Well, I have a good excuse for my absence - I’ve been moving the firewood from the front driveway to the steel shed out back.
I bought three cubic metres of red gum which meant nothing much to me until the bloke with the truck dumped it on the drive. Put it this way, if you’d have climbed it you’d have been able to see China and would have needed an oxygen mask.
It took me two days to haul it out back. I felt like I was a contestant on Biggest Loser. I have to say, exercise is not all it’s cracked up to be.
That aside, I’m bashing on with Mr Wolf which is nearing the end of draft two. I just have a couple of plot turns to sort out and then I reckon once I’ve read it through again and dickered with it some more and given it to a couple of friends to read it’ll be ready to go to publishers. I’m getting pretty happy with it. I’ve also had an idea for a crime thriller (I know, yawn, but I reckon I’ve got a unique take with this one) which I’m thinking about a lot at the moment and it’s taking shape nicely, though only in my brain so far.
This morning Three fell over running into Six’s school and banged the back of his head. I think he might have given himself a bit of mild concussion because as soon as we got back home at 9.30am he went to sleep on the sofa and snored like an old man until 11.30. Then he sprang up and said, “I alright now. Where my lunch?”
That aside the two of them are driving me nuts with their arguments about nothing. A couple of days ago we were out in the Bentley, both of them strapped in their own back seats and Three says, “Six, don’t look out of my window.” Six replied that it wasn’t his window and so Three rapped hard on the glass several times and said, “Hear that, Six. That is the sound of my window.”
Another day as we drove along Six said, “Daddy, I’m just watching that cloud up there.” Three said, “Six, that is my cloud. Do not look at it.”