I’ve lost count of the days I’ve been without my laptop. These days, when the kid leaves for school (because that happens here), she sets a stuffed animal on my notebook (an actual notebook, my faves are marble composition books and I talked them about here.) The stuffed animal is a scruffy looking cat with big eyes which Isla has named after me, and insists is my writing mascot. (Still not as scruffy as this one.) Anyway, the thing is…
And so, Gin & Lemonade has ticked over to ten years old. To celebrate, I’ve actually started writing a book, and then I dumped coffee on my laptop. Yes, again. Regular readers (are there any from ten years ago? I honestly love you) will know that coffee spills are a regularish thing around here. And that I name my computers. Hemingway met a watery end, replaced by Truman, and then Frank. I’m back to writing on Truman, lumbering and slow.…
We’ve reached a point in time where Neil and Isla are cleaning the fish tank for fun, she randomly announces ‘Look, Mum, I’m galloping,’ and bids me goodnight with, ‘G’night, old woman.’ What stage of lockdown is that? Neil also gave himself a buzzcut, but that’s possibly another post. In news possibly related to the ‘old woman’ thing, I’m working on a new writing project. And no, blogging is not procrastinating. A few weeks ago, I started a blog post…
I was counting the days, then I lost count. Staying home isn’t new to me, but when we moved here, I imagined having a birthday cake at my favorite bakery, going to the bookstore and then taking the kid to the zoo. Perfect day, complete with people-watching. But this year, everyone’s at home or should be. What day is it? One day last week, it was my birthday. The night before Isla was in her blanket fort, drawing. ‘Nothing to…
I twirl the ring on my right hand. I used to study my grandmother’s wedding ring on her left hand, and make wishes on it. These days I wear another ring of hers, and I twirl it when I’m nervous or happy or anything. I twirl it when I need her. And she comes through. When I’m sad, I eat. Most Sunday and Wednesday nights of my childhood were spent at my Nana’s kitchen table with her saying ‘Do you…
