I was hoping to upload a blog post in February... as my mum would say, the way to hell is paved with good intentions... It may be that I'm trotting happily along that particular yellow brick road (as if indeed I believe in the concept of hell, which I don't - though the jury's out on the yellow brick road...)
or maybe I'm allowed to be more forgiving of my 'non-achieving'; think of it instead as travelling towards a completed first novel draft - this time last year I had about 3,000 words, & now I have over 31,000. Another 9,000 and I'm around half-way...
It's tortuously slow - but the tortoise still beat the hare....
My solitary life does have distinct disadvantages. You miss decent conversation, for a start... but I've been blessed with several house guests recently, and last weekend I was a houseguest myself, for my friend Fiona's 60th birthday bash. She filled the Granary at Fordingbridge with friends and family (link to check it out: http://www.newforestcottages.com/granary_barn.htm - a real home-from-home for me, being a giant version of where I'm living). Four Pisceans celebrated birthdays over the course of a fantasic weekend... an abundance of excellent food, fine wine...
and wonderful conversation.
Now, work calls - invoices to prepare for services, MOT repairs, oil changes...
A very different world to my (temporary) weekend one!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Thursday, February 05, 2009
belated catch up on the christmas break
Byron’s lines ‘All who joy would win/must share it, -/Happiness was born a Twin’ express a motivation as good as any for seeking the company of others, from soulmates to passing souls.
After a dark, depressed December, my break at the cusp of the year restored my resilience in spades. (At least until after the first few days back at work!)
from my journal 23rd December 2008:
I’m on the road, and a grin spreads. The day is dull, a dull December day, threatening drizzle most of the way up the M6 (which doesn’t actually kick in until the Lakes – and even then only very half-heartedly).
I feel free. Free and definitely up to this journey. In spite of a month of no exercise or fresh air, no resources for self-care – and ever diminishing spirits. I feared getting ill after my last day at work - schoolteacher syndrome - but I’m OK.
OK, and enjoying the drive. Four to five hours is manageable - just.
The day before Christmas Eve, and I’m heading via Cumbria to my metaphorical ‘home’, my birthplace, yet again. Drawing close to Keswick, The Beautiful South sing Rotterdam on Radio 2, and I agree with Aled - it doesn’t get much better than this.
Half an hour on, I catch sight of the red sun sliding through cloud towards the Solway Firth. Just when you think it won’t get better than this… It does.
The day before Christmas Eve, and I’m heading via Cumbria to my metaphorical ‘home’, my birthplace, yet again. Drawing close to Keswick, The Beautiful South sing Rotterdam on Radio 2, and I agree with Aled - it doesn’t get much better than this.
Half an hour on, I catch sight of the red sun sliding through cloud towards the Solway Firth. Just when you think it won’t get better than this… It does.
Christmas Day. Mum and I drove to North Berwick to walk along the bay. Once the link of love and blood is made, it can never be fully broken.
29th December, Sheena & I went up Harlaw.
These pictures remind me of what a spectacular place the Pentlands can be....
I didn't fully appreciate the wondrous scenery when I lived there!
3rd January 2009, I had my annual New Year coast pilgrimage – a meander along the Solway Firth, snapping happily at a sunwashed Criffel (above) – & I just missed a perfect photo of the flock’s mirror image in the sea… (below)
Lots of playing with arty beach photos... but I'll limit to these!
This trip home, I meet another two people who have just been diagnosed hep C positive. And only one cleared of those I'd already met. Our numbers grow… and grow, unfortunately.
I came across Raymond Carver’s lines from ‘What the Doctor Said’, where the doctor asks ‘are you a religious man...’ delighting in natural joys and wisdom. Like Carver, I’m not quite living that – yet. But I, too, intend to start today.
5th January 2009, my return to the world of work, & I have a prang in the car. I drive 500 plus miles – and crash within walking distance of my work. At least nobody bled!
December Days...
Seeds in the sun (the same day as the ice sculptures in the puddles) & the Malverns in the mist...
Just wanted to get the pix up... more to follow.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
October slides past in sunshine
I missed a blog post in September... Looking back over previous posts, those with pix always look more interesting, so I've included some on this - however out of date they are, having been taken on our annual camping trip.
We had three sunny days - mostly, it was dull (as the pic of Corfe shows) or raining.
We did have some lovely days - just not enough for me to feel that sense of wellbeing I've come to expect at the end of a camping trip!
