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Dog Eat Dog - 6,000 words

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

18:15 GMT, Sunday 20th September 2009.  Sitting at the oak refectory table. It's been blue sky and bright golden autumn sunlight all day, now fading to a pale baby blue, the sun dropping behind the dense tangle of the ancient forest surrounding the back of the house.  

It's been a good day: thankfully with only a minor hangover following the 4A.M. finish to Pete's 50th birthday party next door.

I've just finished chapter 2 and dropped in the first of the blog-entries that will appear throughout the book.

I'm going to be making the first few chapters available as I finish them; grab the latest sneak preview here:

Sneak Preview Chapter's 1 and 2 from Dog Eat Dog

It's been a strange day, emotions all over the place.  I've been feeling uneasy.  A slight case of unneccessary paranoia perhaps?  I posted a comment on somebody's profile a couple days ago and discovered it had been deleted: so now I'm wondering if my sense-of-humour has caused offence or been miscontrued. Certainly a worry I can do without right now.

At the party last night, one of mum's friends, a woman who's known her since being a teenager, collapsed on me and began sobbing, overwhelmed by the whole situation.  It seems everyone's who met my mum has been touched in some way.  A random stranger at the party told me he'd met my mum and would never forget her.  She is an amazing woman, that's for certain.

I've not actually seen her today.  My sister's been up into her room, helping out with the nurses who came this morning; but I figure I'll see her a little later, if she's strong enough to come downstairs.

Right, I'm going to post this, pull on my battered hiking boots and black waxed jacket and go walk 4 miles with Hollywood Undead on my headphons.

Djr