Just over four weeks to the show. Yikes!

I took a quick trawl round B&Q looking for odd bits and pieces of raw materials, and as usual came away empty handed but with a full head.

I have a theory that dogs have a secret tennis ball exchange system, because more than once - frequently, in fact - I have returned from the beach with a different ball to the one I went out with. There is nothing obvious about the switch, either, and there is never another dog in sight: sleight of chops, I'd say.

I got a fat cheque in the post today. Woohoo. Actually, it's more plump than fat, but handy all the same. So it's still worthy of a woohoo.

Back to arty stuff, and research (by which I mean googling and telephoning in this case) for material for a piece of work seems to be telling me that either I may have to go to Wales to collect a single sheet, or take delivery of an entire pallet load. This particular idea may have to go onto the back burner for the time being.

Hands up if you have a brilliant idea at three in the morning, but when you  look at it again in the cold light of day you realise it is just doodoo.

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