I didn't take any photos on the Coleridge trek at the start of September - the weather was changeable then, too (although it did stay largely dry for walking), but the physical challenge meant my concentration was focussed on getting through it... I (re)discovered that training in one activity is non-transferable... running is no preparation for trekking over rough terrain for miles!
Lucy came up for the weekend, and we ran together. I was thrilled to find out that if I slow my pace right down, I can easily run much longer... So I'm back to running, 3 or 4 times a week if I can.
We had three sunny days - mostly, it was dull (as the pic of Corfe shows) or raining.
We did have some lovely days - just not enough for me to feel that sense of wellbeing I've come to expect at the end of a camping trip!I didn't take any photos on the Coleridge trek at the start of September - the weather was changeable then, too (although it did stay largely dry for walking), but the physical challenge meant my concentration was focussed on getting through it... I (re)discovered that training in one activity is non-transferable... running is no preparation for trekking over rough terrain for miles!
Lucy came up for the weekend, and we ran together. I was thrilled to find out that if I slow my pace right down, I can easily run much longer... So I'm back to running, 3 or 4 times a week if I can.
October is always a significant month for me.
21 years ago this month, I was the startled and dazed mother of a newborn... I remember that October as crisp and cold, but sunny - much like that we're having (so far) this year. My 21 year old son is due to be a father in March... So, in the month I gave birth, I discover I will be a grandma.
The novel is now 17000 words in... only another 52 weekends of a similar output to complete a first draft...
My blogging may be minimal these days, but maybe it has to be to allow that novel narrative to progress...
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
emulating literary heros
I write in various notebooks right now, each with different functions - makes me think of Lessing’s The Golden Notebook…
No blog entry at all last month - I spiralled towards midsummer and beyond with no time for personal access on the internet… Looking at my scanty (or non-existent) blogging, I think what do I do with my life ? (apart from work horrendously long hours…).
Then I check back through my diary, and the mystery is solved. The current incarnation of my novel is now over 10,000, that takes time (one three hour session produced only 600 words, but it‘s not always as tortuous as that - especially as Mike managed to convert my floppy disc files so I could open them on the laptop; and I now also have print versions to work with!).
I may be writing less poetry these days - my choices for my slot in Rosie Finnegan’s Soap Box Poets (part of Frome Festival) were mostly from old material - but the connection is still there. The soapbox event was great fun to take part in as well as a fine addition to the literary programme - Crysse‘s blog covered the festival comprehensively weeks ago, so I won‘t attempt a paltry contribution here so long after the event. Suffice to say, I’ll be watching the festival space, to see what the committee come up with next…
Live n’ lippy had an outing at Bath Poetry Café in the Mission Theatre on 20th July - with, I might add, new material (in spite of saying I haven't written much new...) The evening’s line-up offered great diversity from poets on the MA in Creative Writing at Bath Spa and further afield; a pleasure and a privilege to be part of it - plus the feedback was our most encouraging yet.
I’ve had two weekend visitors since the last post - and thoroughly enjoyed both events. Such a delight to enjoy hours of companionship with dearly loved friends. I’ve also gone to stay with friends - so much social activity a reminder of the dearth of social contact outside work I have here (unless I ’import’ them for the weekend!) Its rarity makes it so much more precious. The Race for Life in Cumbria was an amazing event to be part of - over 5,000 women apparently took part. Not something I’d dream of doing on my own, so rather special to take part with Karen and Denise. I didn’t run the whole 5k, but I tried to persuade the others that we should aim for it next year… Incentive for me to try to keep the training going, as I know it really helps me stay healthy in my crazy work lifestyle…
Though if you check out this fantastic panorama, it's hardly hardship to pound around these fields...
Crysse kindly forwarded these jpegs taken on her visit; a decadent supper on Friday night at the Oak was followed by walking the crinkles from our psyches in the Malverns on Saturday, sustained by Long Hop ale and excellent fish and chips afterwards…
The pic taken in the woods on the Malverns seems to characterize my life situation at the moment somehow.
The Coleridge walk is now all booked up for September, but in the meantime, I’m off camping for our annual pilgrimage to Durdledoor - let’s hope the rain showers are less torrential than of late - a bit of Saturday's clemency will do just fine…
No blog entry at all last month - I spiralled towards midsummer and beyond with no time for personal access on the internet… Looking at my scanty (or non-existent) blogging, I think what do I do with my life ? (apart from work horrendously long hours…).
