1 June 2007

Gentle pootling

After my relaxing day yesterday, the plan today was for me to be an unstoppable force in front of the keyboard. I have a work deadline in two weeks and still have 3000 words left to write, so it’s about time I discovered the prolific writer within.

It was not to be. I read, I tapped, I deleted, I tapped again, I scribbled in pencil, I sighed. Net result? 3002 words still to write. I must be the only person who can sit down to write who ends up with fewer than she began with.

Still, today was the last day of my brother’s visit so, in order to break the cycle of my completely unproductive and frustrating work pattern, we all escaped to a local pub for a late lunch. Just as well. When my brother is hungry, he’s wont to say that he could “eat the arse off a low-flying duck!” Not exactly one for mincing words, and yet to look at him you’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Once back from the pub I pottered in the garden. I’m trying to sort out various bits and pieces as well as tidy up and put some things in pots to tide them over through the process of the Potager Project. Essentially this means that the whole place looks like an explosion in a garden centre.

Liam made himself comfortable in a chair, sitting in the sunshine, watching me work while poking me with bamboo canes and offering words of encouragement, such as, “It stinks of turds out here.”

It’s just great having a little brother.

Filed under: Hard labour — Clare @ 6:24 pm