Time

Goodness, I underestimated just how challenging it would be finding the time to sit down each day and write one hundred words. Themes and thoughts of what I want to write about swirl around my head but capturing them on paper – or in this case on PC – is proving to be more difficult than I thought. I seem to have a million things to do during the day – not least of all caring for a six week old baby. But stress myself I shan’t. I’ll write whenever I can and be grateful to have found the time to do so.

(100 Words)

Feathered Friends

The Peacock

He struts full of pride
His glory fanned out behind him
The envy of all


Good Morning

I startle awake
As the rooster lets it rip
Natures alarm clock

Beware the poop!

I looked up to see
The pretty bird up the tree
And got an eyeful

Routine

I am a person of routine. I always have been. I love the feeling I get of knowing that I have my day all mapped out from the moment I wake up in the morning. I take strange comfort in knowing what I expect to be doing at any given time during the day. Some may say living this way is boring – too ‘within the box’ – I say with two children under five it’s the perfect way to live. While others about me crumble due to their lack of routine, I rise above the chaos thanks to my unfailing routine.

(100 Words)

Slippery

He looks like a slippery character I thought as I watched him saunter up to my front door and ring the bell. He had sales person written all over him.

I was right.

Yes? I barked as I stuck my head out of the window in response to his ring. I gave him the once over as I waited for him to begin his spiel taking in his dark suit, his too dazzling smile, his slight swagger

I see your guttering is looking like it needs to be replaced, he began, is it something you would want doing? We will be in the area next week and we could do yours while we are here. Your name and telephone number? All this was said in one breath while he whipped out a notepad from the top pocket of his coat.

Cheeky blighter, I fumed inwardly, did he really think I was going to fall for that line?

Not interested, I said sharply and drew my head in shutting the window firmly.

Unfortunately my neighbour fell for it and had his guttering changed the following week – for a £800 fee of course. Two days later, the guttering was leaking (he complained to my husband) as the two work men who had been sent out to do the job had botched it. Our neighbour had been unable to reach the slippery salesperson despite his numerous attempts to do so, surprise surprise. Plus he couldn’t claim on his insurance because the company that the salesperson represented was not registered!!

So the poor man had to call in another company to fix it. They had to rip it all off and replace it with their own guttering – for an eye watering £1,800!! So in all, our neighbour was out of pocket by £2,600 all because of a slippery salesperson.

Unapproachable

Yesterday my husband told me that a 60ish year old woman had chatted him up. I was thoroughly amused. Then I commented that no one ever chats me up – at least not in seven years. ‘That’s because you’re not approachable’ was the reply. Although I am a little peeved at being told this, I have to concede that he’s probably right. I don’t set out to be unapproachable but I come across that way. People only stop me in the street to ask for directions but never to offer a flirtatious invitation to have a coffee in the next Starbucks.

(100 Words)