Then I check back through my diary, and the mystery is solved. The current incarnation of my novel is now over 10,000, that takes time (one three hour session produced only 600 words, but it‘s not always as tortuous as that - especially as Mike managed to convert my floppy disc files so I could open them on the laptop; and I now also have print versions to work with!).
I may be writing less poetry these days - my choices for my slot in Rosie Finnegan’s Soap Box Poets (part of Frome Festival) were mostly from old material - but the connection is still there. The soapbox event was great fun to take part in as well as a fine addition to the literary programme - Crysse‘s blog covered the festival comprehensively weeks ago, so I won‘t attempt a paltry contribution here so long after the event. Suffice to say, I’ll be watching the festival space, to see what the committee come up with next…
Live n’ lippy had an outing at Bath Poetry Café in the Mission Theatre on 20th July - with, I might add, new material (in spite of saying I haven't written much new...) The evening’s line-up offered great diversity from poets on the MA in Creative Writing at Bath Spa and further afield; a pleasure and a privilege to be part of it - plus the feedback was our most encouraging yet.
I’ve had two weekend visitors since the last post - and thoroughly enjoyed both events. Such a delight to enjoy hours of companionship with dearly loved friends. I’ve also gone to stay with friends - so much social activity a reminder of the dearth of social contact outside work I have here (unless I ’import’ them for the weekend!) Its rarity makes it so much more precious. The Race for Life in Cumbria was an amazing event to be part of - over 5,000 women apparently took part. Not something I’d dream of doing on my own, so rather special to take part with Karen and Denise. I didn’t run the whole 5k, but I tried to persuade the others that we should aim for it next year… Incentive for me to try to keep the training going, as I know it really helps me stay healthy in my crazy work lifestyle…
Though if you check out this fantastic panorama, it's hardly hardship to pound around these fields...Crysse kindly forwarded these jpegs taken on her visit; a decadent supper on Friday night at the Oak was followed by walking the crinkles from our psyches in the Malverns on Saturday, sustained by Long Hop ale and excellent fish and chips afterwards…
The pic taken in the woods on the Malverns seems to characterize my life situation at the moment somehow.
The Coleridge walk is now all booked up for September, but in the meantime, I’m off camping for our annual pilgrimage to Durdledoor - let’s hope the rain showers are less torrential than of late - a bit of Saturday's clemency will do just fine…
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
a few more words than usual...
Spiralling towards midsummer already… with weather to match - three days of it, at least.
Life goes on here at a very gentle pace at either end of the mayhem that is my working day, recently picking up the pace at weekends to include travelling to reconnect with friends and family.
I have at last joined Pershore library, which is open late on Fridays… unlimited supplies of fiction being a mixed blessing - I’m always at risk of succumbing to immersing myself in the fiction of others rather than my own. My last novel narrative session? The last Bank Holiday in May… my timetabled session to work up that rough draft into the main narrative scuppered by my borrowed laptop crashing on me, subsequently resisting all efforts to resurrect it.
Back to the drawing board (or the handwritten notebook); my fictional world is (temporarily) stalled again. As I’ve borrowed yet another laptop - this one with the facility for a memory stick - hopefully I’ll see an actual printed manuscript growing in the very near future… The typing has to begin from the very beginning, as I have no means of converting from floppy to CD/USB compatible memory stick… I’m looking forward to developing the existing narrative this time round, though.
We were left with no power following the strong winds last Bank Holiday; reminder of how reliant on electricity we are... I missed proper breakfast ( no cooker or microwave), my morning cuppa (no kettle), being able to phone/receive calls in the evening (no landline without the base station), and music. The fridge had a boost from my landlord’s spare generator - passed between me and my fellow tenants in the adjoining cottage. Such a boon to have a wind-up torch… unlimited reading without chewing through batteries!
My writing life mostly has a different configuration in Wych Avon to the Frome incarnation, but there are points of overlap. Crysse and I are still working together with ideas for our live n’ lippy poetry duo, including a performance at Fromeside as part of a Stepping Out Theatre Company/Dreamweavers collaborative project. We booked the media arts centre for Annabelle to give us direction and feedback; a very useful session (and great fun, which is what it’s all about anyway). Crysse is doing the bulk of the Dreamweavers project co-ordination and preparation with Steve - the Coleridge Walk dates are set for September, with a follow-up before the project’s conclusion in November.
