I was just about to give up on blogging because it's like shouting down the end of a vacuum cleaner if nobody (except No.1 daughter) ever leaves a message to say they've visited. But I'm not going to, so there.
This week's been a terrible rush: trying to get the house organised (because of Rome and Ireland (and Wales next week)) I haven't even dusted for weeks; add to that an apple tree groaning with fruit just waiting to be peeled and cooked and fruz. Add to that the washing machine breaking down just after we got back from Ireland, and a meeting being moved from somebody else's house to mine at two days' notice and you'll understand a bit why I'm tearing out my hair. And I'm also trying to organise Christmas presents (yes, really!) to take back with us next week so I don't have to post them from France to Wales which is expensive.
...and I haven't written a word for months. When I get back, I intend to start writing again. I'm sure it's affecting my concentration because there are all these words piling up in my head. I also have an idea for a picture book, and no time to even scribble a rough draft.
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