When I write I do very little (or no) editorial polishing mainly because I think I might suffocate all that freshness out of it by being hyper-critical. Of course, I'll do a cursory, casual 'once-over' but I can't bring myself to agonise over every little comma or adjective... Maybe this means I am lazy - or maybe it means I have developed enough self-confidence to just write for the sheer love of it! Whatever the verdict, I am my happiest when writing...
Summer has definitely moved onto its celestial course down to the other hemisphere, so that we are forced to sit with scarves wrapped woolenly about our necks and the gas bill climbing ever higher. My passion for winter I've had since a child has been frozen into a mere memory so that I have to do my utmost to not let this perpetual chill get me down. Strangely enough, last weekend was magnificently warm - as if the sun were teasing us by saying - ha! this is the last you'll see of me till June next year! Har har!
Craig is at a rugby match this wind strewn afternoon with the Colts - the under-11 rugby team he coaches at school, while I am home in my jarmies (and scarf!) cuddling on the warm couch with my laptop - catching up with a world of emails that seems to spin and spin and spin! How people coped with living abroad I don't quite know. My brother was one of the first in the SA exodus to London in the '90s - and he'd phone for our birthdays for 10quid a minute! Now it only costs a mere half a pence a minute to call home... Most days I find myself chatting to my mom with a cup of tea usually for an hour or more. Though email is great for corresponding and staying in touch, NOTHING can beat a languid, detailed chat on the phone - hearing the dogs barking in the background or the doorbell ring...
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