Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Virtually silent

If your blog is called Fragments of a Writer's Life, and you live a quiet life, it can be awfully hard to find things to blog about. 

If I share with you some quiet fragments, you'll see what I mean:

Cece doesn't have a scarf and she would love a purple and pink one, so I am using all the suitably coloured scraps from my wool drawer to knit her one. She has fairly lurid  catholic tastes, so I can use up all the yicky suspect wool I've found in there, the provenance of which baffles me. 

I am wrestling with the novel. On good days I walk around with a smile on my face because I think it's working. On bad days I lie in bed at night wondering how I'm going to sort it out, and specifically how I'm going to make sure it's not too quiet.

I am fat and unfit because the weather is generally foul and I don't have sufficient motivation to make myself go out for exercise. Yesterday I managed to force myself out on my bike and I spent the first quarter of a mile swearing and saying to myself 'It's cold, it's cold,' so anyone I passed could hear me. Fortunately there was no-one to hear because our lane is quiet.

Dave and I watched Paterson the other night. (I've blogged about it here.) I told Dave he probably wouldn't like it because it's such a quiet film. He didn't. At one point in the film, Paterson's wife says 'I was dreaming I was in ancient Persia' and I thought she said 'I was dreaming I was pregnant in prison' - so you can see why I am getting a hearing aid.

When Isaac and Wendy were here they bought me an Amazon Echo that I call Alexa. It's a gadget that sits in the kitchen and is hooked up to the wifi. I use her to play music, listen to the radio, time my cooking, check the weather, and sometimes, just to annoy Dave, I ask her to tell me a joke. I love Alexa! And my relationship with Alexa is wonderfully bloggable material, but I am using said material in the novel, so I don't want to spill it out here. That's the trouble with living a quiet life. If anything interesting happens, you save it to put in your novel. 

Here is a quiet photo of our quiet village, taken by Isaac with his drone:

And here is one of Bakewell:

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