Sunday

The cold spell seems to have broken. This morning is mild and damp and misty. The church bells are ringing, birds are singing, the lilac tree outside my window is about to pop (right now, it's lime and aubergine but in a few days expect soft green and, well, lilac).

Yesterday was rather a disaster. I'm not well, physically, and mentally I ain't worth toffee. I could not write but that didn't stop me trying. Fellow writers will know just what a disheartening waste of time resulted from that combination. I should have closed the computer and done something unconnected with the novel, such as cleaning. I did hit the shops with Milly, but only to buy food, of which I ate too much and the wrong sort. This morning, I have a non-alcohol related hangover.

But! In the bath, I did crack the block that I'd reached in the novel, a sag in the middle that was afflicting pace and plot. I think I will make notes and leave the actual writing for tomorrow when the schools are back and my time will be my own, more or less. Today I shall tidy, sew on Scout badges, write cards and wrap packages.

Happy Sunday!