So, this morning…
Domestic Goddess in action and tea-loaf in oven, spinach soup on stove top. Larder investigated. Rubbish out and – whoa – is it coffee-time?
Who would have thought a hundred days of diary writing was within my capability? Not me – as I knew when I started that keeping up a journal was not my thing.
Who would have thought a hundred days would be necessary? My friend and fellow Capital Writer, Kate Blackadder, is keeping her own private plague diary and, as she began the week before, is already through 100.
And what has kept me going? (I can’t speak for Kate, but she may wish to comment?) I realised that I needed a project, or my subconscious realised it. I’m not a gardener. I don’t do running. The writing is always there and, therefore, not a project.
Life in a bubble is hard. Not hard as it must be for those working in front line and key positions. Their lives are unimaginable. However, when a task orientated life disappears with little or no warning, how do you cope? What gets you up in the morning?
For some it may be the perfectly trimmed front lawn and for others a daft nod to what filled the day. I hope it’s bringing a nod of recognition to a few of you.
As well as information. Have you ordered an online meal yet? Several available, as well as ready-cooked. This week we’re trying Appetitedelivers. Their facebook page with the menus and some amazing pics is here
So, yesterday, sorted out one bit of outstanding business, found the characters for my draft serial, failed to sort out the phone contract, DH won the scrabble again but lost at croquet (opponent had 10 bisques or free shots) and finished the jigsaw.