A full day off for my six-monthly scrape and polish at the dentist allowed a day of dossing about drinking cappucino with other writers. David Johnson of Paralalia in Bristol came through to speak to the Frome Library group and perform at the Poetry Café; he joined Crysse and Ali and I at Diva’s Café between commitments. This is the bit I miss most about being so far from all familiar haunts and contacts; writerly conversations and contacts.
Driving home after the Poetry Café, full of fizzing ideas, I’d add and performances. The Garden Café is a lovely venue for poetry events, and the audience is always receptive and appreciative, but they seemed particularly so that night… Or maybe I just soaked it up more greedily than usual, given the scarcity of such opportunities in Wych Avon.
Last weekend, Atholl, Jemma and I were invited to Isla’s first communion. Two days in London, surrounded by a multicultural ambience… The music of French and Dida in the air, Russian, African and French accents… elegant woman, handsome men and energetic children of all ages - all collected together by a Catholic ceremony. In church, the bridal iconography a little unsettling - so many frills and fripperies decked with a ton of bling… An Irish priest to rival Father Ted’s finest… and no camera, battery flat as a pancake. Best just sup the champagne, then…
Which brings me to my referral to the Liver Clinic in Birmingham (I should be a radio 2 DJ with these suspect links); not sure quite what to expect… I’ll cross that one when I come to it. Better to approach it with no preconceptions…
Life goes on here at a very gentle pace at either end of the mayhem that is my working day, recently picking up the pace at weekends to include travelling to reconnect with friends and family.
I have at last joined Pershore library, which is open late on Fridays… unlimited supplies of fiction being a mixed blessing - I’m always at risk of succumbing to immersing myself in the fiction of others rather than my own. My last novel narrative session? The last Bank Holiday in May… my timetabled session to work up that rough draft into the main narrative scuppered by my borrowed laptop crashing on me, subsequently resisting all efforts to resurrect it.
Back to the drawing board (or the handwritten notebook); my fictional world is (temporarily) stalled again. As I’ve borrowed yet another laptop - this one with the facility for a memory stick - hopefully I’ll see an actual printed manuscript growing in the very near future… The typing has to begin from the very beginning, as I have no means of converting from floppy to CD/USB compatible memory stick… I’m looking forward to developing the existing narrative this time round, though.
We were left with no power following the strong winds last Bank Holiday; reminder of how reliant on electricity we are... I missed proper breakfast ( no cooker or microwave), my morning cuppa (no kettle), being able to phone/receive calls in the evening (no landline without the base station), and music. The fridge had a boost from my landlord’s spare generator - passed between me and my fellow tenants in the adjoining cottage. Such a boon to have a wind-up torch… unlimited reading without chewing through batteries!
My writing life mostly has a different configuration in Wych Avon to the Frome incarnation, but there are points of overlap. Crysse and I are still working together with ideas for our live n’ lippy poetry duo, including a performance at Fromeside as part of a Stepping Out Theatre Company/Dreamweavers collaborative project. We booked the media arts centre for Annabelle to give us direction and feedback; a very useful session (and great fun, which is what it’s all about anyway). Crysse is doing the bulk of the Dreamweavers project co-ordination and preparation with Steve - the Coleridge Walk dates are set for September, with a follow-up before the project’s conclusion in November.
A full day off for my six-monthly scrape and polish at the dentist allowed a day of dossing about drinking cappucino with other writers. David Johnson of Paralalia in Bristol came through to speak to the Frome Library group and perform at the Poetry Café; he joined Crysse and Ali and I at Diva’s Café between commitments. This is the bit I miss most about being so far from all familiar haunts and contacts; writerly conversations and contacts.
Driving home after the Poetry Café, full of fizzing ideas, I’d add and performances. The Garden Café is a lovely venue for poetry events, and the audience is always receptive and appreciative, but they seemed particularly so that night… Or maybe I just soaked it up more greedily than usual, given the scarcity of such opportunities in Wych Avon.
Last weekend, Atholl, Jemma and I were invited to Isla’s first communion. Two days in London, surrounded by a multicultural ambience… The music of French and Dida in the air, Russian, African and French accents… elegant woman, handsome men and energetic children of all ages - all collected together by a Catholic ceremony. In church, the bridal iconography a little unsettling - so many frills and fripperies decked with a ton of bling… An Irish priest to rival Father Ted’s finest… and no camera, battery flat as a pancake. Best just sup the champagne, then…
Which brings me to my referral to the Liver Clinic in Birmingham (I should be a radio 2 DJ with these suspect links); not sure quite what to expect… I’ll cross that one when I come to it. Better to approach it with no preconceptions…
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
May - month of the blossom moon...
