At long last, I return to the blog, although this is really just an excuses excuses post. Things have been a little chaotic. I meant to at least post a proper end-of-year-roundup, but in the week leading up to Christmas, this happened:
What you’re looking at it the remains of my poor vegetable garden, and a huge pine tree that decided they had to be together.
Actually it’s not just the veggies. There’s a small potting shed under there too. Stewart had been in it a matter of minutes earlier, putting away his tools after doing a round of the veggies and tying up the tomatoes. (Irony? Anyone?)
Most of our Christmas was spent trying to retrieve what garden we could from the wreckage. For the most part, the veggies have now been repaired or replaced, and much of the tree cut off and taken down the back to season. I’m going to really enjoy burning the sodding thing, come winter.
So that’s the end of this amuse-bouche post. Next post will attempt to be at least tangentially related to writing. And will be soon, I promise. And will touch on matters such as judging, CPIT, and coming across comments scribbled in the margins of a poetry magazine … and the shock of realising that I wrote them, more than a decade ago. (Has my taste improved? Was I über-judgmental even then? What was the journal? And who were the poets?)
Stay tuned for this, and so much more …