Feeling wobbly

Been up at the chalet today.  it was beautiful up there – peaceful and sunny, birds singing and bees buzzing, wind chimes chiming… felt great until about 3 pm when Strangeness overcame me and I needed to come home.  Very creative until that point.

Still trying to unravel what happened to my first novel, aged 8…

Written on yellow paper.

Had never heard of Stevie Smith then…


Did feel quite positive until that point.  Now just feeling weird..

So twirly I’m getting dizzy

Mark went to a CND meeting last night.  Anna is Giving Up, so jobs have to be divided between other members.  I was slightly worried as he arrived home after ten, but turns out he was busy dividing.  Or being divided.

To the chalet today, though if I feel weird I shall come back again.

Twirliness must stop!  5.30 this morning and it’s Just Not Good Enough.  Still, today I will inhabit the chalet and consider the prospect of going into novel-writing purdah.  Can’t last too long though as I have a family who Needs Me – but I suspect that if I did stay too long nasty things would start happening to that morass I call my mind.

Pleased to find out on Facebook this morning that the execution (in Texas – where else?) of a guy who was convicted of 3 murders and was denied access to DNA evidence which might have cleared him, has now been blocked by the High court.



Have you read Annie Proulx?  I really like her – the novel “That Ole Ace in the Hole” is set in Oklahoma which is near Texas (insofar as anything is “near” in our tiny Anglo-Saxon minds in which Didcot is “near” Oxford)*.  She strikes a nice balance between irony and sympathy.

Read her!

She’s in the library.

Still trying to get hold of “New Moon” on DVD without shelling out a fortune.

Can’t really think of anything more to say.  So I will just twirl off.


Kirk out

Maybe I ought to have a new sign-off.

* Mighty, mighty Didcot!