The post Christmas sales

Having spent a strange Christmas with my cousin Eleanor I've been grateful for some time off to relax in my new flat. This afternoon, prior to the rain starting I walked into town to go sales shopping, despite it still being the school holidays. There have been two recent murders in this area, it's worrying and I've no doubt it will have an effect on rental/sales figures, however there's nothing I can do and renting elsewhere will be too much of strain on my humble EO salary.

Town was gaudy - groups of shrieking teenagers thronged the pedestrianised street and the motley collection of stalls and rides made it even worse. I was perplexed by the arrival of the 'Roast Hut' - a pink shed containing a rotissery and a sweaty man selling huge baps full of steaming meat. I managed to pick up my items from Boots - make up if you please - I've decided that 2012 is the time I'm going to meet Mr Right.

What a to-do!

Well, my name's Margaret and I haven't written for ages for a myriad of reasons - the most important being that until recently I've been living with various friends prior to finding myself a new flat to rent. Roger Reynolds aka Maurice Dumbarton has done a bunk with the money and stock of his former shop and leaves a number of people hugely out of pocket. Although he was strange I still miss that man - his sense of humour combined with a lovely head of hair still make me smile.

Onwards an upwards I suppose. My new 'pad' is located above a cafe and I'm still finding my feet. I suppose the industrial smell of gravy annoys me at times and the huge vat of custard which simmers away all day makes me heave but otherwise it's nice to find a cosy home. I am spending Christmas at Eleanor's house, it should prove exciting.