And so, I’m sitting here in the kitchen. Today’s the first day out of the box for my computer, Truman Bubbles. If you look beyond the monitor, out the giant window, there’s trees. And thistle. On our first morning here, last Monday, we were serenaded by sheep. We’re not in Edinburgh any more. Isla’s been running up and down the hallway pushing her new walker thing. I’ve already removed the musical panel. The TV is obscured by other boxes. However,…
In an attempt to revamp/reramp this blog, I’ll be participating in Writing 101. Hello! This is my 20 minute free-write. Honest. Isla is down for her afternoon power-nap. So I thought I’d write. 9 months ago, I thought I’d use her naps to write more often. In truth, she naps and I wait for her to wake up. Or I look at her. I look at her and wait for her to wake up. There is a lot of looking…
Dear Isla, You are six months and a bit. You are my Monkey, my Strumpet, My Favourite Baby. The first time I held you, I told you you’d been here before. And there’s an old soul shining out of your bright blue-grey-silver eyes. On a somewhat related note, I’m sorry for thinking that milk-blister made you look like a tiny version of Nanny McPhee for your first few days. I take it back. And I promise that wasn’t the reason…
It was the second day of NaNoWriMo, and I had the flu. I was also late, but every other month that doesn’t seem to matter much. One of my ovaries is shy. Or lazy. Anyway. I watched the flu episode of The Golden Girls and then sat down to write. And sneeze. Neil was at the gym and I was doing laps to the toilet to pee, between sneezes. I didn’t write much that day. But I counted. Six times.…
