Miss Daisy's Diaries

Miss Daisy's Diaries
Go to my Website

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Well, would you believe it?

I mean...  Well, what cheek....  Not content with collecting my diaries together to turn in to a book, now Her Ladyship has plonked a website into the ether in the hope that someone will go to Amazon and download the kindle version of my book.  "It's only ninety nine pence Old Girl" she said.  Ninety nine pence?  Good grief is that all that the diaries of a 77 year old child of the Austin Motor Company is worth?

"Still have to find a publisher for the printed book version Old Girl.  That will sell for more.  Well I hope it will sell for more.  Let's concentrate on finding you e readers for now.  Who knows, you might end up being famous.  There again..."  Cheeky cow, who does she think she is?

I have lived with this woman for 7 years now and I had planned to enjoy my Autumn years quietly.  I wanted to write my memoirs.  I wanted to write about 'Oh David' and 'Don't worry Beatrice', the nice couple from Oxford who took delivery of me in March 1934.  But no... I had barely dribbled oil on to the floor of Her Ladyship's garage when she announced that we were to drive round the World! I ask you, the world?  This woman and me go round the world? Good heaven's she's completely mad.  Well, so far, so good and if I have any say in the matter we'll stay firmly glued to Pembrokeshire.

"Plug your book and Website Old Girl" she said.  "It's the only way that I can afford your engine rebuild."  Well to be honest I do need that done.  Cars that follow me do tend to keep their distance.  Apparently I 'make smoke' like a second world war destroyer.  So if you are interested to read any more, why not go to my website at www.missdaisydiaries.co.uk and find out more.

I have to say that Her ladyship completely messed up creating my facebook page and it's crashed now, so she is going to have to wait while they delete the site and she starts all over again.  But it seems that I am at Twitter.  That is @missdaisydiary.  You know who looks after that and I dread to think what she says about me.

Now perhaps I can be left in peace to get on with my memoirs.