Otters and dog coats

It seems we have otters in the Tyne at Ovingham. When I first heard the news that they'd been sighted, I was pleased. Now I'm not so sure. The reason? The creatures fish for food and seem to be so successful at it that they catch more than they need, bite the head off and leave the rest to moulder on the river bank. Then, some innocent dog-walker comes along and wonders why his dog suddenly takes off and then pounces on something in the grass.
You've guessed it - they've discovered the possibly days old discarded fish and they're eating it. Sometimes, like today, all that was left was the bony skeleton and a few scraps of skin. If you don't get there in time, then down it goes and the dog's breath also stinks for the next few days. There must be health risks to these disgusting habits, so I always try and get Tim to leave it. He isn't keen to do that. Talking to other dog owners, some say their dogs roll in the remains and then have to be bathed when they get home. I'm beginning to wish the otters had selected some other part of the Tyne to make their home.

We had our first frost yesterday, and the temperature dropped to 2 degrees C, -1 overnight, so Santa brought Tim's coat just in time. His fur coat is very fine and  not thick, and he trots out quite happily in his smart maroon coat. We passed a couple of Mamelukes which reared up trying to get at him (they were on the lead, fortunately) and in doing so displayed all that lovely thick fur all over their bellies as well as their backs. Tim's tum is hairless, so no doubt he felt the cold. It is maybe a tad big for him, but he'll chunk out more, and then it will be just right. It's his first birthday on 30th, so we'll have to see what we'll be doing to celebrate!

Meanwhile we shiver in wind and rain, both ferocious, but the temperature has gone up to 6 or 7. Pity. It was fun watching Tim skating on the iced-up puddles.

Summer returns

Second complete edit finished last night. Phew!

123,524 words. Definitely historical mainstream,

and multiple viewpoints.

On the whole, I'm pleased with it, although I know I can make it better yet. I'm impatient -

I want to start sending it around to see if anyone will take it, so I'll need some control in the next few days. My plan is to work hard on the first three chapters and then send out, because I'm sure I can have a third edit complete before any replies will appear.

I have a suspicion my biggest weakness is the synopsis. I don't like doing them, and I don't think I do them well. Homework time is called for!

Summer is back again. The picture of the Old Vicarage at Ovingham, just across the river, was taken in the last "summer" we had a couple of weeks ago. Since them we've had the central heating on and brought out the big duvet again. As of yesterday, it's all change once more. 21 degrees and 22 forecast for tomorrow. A trip to the gym, or a bike ride in the sunshine? Difficult to decide which form my exercise should take today, but afterwards, whichever I choose, I'll be sitting down to watch the Roland Garros tennis, men's semis, on the red button!

The River Tyne and Ovingham Bridge

The Tyne is running where it ought not to be today - snow and rain off the hills. It is certainly putting strain on our 125 year-old single-track Victorian bridge! We were walking today, but when I drive across and the river is like this, I always send up a little prayer - I'm not sure to where, exactly - that the supporting struts won't choose to give way just as I drive over.

Dh always says the Victorians over-engineered everything because they didn't know the strength of the materials they were using. Thank goodness, I say. We saw a truck get jammed between the stone parapets one day - it had to wriggle off and reverse back up the approach road. Perhaps he didn't know his vehicle was more than 6 foot 6 inches wide! Ha!

Today there is a pedestrian walkway right beside the old bridge with the stone parapets that still bear the marks where the lanterns used to be at either end. There's a 10 mph speed limit and a 3 ton weight limit on it, yet people of all ages drive over at amazingly high speeds. When the level crossing gates go down to let a train roar through at the Prudhoe end, then the stream of cars backs up onto the bridge. If I have to sit there above the middle of the river, unable to move, I'm calculating the weight of metal and rubber parked on the bridge and sending up another of those little prayers.

However, life goes on. I am sad to report that the latest agent said no, but she only took 4 days to get back to me and it was an e-mail submission, which isn't such hard work as a paper submission.

The latest work is going well - 3,000 words yesterday in a marathon sprint and all because I'd taken my notebook on holiday with me - as well as my new Sony e-reader - and worked out what I wanted to happen in Chapter 17 while I was on the plane en route to Geneva. Preparation pays off! Perhaps I'll do it again.