And so, I’m sitting in the office. My desk is somewhere between Isla’s crib and one of the bookcases. I kinda like that. Symbolism. Or something. We moved up here with more than 17 boxes of books. Yesterday was spent emptying them into the bookcases. In the old flat, I knew them so well, I almost didn’t see them. Favourites and doorstops, old schoolbooks I can’t part with. Those have been moved to the loft. What I’m looking at now…
Hi, my name is (still) Lorna. My kid is just over six months old, and I don’t know how the hell that happened. No, I don’t need a Biology lesson. I need a drink. I haven’t written anything longer than a Facebook update in well, six months. But yet, here I am. Today, I found myself in a bookshop, wiping a booger off Isla’s face and then smearing it on my jeans. Is that some sort of parent achievement unlocked?…
I must be feeling better. Started reading again, in between not entirely impolite requests for boob juice. For our anniversary, Neil got me a subscription to The Willoughby Book Club. I do believe he wrote and told them ‘my wife enjoys books that include gin and dysfunctional families.’ Bam! Kudos to the company for sending me a book I don’t already own and for sending Isla a story book! What are you reading these days?…