My last blog entry was at the beginning of April. It's now nearly the end of May... My lifestyle here in Wych Avon is so completely different... my days are workaholically busy - reminiscent of my days with the retail company - and yet my time away from work is very 'stripped back' by comparison with my Frome incarnation... Much more solitary. Well, totally solitary - two weekend guests in a row have had to cancel!
I'm lucky to be able to connect so closely to nature - if I don't get out for a walk or (short!) run before work, it's unusual. And sometimes I manage a walk at sunset, too.
Time to notice things like...
the pointillist effects of blackthorn in bloom... I can tell the difference between hawthorn blossom and blackthorn now...
.JPG)
Of course, I know bluebells when I see them - my landlord told me there are wild orchids here too, and yesterday morning, I think I spotted them...
The cars are stars, too, given the job I'm doing (with Kit on holiday this week, I'm in charge, however unlikely that feels - me, running a repair garage? Whatever next...)
The towns nearby are wonderfully picturesque - quintessentially English. Not that I seek populated places much - these river scenes at Evesham were snapped on a foray to get proper running shoes (before I totally knackered my knees...)
I've found a fantastic massage therapist; so any damage the race for life training does, she offsets...
The first time I hit ten whole minutes of running, I was ecstatic... but progress is slow and erratic; plus I'm sporadically liverish at the moment.
My screen is telling me saving and publishing may fail. Time to give up and go home...
I'm lucky to be able to connect so closely to nature - if I don't get out for a walk or (short!) run before work, it's unusual. And sometimes I manage a walk at sunset, too.
Time to notice things like...
the pointillist effects of blackthorn in bloom... I can tell the difference between hawthorn blossom and blackthorn now... 
.JPG)
Of course, I know bluebells when I see them - my landlord told me there are wild orchids here too, and yesterday morning, I think I spotted them...
The cars are stars, too, given the job I'm doing (with Kit on holiday this week, I'm in charge, however unlikely that feels - me, running a repair garage? Whatever next...)
The towns nearby are wonderfully picturesque - quintessentially English. Not that I seek populated places much - these river scenes at Evesham were snapped on a foray to get proper running shoes (before I totally knackered my knees...)I've found a fantastic massage therapist; so any damage the race for life training does, she offsets...
The first time I hit ten whole minutes of running, I was ecstatic... but progress is slow and erratic; plus I'm sporadically liverish at the moment.
My screen is telling me saving and publishing may fail. Time to give up and go home...
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
another month flown by...
Life has been eventful since my last post (when is it ever anything else?)
- time spiralling away into spring…
At the start of March, I spent a week with Morph at Monkton Wyld Court (main house above) as a volunteer - a very interesting experience. It's always a treat to spend time with friends, and any new experiences are opportunities to learn - or be reminded of things you knew, but had forgotten! I was disappointed not to have more time to write; maybe I'm too conscientious. Next time I take a busman's holiday I'll remember it needs to be when there are enough daylight hours so that I can bookend the day with walking...
We managed a couple of visits to Lyme, though, which is always a treat. My day off was probably the ONLY sunny day that week... But it was spectacular.
Retreading a favourite training walk from the trek year - above, the approach to Golden Cap - was utterly fantastic. Bitter cold, but brilliant sun. Most of my photos have a skew-whiff horizon - either because it was so blustery, or because I still haven't adapted to using the digi-screen blind (i.e. in bright sun) instead of a viewfinder.
One of the best things about our Dorset/Devon trip was spending time with Ath on the way there and on the way back. Time to meet the new member of the family... big soppy softy.
Last weekend Ath's girlfriend Jemma let me ride her horse through the Longleat Estate. Here's Jon, standing beautifully for his picture - shame we cut his feet off, or it would be a perfect pic (aside from his scruffy rider, of course). I've only ever walked or driven through Longleat before, the extra elevation gave me a whole different perspective on the landscape. Amazing what a change in perspective can do. Such a thrill to be on horseback again... Next visit, I'll take my jodpurs and riding boots - just in case.
The woodland paths along from my house have been too waterlogged for my woods circuit walk for a week or two, but the bluebells are on their way - it'll be a riot of blue...
