Yesterday we spent a wonderful day with friends, walking by the canal. Ds1 went off fishing with one of their sons (well ds1 dangled the rod optimistically over the edge of the bridge into the water, which is closer to fishing than he usually gets). My friend and I wandered along the tow path with small people leaning precariously over the water, not-quite-so-small people waving swords and disappearing into woodland, and two dogs (one of whom needs some lessons in gender identification) doing what dogs do. We talked about living on a barge, chickens, knitting, jam, decluttering, life, the universe and everything important. It was one of those days.
I abandoned our very noisy cockeral in their garden (these are the people who have already adopted our secondhand rabbit) and dd chased their teeny puppy around the house like a demented terrier (her, not the dog). And then after prising ds2 off the life-support-machine (computer) i took them all home.
(Has anyone seen the littuns - you know, the non-swimmers?
Oh yeah, there they are, disappearing into the distance)
Tonight I am doing a performance with other writers in one of my writing groups. I'm not quite sure how I said yes, but obviously somewhere along this unrehearsed, slow-motion train crash that started way back in October I thought it would be a good idea to hop on. Are we doing it somewhere quiet and secret - no! We are doing it in a restaurant. A restaurant! Now whose big idea was that?! (not mine). And people - public, non-writing human beings - are actually coming and paying to see us do...er...not very much, very poorly. And if anyone mentions positive thinking to me I will smack them. Not even chocolate can fix this.