Shakespeare and his cheese sandwich

Back from Buxton (5 days ago, actually) with severely depleted finances and worrying family news.

Our friend Chris came over from London returning the pictures he took to try to find a buyer; no interest there apparently. David's idea is to take them to the museum here, as they are both local scenes of a sort. But the museum doesn't buy pictures, or anything at all, it seems.

Photographed David's 2 Staffordshire pot dogs, flower-sellers spill-holder and W Shakespeare with his cheese sandwich (actually a book he's leaning on). Dogs are badly cracked and WS is crazed, so we won't make our fortunes that way! But we now have something to show the auctioneers.

David rang his doctor to see if his x-rays had come. The doctor rang back to say there was no record of his having had an x-ray, despite the fact that we'd gone to the Bristol General with a pink form, and the deed had been done. Dr Burlington will now administer a bollocking to the BGH. We will wait patiently. No pun intended.

I rang the bank and saved the bacon, for a while.

While we were out shopping in the cool of the evening, Dr Burlington rang to ask David to make an appointment to discuss his x-rays. So the bollocking worked.

"What of the writing?" I hear you cry. Mmm.