A waxing moon
Wrote a short self-contained Skelton Yawngrave story this morning and sent this off to Mindy to record. It has Skelton going to the Natural History Museum and the staff thinking he was an escaped exhibit. In the afternoon did some cosmetic housecleaning and worked more on my Guernsey Anthology site, which is just beginning to take shape, and will soon be ready to unleash.
Otherwise feeling tetchy. It is a significant birthday this month, and so naturally I have not been able to let this happen without a drift into brooding about failure and underachievement. At times like this meditation helps, so I meditated and then continued working with the waxing moon in my window until Lorraine came.
Talking to Lorraine made things seem better, and halfway through a pint of beer in the Cricketers, the world seemed positively fine, and I recalled that I was fairly big and clever. Thence to the Agra where we were warmly welcome by Ash the owner. There was a good new chef too. Chatting afterwards Ash said he is thinking of refreshing his restaurant, I offered to help him with rebranding it, which could prove an interesting little case study.
Home and we stayed up late watching the first episode of the final season of the brilliant and paranoia inducing Battlestar Galactica on DVD. D'oh. Hooked again.
Wrote a short self-contained Skelton Yawngrave story this morning and sent this off to Mindy to record. It has Skelton going to the Natural History Museum and the staff thinking he was an escaped exhibit. In the afternoon did some cosmetic housecleaning and worked more on my Guernsey Anthology site, which is just beginning to take shape, and will soon be ready to unleash.
Otherwise feeling tetchy. It is a significant birthday this month, and so naturally I have not been able to let this happen without a drift into brooding about failure and underachievement. At times like this meditation helps, so I meditated and then continued working with the waxing moon in my window until Lorraine came.
Talking to Lorraine made things seem better, and halfway through a pint of beer in the Cricketers, the world seemed positively fine, and I recalled that I was fairly big and clever. Thence to the Agra where we were warmly welcome by Ash the owner. There was a good new chef too. Chatting afterwards Ash said he is thinking of refreshing his restaurant, I offered to help him with rebranding it, which could prove an interesting little case study.
Home and we stayed up late watching the first episode of the final season of the brilliant and paranoia inducing Battlestar Galactica on DVD. D'oh. Hooked again.
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