Day 113
Imagine my surprise and delight when, last night at just before half past nine, I saw an email come in from my local Conservative MP, Chloe Smith, finally responding to… Continue Reading
Day 112
Nothing really happened yesterday. This is the going round in circles I was talking about the other day. Of course stuff happened; at work, at home, in my head. But… Continue Reading
Day 111
This may seem sad, but it’s my reality. I have really struggled the last two or so months to put my writing ahead of work first thing in the morning,… Continue Reading
Day 110
I’m too tired to write this standing up. I almost got up at 5, then procrastinated and fell asleep again. The bin collection is already doing its rounds down our… Continue Reading
Day 109
Yesterday seemed incomplete somehow. I even started writing a poem about it but it petered out in the sand, and with my attention distracted by a TV programme about home… Continue Reading
Day 108
The garden smells of wild onions. In our ignorance, we thought they were just outsized snowdrops. It wasn’t until I mowed them down after I’d tidied up the construction site… Continue Reading
Day 107
Easter Sunday used to be the day on which I put everything to one side and spent the day painting and listening to classical music. I haven’t done that for… Continue Reading
Day 106
A perfect drying day. It’s warm in the sun, with a slight breeze. But it’s cold here in the study, and part of me (all of me) doesn’t really want… Continue Reading
Day 105
I am listening to my own voice while writing this. My good friend David Mann kindly asked me to do a punk radio show with him, and I’m listening to the… Continue Reading
Day 104
Perhaps I am too orderly even in my writing life. I’m behind again on sticking the blog printouts into my journal, and it hinders me in handwriting ideas into that… Continue Reading