Wake up at 9. Don't feel like facing machines in small, dark rooms. It's sunny. Perfect day for riding. Go to the woods. I run. And run. And run. And walk. On the island I stand still for a very long time looking for water voles. Daughter and I set up chocolate fountain (this is back home now). Decide to wait until we're feeling more chocolatey evening timeish. Instead, we unpack pasta machine. I've never done this before, daughter shows me how. It's fun, like washing in the olden days except then you shred it all into slivers and eat it.
Later on, though, I do get a page and a half done. Rewriting. Cutting the teeny crap. Any single word that has any hint of dubiousness goes. Then I print it. Because I have the two computer thing going now. Which is going to be like having two diaries unless I keep printing. Drive to Wimbledon. Drive back home. Now I have to drive to Wimbledon again. Some days are like that.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.