Watch This Space.

We are going to receive an "update" this afternoon from the Chairman. We all know what this usually means, so here's... not really caring actually.

On another (more positive) note, isn't it interesting how the muse strikes? As I drove into work this mornig, I was thinking of how I haven't written anything lately, and that I really should. I plumped for writing a children's story, as I haven't written on before and I think it would be interesting. I started to name the characters, and even came up with a respectable storyline.

But I got stuck with one character, a Dormouse I think he was. I didn't know what to call him at all, and so I chose Timber - I really don't know why, as it bore no relation to his character at all, except that he may have lived in a tree.

By the time I had arrived at work I had completely forgotten the earlier story (nope... still got no idea, it'll never come back now) and instead had a complete synopsis for an entirely different story about an entirely different Timber.

I've written the first little bit which you can read below, and booked Monday off work. I'll write the rest then, and post it in my blog. Apologies as the below is very rough, even by my standards, and it will undoubtedly change by Monday. Enjoy!


TIMBER
BY PETER BANCROFT

It was Sally’s birthday, and her Grandfather had promised to give her something extra special this year. He took her down to the little shed at the bottom of the garden, and lifted her up so that she could sit down on top of an old table, where she could see everything he was doing.

Sally watched as her Grandfather filled a little brown pot up with soil, and held it in front of her. “Make a big hole in here with your thumb,” he told her, and she did. Her Grandfather then took a little acorn out of his pocket and gave it to her. “Now put this in the hole, and push it all the way down.”

Sally took the acorn, and pushed it all the way into the hole. Her Grandfather then filled in the hole with a little more soil, and watered it with a little watering can.

“This is your present, Sally. This little acorn will grow and grow until it’s big and strong like you will be. When it’s big enough, we’ll plant it outside in a special garden for you, where you can always come and see your tree.”

Sally came to visit her grandfather every week, and every week they looked at her little tree. They watched as from the soil slowly came a little green shoot reach upwards, getting ever-so slowly taller and taller.

One day, her Grandfather told her that it was now big enough to plant outside and Sally help to choose a place at the end of the garden where her tree could go. “What do you think now?” asked her Grandfather.

“I think I’ll call him Timber,” said Sally.

Sally’s Grandfather laughed. “Don’t be silly,” he said, “People don’t name trees.”

“Of course they do,” said Sally. “And my one is called Timber.”

“Then Timber he shall be.” Sally’s Grandfather took her inside, and they sat in the kitchen by a little window where they could see Timber wave gently in the breeze, as they ate fruit cake and drank lemonade.