This week is the Eisteddfod and if I ever stop being exhausted I'll write about it. For now, a quick review of last week: I failed at house-sitting on Saturday through Tuesday and potentially neglected the dog because I ended up spending every night at the Fig Tree; Saturday I did the field trip for my architectural salvage article and went to Builth Wells with a guy who is blacklisted from the US cause he was involved in a big counterfeiting ring in Africa about 20 years ago (um...); Sunday I went to a lunch for Sian Phillips and was overdressed, underage and overall embarrassing, though Sian Phillips was lovely and poised and hilarious; Monday I skipped work and wandered around Carmarthen then went to dinner at a pub with my landlords and their future daughter-in-law Beth, during which time I split two bottles of wine with John; Tuesday the magazines were (finally) delivered; Wednesday I discovered it's a good thing I'm not credited on those blurbs because Frances edited them after I wrote them and one is now so full of typos that I refuse to claim it, and I also posted a much prettier version of my Heathrow immigration story on the magazine's Facebook, and my own Facebook, so check that out if you haven't yet; Thursday I went to Aberystwyth and Talybont with Frances to visit Y Lolfa, the publisher that wouldn't hire me, and turns out they're uber-legit; Friday I took the day off; yesterday the 'Steddfod started and will be dominating my life for the next week--we leave before 8am, don't get back til 8pm, and then I pretty much grab some dinner (or ice cream...lately I've been eating Monica's homemade ice cream for dinner...what? it's got egg in it, it's healthy!), wash off the disgusting layer of dust coating me from the filthy Eisteddfod venue, and then go to bed before 10pm.
More about the 'Steddfod later and if I'm in the mood, filling in the gaps of the last week. Four weeks down, two to go!
No comments:
Post a Comment