Today was not supposed to be a blogging day. Today was going to be entirely devoted to writing my book for NaNoWriMo, and blogging was going to be delayed until I had reached my target. . Ideally I should now be 21,671 words into writing my latest novel. I started a few days late, (should have been November 1st, and by writing 1667 words per day, a 50k book baby would be cooked by the end of the month) and was planning on writing a few hundred extra words each day, to compensate. I was up to 14k by lunchtime today, and it was OK. Not my best work ever, but OK for a first draft. And then my MacBook froze, for no reason I could fathom. I tried all the usual tricks but nothing happened. I left it for a while, but it was still the same when I returned. The cursor arrow was still moving, but nothing else. So I shut it down and walked away. I had saved my work earlier, so wasn't too worried. But when I booted it up, the file on which I was working had disappeared. And when I searched for it, there was only the original document, created on 5th November. I have saved it on multiple occasions, although only by pressing the little save icon and not under a different name. And I leave everything open when I stop working. So many mistakes apparently. I have tried to recover the lost file, and so has H, but it is nowhere to be found. So I am starting all over again, and, trying to look on the bright side, will this time know how to avoid the pitfalls and the blind alleys, and will also be saving my work regularly.
I have taken to working in the den once again, as I am too distracted in the kitchen; by the radio, the dishwasher, and the larder, which calls out to me, enticing me to look inside, and then laughing in my face, waving dry noodles, stale ryvitas and out of date angel delight at me. So here I am, back in my writing den at the front of the house, surrounded by bags of Christmas presents, boxes of Christmas cards and crackers and wrapping paper. I took a trip to Jones' Wholesalers just before Lockdown and stocked up, just in case we don't make it out of Lockdown in time for the festivities. Little did I know that Jones' Wholesalers are not closing, and I needn't have rushed. This Lockdown feels very different from the first one and I don't really understand how so many shops are open this time. The roads still seem just as busy, and there are so many more people about. I know schools are fully open, but everyone just seems to be carrying on as they did before November 5th. Out for a walk, nobody bothers to keep 2 metres away from each other on the paths, and there isn't even the 'just be kind' or 'we're all in this together' ethos that was often apparent during the first Lockdown. Everyone just seems grumpy and miserable, and intent on ignoring the rules (at least in my house). I am fed up with having to justify why they can't do exactly what they want to do; I'm fed up with being on Lockdown patrol. I have told them that the rules are not made by me, but that they are adults (or almost), and need to just get on with it. The message is fairly clear by now. Stay at home. Protect others. Wash your baked potatoes etc. https://youtu.be/yYOkgCkxj9I
I have stopped being enchanted by the colourful crunchy leaves, the elaborate cobwebs and the busy squirrels, and now I am just fed up with stupid people who think they are exempt and invincible.
Thank goodness for sunbeams. One came to play on Monday, and spent most of the day sitting in the big box which my new saucepans came in, but with a few bits cut out and a few bits stuck on.
And the other arrived on Tuesday evening, a few days late, but well worth waiting for. His name is Otto, and he's a little corker. We are all very proud of his parents, who did such a marvellous job in growing him and bringing him into the world. He is born into a large family, with hundreds of uncles and aunties and cousins, and several grandparents. Some of his family members are steps, but I am of the opinion that step doesn't count for second generations, so I am over the moon to be a first time grandmother. I will be known as Jan, as were my mum, and her mum, to their grandchildren, even though they were christened Beryl and Iris. I am desperate to meet Otto, but will have to wait until Lockdown is over, one of the hardest things I've had to do in a while.
An additional feature; please enjoy the new soundtrack to this week's blog, courtesy of my youngest great niece. Good job!!
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