Have I told you what a fantastic Christmas present I make?
Yes I know I’m useless at blogging but I keep thinking something will happen worthy of reporting. Then I get told it’s all about patience. That’s a word not in my vocabulary. I want pink and silver hair but my hairdresser told me, “You can’t, your grey isn’t light enough yet”. See, I can’t even get old properly. So whilst waiting for the wheels of industry to turn I get up with the Lark and write book three.
I rise bleary eyed, still clothed (what - there’s a whole nation of mothers out there sleeping in their clothes - it’s quicker), push one of the kids off my arm, and stumble downstairs to write in the quiet hush of sunrise. If I’m lucky enough for beloved bill payer to be home and game for a school run, I keep going but with industrial ear phones on. Let me tell you it’s not a pretty sight.
One day my friends…
Incidentally my spell checker just told me blogging should be flogging which feels about right.