Isn't a writing day at all.Gwen has the dreaded lurgy and I tried to write my half-hour but my eyes were doing something weird (all fine now) so I walked the pooch and went up to our house and unpacked about twelve or so boxes. Here's the thing - our kitchen at the house we built was about twice as big and we grew to fit it. Can we shrink? I don't know. Gah.
Then I went off and saw my grandkids. I was chatting to them about this and that and reading the first of the Famous Five books - An Adventure to Treasure Island - I think it is called. Those suckers are 70 years old. I remember loving them as a kid because sometimes George (the first trans-gendered fictional character I believe) would call Julian an ass which was okay in Britain apparently. So we were discussing why they could only wear jeans on holidays and why were they having a 'holiday' in the summer which is now called a 'break' and so forth. My grand-daughter Hannah told me she was going to be a writer. Yahoo! I love it! Then a little later I asked her if she'd read all her Christmas books yet and she said she had and I said 'not Little Women! I wanted to read you that!' and she said yes she'd read it and Jo was her favourite and I said Jo was my favourite and the penny dropped. Of course she wants to be a writer. It worked!!!!
Now we are waiting for our real-estate agent to drop by so we can sign papers for an offer on a property we might like to have. So I will write until she gets here as my eyes aren't being deranged.