Well, I did go and re-read "Jennie" the other evening. I hadn't read it since I was a kid; for years I had a mad idea that a book that made me cry was sentimental and therefore "bad". (Which led to such odd pursuits as reading L. M. Montgomery's "Emily" books furtively in the library, rather than actually taking them home, and sniffling behind the stacks!) Having copped on to myself a bit since then, I now happily read books that make me cry - and it's just as well I copped on, since I cry relatively easily over books and films. Anyway, "Jennie" had the old effect on me, and I bawled my eyes out at the end of the book. I would study how Paul Gallico achieved this, but it's rather hard to study objectively something that you're weeping all over! I think a lot of it has to do with how he's built up the relationship betwenn Jennie and Peter - he does a wonderful job of showing how their friendship grows and deepens. And then some of it is the heroism that both characters show leading up to and during the show-down with Dempsey, and then - well, I don't want to spoil the book for anyone who hasn't read it. But what happens next is devastating. If you haven't read the book, go read it.

It's been a quiet weekend. Patrick is still at the Heartlands - won't be back till Wednesday - and due to my work's annoying pay schedule (we get paid on the first working day of the month), I'm broke until tomorrow. I hate it when the Bank Holiday falls such that we don't get paid until after it!

And to add to the general depressed tone, I got a rejection from Imaginings on Friday. Gah! Ah well, these things happen. I'll add it to the collection and send "Choosing Destiny" to Dreams of Decadence tomorrow.

Anyway, getting back to more mundane and soothing things...

On Saturday I came over all domestic - okay, I just couldn't stand the sight of the sitting room any longer! - and cleaned. The sitting room, except for the bits of computer piled near the TV, is civilised once more. And I did the downstairs bathroom too. I meant to do the upstairs bathroom and the floors as well, but somehow never quite got round to it. Maybe I can persuade Patrick to do them when he comes back.

While I was cleaning, Patrick's mother came over to do some gardening. Neither Patrick nor myself is much into gardening - in fact, when it comes to house plants at any rate, I have black fingers; every potted plant I've ever had has died, even the things that are supposed to be impossible to kill, like cacti and geraniums. So it's a blessing that Maire does like gardening, and has only a small garden of her own. Given our druthers, of course, Patrick and I would not have bought a house with a large garden. Unfortunately, this was the only house we could find that (a) we could afford and (b) was big enough for our needs. It just so happened that it was built in the early 70s, when building land in Dublin was not at the premium it is now, and so has a large-ish back garden. So Maire comes round and does things to it for us.

She's done a great job this weekend - she had to borrow her sister's Strimmer to hack the lawn down to size (we never get round to mowing it, and it was knee-high!), before taking the mower to it. And she's weeded, and planted a bunch of stuff. And most pleasingly, the rose-bush I bought in the supermarket a while back, which was hardly more than a bunch of twigs, is growing well, and now has lots of leaves and looks as if it intends to live! So that's encouraging. And all the rain we've had of late has obviously agreed with the herb garden, which is burgeoning in all directions, and shows signs of becoming a jungle if not checked. Maire says she can get us a bay tree for it if we like.

Did a bit of grocery shopping on Saturday too; went to Aldi which I don't often do because it doesn't (unlike the shopping centre up the road) have a home delivery service, and I don't have a car. But I was only getting a few things, and Aldi is very cheap. And I discovered that it sells tinned ravioli, something I haven't been able to find anywhere else. I used to love tinned ravioli as a child. So I bought some for old times' sake, and it's still nice.

Yesterday was, as usual, occupied by training. I got more exercise in an hour than I normally have in several days! Moxie had us doing proper warm-up stretches and running round the lawn and goodness knows what-all - my arms are aching this evening. We had a really good session - for about an hour. Then we suddenly realised what a mess we were making of the lawn; it had rained the previous night, and our activities had left it looking like a football pitch after a particularly wet match! So we decided we'd better stop, before the park-keepers gave out to us. They don't like us anyway. Though in fact, none of them came near us for once. We did some in-character stuff, sat around chatting, and did a bit of training on the paths. Though that last wasn't ideal; gravel paths are less fun to fall on than grass, so we had to be a bit more careful. Plus, other people wanted to walk along the paths, so we had to keep out of their way too. It was something of a relief to me when we finally packed up around 5 and went off to get food, and then some pints.

And today has been a puttering sort of a day. Puttered up to the supermarket to get something for breakfast. Had breakfast. Puttered about with the laundry. Spent most of the day between the computer and my books. Read all the stories on the Ideomancer Unbound shortlist and sent my comments to Mikal, read my e-mail, caught up on my friends' blogs. Played a lot of Spider Solitaire - about the only thing I like on this computer; it's bloody addictive!

I've been feeling vaguely restless and write-ish, but I can't decide what I want to write. The stupid angel story is stalled, and it's still annoying me too much to go back to it. The not-angel story doesn't appeal at the moment, and the library story needs re-plotting, I suspect. Which leaves me with the one that's poking at me anyway. But I don't know the entire plot yet. I know Alice's boyfriend beats her up, and I know she lets him because she thinks she needs it in order to access her supernatural abilities. I know she goes to Baz's tattoo studio and gets a tattoo which acts as a protective talisman and prevents the boyfriend from beating her up (which annoys her no end). And I know that at some point she will board Charon's ferry. But I don't know what her supernatural abilities are, and I don't know why she's going to get on Charon's ferry, and I don't know what happens after that. Maybe I should just start writing and see, but I generally do better when I know (or think I know!) where a story is going. Maybe I should take Alice, and/or Baz, and/or Baz's kitten (which comes into it somewhere) to the Serendip. And I'm not at all sure that the Sisters aren't going to come into it somewhere, too. Which is going to make this a rather crowded story! Ack.

I think I'll just go back to re-reading Chalet School stories. Comfort reading. Heh.