Nothing boring about my life. Every morning Mr Fitzpatrick asks me what my day holds and I reply, 'Oh, the usual', but truth be told there is no 'usual'. Take yesterday. I'd been hoping to put the finishing touches to the pantomime script I'm writing. We're doing Mother Goose. In Venice. It was entirely my idea. Further evidence, should evidence be required, that I'm not in full possession of my sanity.
But anyway, I was a bit worried about the actor I'd cast as the Goose. It's going to be hell inside that costume, even in January. Still, I didn't want her to feel rejected. I thought I'd write in another character, to give her something to do, and cast someone more resilient to put on those big fluffy wings. Then I thought I'd better call her up and tell her my plan. I didn't want her practicing her goose-waddle when it would no longer be required.
She wasn't home. Her husband said, 'Actually, she never wanted to be the Goose. Actually, she'd rather paint scenery or make tea.'
Hellfire and damnation. Doesn't anyone think to mention these things to the Casting Director?

But later in the day, a pantomime moment of sheer heaven. I shopped on-line for an affordable decoy goose call. For any readers not in the know... they're used by goose-hunters. You can get different kinds, depending on which type of goose you're after, and some of them come with an instruction CD. Before I knew it I had ventured deep into the world of men who wear camouflage. I was so mesmerised by the idea of people discussing the merits of rival goose calls, I even read the testimonials. I 'd specially like to share with you the one from from a guy who wrote, and I quote, 'I found my continuous practice while in the truck paid off. The Canadas decoyed very well.'

It's a great big wonderful world, folks.
Oh. I bought the Extra Loud Speckle Belly, in case you're wondering.