I LOVE waking up without a list in my head.
I love not caring if Dave interrupts what I’m doing to tell me something interesting he has just heard on the radio. I love being able to sit in an easy chair with a cup of tea and look out of the window at the sky and the autumn leaves and not think I should be doing something more productive.
I am still in that post publication-frenzy hiatus which (as my friend Chrissie said) is like the time when all your exams are finished and you feel free to stay up late or stay in bed late, or not get up at all.
I am getting up. I am doing stuff like taking down the sweet pea canes, mending holes that have worn in three favourite jumpers,
having my hair cut as much like this as possible
in this picture from Isaac’s wedding from six years ago, when I had fewer wrinkles.
And I have joined a small, newly-formed jazz band, much to my delight and that of my sax teacher Mel. She seems to think that a single practice session has already improved my timing.
And when it rains I clear the drain down the lane. Every year it gets clogged up with leaves and other wayside debris and a torrent of water runs down the hill. There is something very satisfying about clearing drains. It reminds me of damming streams when I was little. It’s about changing the course of water. It’s messing about. I am becoming Compo in Last of the Summer Wine.
Yesterday, my grandson Tate was the latest person to ask me if I have started writing another book. I haven’t. But after seeing the film Love is All you Need, I have been thinking that the person who plays Kit in the film of Plotting for Grown-ups should not be Christopher Waltz, but Pierce Brosnan.
What do you think?