Yes, I know you want to know that the rubbish collection was concluded uneventfully. Yet another (expensive) yellow plastic bag consigned to the rubbish truck.
Firstly, good news Friday. I check every day to see if “The Secret Keeper” has been accepted into the Premiere Catalogue at Smashwords. You have to apply and they make a decision based on the quality of the work and it being correctly formatted. If you make it, the book is listed with all the major ebook retailers, including Apple and Sony and it is ****** difficult to get listed there by yourself. Opens up itunes. And today it said “approved.” Lovely word. A word that makes me veeeeeeeeeery happy. So seven long years of work will be seen/read by more people. And I’ll be a (very) few $ richer.
Now, yesterday we went to visit my brother’s racing stable. He has given a 10% share in a new horse to my Mum and her identical twin sister, Laura. And the horse has been called Double Trouble, because they are. Honestly. The two 88 year olds together is funnier than a stand up act. So we saw the sweet little horse and it looked like every other sweet little bay racehorse in the stable. And there are many…but then we were introduced to Zanacotti. And I fell in love. This horse is over 17 hands. He is HUGE. And chestnut with a white blaze and so powerful and doesn’t he know it! So I ask, why does he have a name that sounds like an Italian custard dessert?? Why isn’t he called Everest or something equally big? (no, Mum, Titanic is not a good idea) Anyway he and I had lots of chats before he got loaded onto the truck to go and work the hill at Lanherne. He has a trial next Tuesday and if he goes well he will start racing. I shall keep you posted on the progress of Zanacotti/Everest. I predict the Melbourne Cup at the very least.
All Black team for the French game on Saturday was released yesterday, Israel Dagg at fullback is a good move, agree with the wingers Jane and Kahui and Weepu at half back. And dashing Dan is back and so is the hugely impressive Ritchie McCaw (or as the farming community call him Ritchie McCow)…that reminds me, after Paul the octopus at the soccer world cup, there has been a rash of ‘prediction animals’. For the RWC we have a prediction chicken. Although picking Tony Woodcock to score the first try was a bit bizarre. And somewhere in the Waikato there is a calf who chooses the winner of the game based on which rubber teat it drinks out of, and it is called, of course, Ritchie McCow. Probably picks as accurately as anyone else. Amazing the number of people who now say that they really did pick Ireland to beat the Aussies. Yeah right. I am confident we will beat the French and get stronger as the ‘business end’ (so what’s the beginning, the ‘holiday end’?) of the tournament arrives. Will we play South Africa or Australia in the semis (they play each other because of the Ireland result), who knows, personally I think SA will go through and it will be a dour, close game and we will triumph. And the final? A European team. No sweat…and I’m not even a chicken and no one pays me to pick.
Speaking of sweat, I see Zara Phillips is here, earlier than was expected. Came out to check on hubby no doubt and to keep him out of nightclubs and stray boobs. It might be a bit of a tense reunion, but I don’t think it’s a deal breaker. I suspect she is alot angrier at him being caught on CCTV and the story making the papers than she is about what he is alleged to have done. They are, understandably, pathalogically allergic to the paps and those kinds of headlines will not endear him to his new inlaws. I can imagine Prince Phillip’s reaction.