I do not know if I want to spend my life doing shows, but I do know I would quite happily walk around with a big pie I had baked myself advertising a show of mine. Actually I would happily just walk around with the pie, pretending I was doing a show.

Frustrations piled up Friday, including another exhausting time with the strimmer, a nightmare with the inkjet, non-payment of of Income Support and Bradford Council telling me I was not getting Council Tax Benefit (they spent my money of a glossy leafleted campaign to get people who are intitled but not claiming to claim, then make it almost impossible to claim what should be an automatic entitlement when in receipt if Income Support). On the other had I finally got a cheque for my £80 from the Walburgas show at Bradford Playhouse, but only after threatening the administrators with a complaint to their registering authority.

On the other hand I have made a new tray to carry the big pie on, out of a woven tray that cost £2 from a charity shop and spare carrying straps from holdalls and laptop cases. It is a tenth of the weight of the old one (mad out of mdf and toweling dressing gown cord), looks far better, and works brilliantly well.

I bought a black inkjet refill kit on Friday for £7, but it did not work. The cartridge is obviously too old and no knacked. I spent many hours trying to print tickets, posters and flyers to take to Skipton. I managed to do some, but of poor quality.

I got a rail return to Keighley and Roger drove us to Skipton and parked up at the Cross Keys. They have sold no tickets and had no interest, but that does not surprise me, and I am not panicking (which does surprise me). I only need two groups of more than four and the room will look and sound full, and while I sold no tickets today I had an immense amount of interest.

As I wrote when I went out with the last pie, it is brilliant way of making instant judgments and attracting questions. Miserable, angry people seem to be made more angry by seeing a foot wide pie; stupid people will grin gormlessly, not say anything and retreat when I talk. It is also not something that works in very crowded places, like Skipton market.

On the other hand sitting outside the Narrowboat, with the sun catching the pie and us drinking beer while a steady but not overwhelming stream of people passed was wonderful, as people could stop if they wanted to talk, or be out of range in a few steps.

The best part was that we were sat next to a happy group of young people, who seemed to be on a narrowboat works outing. The nicest were Ceri and and her fine, red headed friend.

Stop at Roger’s on the way back, where the pie broke whilst showing it off. I had already said that I doubted it would last a second trip, and so it proved. It was far too thin, but it tasted nice as a result. 6 year old Amber enjoyed it, though see could not eat all the letters of her name (though there is no m in http://www.bradwan.co.uk).

Today I am catching up. It was relaxed until I found one of the dirty gets just to the front (ie behind and to the side of my back-to-back) pissing in our alley! I also finally lost my temper with trying to run a shdow of my original blog on myspace. I now have a blog on wordpress. I have no idea what it is like, but it was rated well on a couple of sites about blogs.