Playing at Spring


We know it isn’t really spring, right? A day lent, as A.’s Ma would have said; but it is doing a fair impression: washing drying on the line, bees in the Pulmonaria, first lunch in the garden (in jumper, but still!), but we are promised the bitter east wind back again, and rain too, so i ought to be out there really, making the most of it – I am being drawn away from the computer to inventory all the plants that have died in the snow and wet. It looks like we’ve lost a particularly lovely Cranesbill.

fourhorsemenSo multi-tasking as ever, I’m listening to a book on the Black Death by John Hatcher, thinking about the garden, updating Arachne’s website fixing links that have changed, and planning out a story that might make it to Liars’ League for their Kings & Queens theme.

The problem with running a publishing enterprise is that I have no more time for writing than I ever did when I was employed. My brain is at least in the right groove, so there are plans afoot for when I do have enough time: turning Mirror into a play, putting together the next collection, fine tuning The Dowry Blade in the light of feedback from fellow author Jack Murphy, and I’ve found my material for the opera I’ve been promising myself for two years. Oh and keeping this blog up to date!