On average three times a year I give up my little Victorian terrace (VT) to house-sit for my sister in the country. I find myself 'discombobulated' - (a word an American friend of mine uses frequently - basically 'confused' and 'out of sorts'). After a day or two I settle but for a Victorian terrace gal this sprawling place in the country is (a) dark, (b) too quiet and (c) not near any shops! Each day I drive back home to check on my little menagerie which is where I discovered Harriet (the hamster) had curled up and died alone - silly I know to get so sentimental but then I discovered my central heating had stopped working so I taunted myself that she'd died curled up, alone and cold! I gave her a fitting little burial (the cat watched on suspiciously!) and vowed that was the very last little rodent pet I would own - I mean my sons are teenagers now!
So in the midst of all this how is my writing going? Badly is the best answer - I take a laptop to the country house but it's just not the same - it's far too 'tippy tappy' - my words do not have 'oomph' - to write, I need to bash my keyboard - (unsure what should be read into that!) I do have a plan - come Monday morning I shall be back in my VT, back in my routine and more importantly back to my beloved keyboard :-)
1 comment:
Oh, I so feel for you with Harriet. You will miss her. Dreading my Rocky going. He belongs to the teenager but seems to have ended up as mine.
I agree about routine. It's the only way I can get any writing done but getting and keeping a routine going is easier than it sounds.
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