Selling your soul.

When I started this blog back in October I didn’t have a clue how to go about it. 

Our lecturer told us to get on with it, so I solved the problem by finding a friend who could. He set it all up, I thought of the name, I write the stuff (which my husband checks for spelling/ grammar/possible libel actions) that he showed me how to put on and that’s about it really. Things come into my head in the early hours of the morning and I just write them up hoping that someone, somewhere, might get a bit of enjoyment out of it.

Now I go into something called Overview which shows I have 637 page views to date. Now that could be lies, damned lies, or dodgy statistics as far as I’m concerned and I certainly don’t click on links I don’t know in case they’re unexploded bombs. Grandpa used to say, ‘Neither a sucker nor a sapper be’. 

I’m currently getting messages about how to earn money by attaching adverts to my blog. I discussed this with my lecturer and we are of the same opinion, i.e. adverts would detract from and diminish the message, if there is one, in the writing.

 So thank you for your valuable marketing advice Dr Faustus but I think I’ll pass on it and no, there’s no need to call us...we’ll call you.

Now, having got that off my chest I think I’ll go for a walk. Looks sunny outside but it might be a bit boggy underfoot so I’ll just get out my Hunter wellington boots, pinch my husband’s Barbour,’cos it makes me look slimmer, pass my Fiat Punto and his Audi on my way out, pack a Mars bar in case I get peckish and a bottle of Evian water in case I get thirsty, and off I go.

Coming back we have a lovely Waitrose ready meal, (I have, yet again, failed to cook anything all day) accompanied by a nice bottle of red from Berry Bros and Rudd. We watch the ITN news at ten, or, if we’ve missed that, then the news on Sky, and may have a mug of Cadbury’s hot chocolate made with Tesco’s organic semi-skinned milk. God, isn’t life exciting!  I hunt for my Givenchy glasses and take the Sunday Times Review upstairs as I haven’t got round to finishing it yet. 

Holding my Wisdom toothbrush in a hand that is as smooth as my face( I don’t do dishes) I clean my teeth with Colgate toothpaste and go to bed with that ring of confidence which comes from a clear conscience. As my head hits the Dunlopillow the aforesaid ring hovers in a golden halo above me as I smugly contemplate my soul, whiter than Persil white, indeed as blameless and pure as the driven snow.

Goodnight.