I would have expected that frosty morning walks (as above) belonged to memory by April... but not this year. The clocks going forward created a blip in my early rising pattern - as did picking up a virus in my joints just after I signed up to 'training' (aka trying to prepare for running with Karen in the Race for Life), but I'm adjusting again slowly. A couple of late night creative sessions threw a spanner in the waking works this week, but I think I'm rested again...
Stumbling downstairs on Sunday morning, half-asleep, the picture above shook me into full wakefulness - snow!!!
Too good a picture opportunity to miss...
The novel is 'rolling' again - 3,000 words at the weekend. I'm chuffed to bits. Twelve hours work, with another thirteen hours preparatory work to make those productive twelve possible.
Doing the numbers game;
168 hours in a week.
- 56 hours for sleep
- 50 hours for work
- 10 hours travelling to work
leaves 52 hours.
32 of those are at the weekend, leaving 4 hours a day for shopping, cooking, washing up, laundry, walking, admin, etc.
So to manage 25 hours out of those 52 for writing last week was miraculous. Sustainable? I wasn't walking much - still recovering from that virus, so we shall see...
My GP got my LFTs back, and didn't think they were mine - they were easily in the normal range. So I'm doing something right, at least - in spite of that 50 hour plus week - because my ALT levels were pretty high just before I moved here...
Lucy's 40th at the weekend will probably push them up again...
- time spiralling away into spring…
At the start of March, I spent a week with Morph at Monkton Wyld Court (main house above) as a volunteer - a very interesting experience. It's always a treat to spend time with friends, and any new experiences are opportunities to learn - or be reminded of things you knew, but had forgotten! I was disappointed not to have more time to write; maybe I'm too conscientious. Next time I take a busman's holiday I'll remember it needs to be when there are enough daylight hours so that I can bookend the day with walking...We managed a couple of visits to Lyme, though, which is always a treat. My day off was probably the ONLY sunny day that week... But it was spectacular.
Retreading a favourite training walk from the trek year - above, the approach to Golden Cap - was utterly fantastic. Bitter cold, but brilliant sun. Most of my photos have a skew-whiff horizon - either because it was so blustery, or because I still haven't adapted to using the digi-screen blind (i.e. in bright sun) instead of a viewfinder.
One of the best things about our Dorset/Devon trip was spending time with Ath on the way there and on the way back. Time to meet the new member of the family... big soppy softy.
Last weekend Ath's girlfriend Jemma let me ride her horse through the Longleat Estate. Here's Jon, standing beautifully for his picture - shame we cut his feet off, or it would be a perfect pic (aside from his scruffy rider, of course). I've only ever walked or driven through Longleat before, the extra elevation gave me a whole different perspective on the landscape. Amazing what a change in perspective can do. Such a thrill to be on horseback again... Next visit, I'll take my jodpurs and riding boots - just in case.
The woodland paths along from my house have been too waterlogged for my woods circuit walk for a week or two, but the bluebells are on their way - it'll be a riot of blue...
I would have expected that frosty morning walks (as above) belonged to memory by April... but not this year. The clocks going forward created a blip in my early rising pattern - as did picking up a virus in my joints just after I signed up to 'training' (aka trying to prepare for running with Karen in the Race for Life), but I'm adjusting again slowly. A couple of late night creative sessions threw a spanner in the waking works this week, but I think I'm rested again...
Stumbling downstairs on Sunday morning, half-asleep, the picture above shook me into full wakefulness - snow!!!
Too good a picture opportunity to miss...
The novel is 'rolling' again - 3,000 words at the weekend. I'm chuffed to bits. Twelve hours work, with another thirteen hours preparatory work to make those productive twelve possible.
Doing the numbers game;
168 hours in a week.
- 56 hours for sleep
- 50 hours for work
- 10 hours travelling to work
leaves 52 hours.
32 of those are at the weekend, leaving 4 hours a day for shopping, cooking, washing up, laundry, walking, admin, etc.
So to manage 25 hours out of those 52 for writing last week was miraculous. Sustainable? I wasn't walking much - still recovering from that virus, so we shall see...
My GP got my LFTs back, and didn't think they were mine - they were easily in the normal range. So I'm doing something right, at least - in spite of that 50 hour plus week - because my ALT levels were pretty high just before I moved here...
Lucy's 40th at the weekend will probably push them up again...
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About Me
- Haz
- I began blogging during training for a trek in the Himalayas... several lifetimes ago. Currently working on my novel - in the tiny spaces left by a 50 hour plus working week...