Dahling
After a very few drinks with Anton the night before, I had a disproportionately terrible headache first thing this morning. However this soon passed off, thanks to ibuprofen balanced by Japanese green tea. It is important to balance drugs with something virtuous.
Writing my skeleton story all day till 4 - breaking happily through the 30k words mark for the first draft, which is rapid progress indeed. My hero Skelton Yawngrave is the tops. I am having fantasies about a Skelton Yawngrave theme park and myself busy counting vast pots of cash. Leaving all the future royalties to a children's hospital like JM Barrie did with his Peter Pan story for Great Ormond Street seems a good idea. But I am getting ahead of myself... Erm. Maybe I need to finish it first.
Then went for a swim. I'm just not liking this pool in Brighton very much. It is always very splashy and elbowy and crowded. When not being overtaken by people twenty years older than me, I get trapped behind others. It simply does not create the zen-like state of mind that my old pool in Hammersmith did. One thing is nice though, everyone gets a cubicle to change in, so I can rub my walrussy old hide with the necessary unguents without attracting the wrong sort of attention.
Cooking again. Although I have had to stop baking bread as I simply eat it, all of it very quickly. Made tonight a cheeky dahl and rice with a mixed vegetable curry. Very tasty, even if I say it myself, which I do.
After a very few drinks with Anton the night before, I had a disproportionately terrible headache first thing this morning. However this soon passed off, thanks to ibuprofen balanced by Japanese green tea. It is important to balance drugs with something virtuous.
Writing my skeleton story all day till 4 - breaking happily through the 30k words mark for the first draft, which is rapid progress indeed. My hero Skelton Yawngrave is the tops. I am having fantasies about a Skelton Yawngrave theme park and myself busy counting vast pots of cash. Leaving all the future royalties to a children's hospital like JM Barrie did with his Peter Pan story for Great Ormond Street seems a good idea. But I am getting ahead of myself... Erm. Maybe I need to finish it first.
Then went for a swim. I'm just not liking this pool in Brighton very much. It is always very splashy and elbowy and crowded. When not being overtaken by people twenty years older than me, I get trapped behind others. It simply does not create the zen-like state of mind that my old pool in Hammersmith did. One thing is nice though, everyone gets a cubicle to change in, so I can rub my walrussy old hide with the necessary unguents without attracting the wrong sort of attention.
Cooking again. Although I have had to stop baking bread as I simply eat it, all of it very quickly. Made tonight a cheeky dahl and rice with a mixed vegetable curry. Very tasty, even if I say it myself, which I do.
Comments
I pounced onto Google, typed "Trotsky Guernsey" and was directed to your blog. I read a few of your posts and somehow was "inspired" to come up with a post of my own, which I hope you can take the time to read.
I still haven't worked out if Trotsky ever spent time in Guernsey, or if the story is one of those invented memories of mine along with Dame Edna appearing in Neighbours.