Exciting is at fever pitch in the Robinson household. My publisher, Crooked Cat Books, is branching into non-fiction and my book, Life With Arfur, will be one of the first two published under the True Cats line. The other will be Pensioners in Paradis by Olga Swan. Life With Arfur is expected to appear in paperback and e-book sometime around June.
I signed contracts for the book yesterday afternoon and the formal announcement was made on Facebook later in the evening.
It couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve had the weekend from hell again. My ankle will not settle down, and while we were out trailing round shops buying bits and pieces I’m not sure we needed – since when does a bobbin of black cotton cost £1.20 and does anyone buy bobbins of cotton these days – Joe was left at home and he fell off the settee and injured himself.
It’s not the first time he’s done it and we know what causes it. He sleeps on his back sometimes, and if he’s laid along the seats and then rolls over in the wrong direction, he rolls off and drops to the floor. That’s just what he did on Saturday and it left him pain when it was too late to get him to the vet.
We were going to take him Sunday morning, but he rallied overnight, and after polishing off a full sausage, part of my bacon sandwich, and two small pieces of ginger cake…. Oh, and half a tin of dog food, he was walking fine, so we didn’t bother.
Come Monday morning, he was hobbling again, so we took him to the vet, who gave us the definitive diagnosis. Some bruising to his back, but otherwise okay. Right now he’s kipped out on the settee again. I tell you, this dog is two planks short of a full kennel.
So between my ankle, the dog and a change in the weather that has aggravated the arthritis in both knees and both shoulders, I could have done without the renewal quote for the car insurance landing on the doormat.
It’s a sporty, 1.7 diesel Vauxhall Corsa, which begs the question, why am I being quoted for the Battleship Potemkin? Touch wood, cross fingers, I’ve never claimed on car insurance in forty years. Why, then, do I get stuffed every year? It’s gone up 17.5% this year. How does that sit with inflation figures of less than 2%? The word ‘shafted’ springs to mind, but shopping around, I find it’s still one of the lowest quotes.
By one o’clock this afternoon, I was on a low ebb. My ankle was screaming, my knees were griping, the dog was moaning and I was grumbling, and my temper was simmering on gas mark 7.
The cavalry came over the hill in the shape of Crooked Cat’s email at a quarter to three, offering me a contract for Life With Arfur.
So what’s the book all about?
The title should give you a cue, but I’ll tell you tomorrow.
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