Writing in my head is like dancing lying down. It has its place and it can be very good fun. Not much sitting at the desk this morning, I’ve been doing housework.
I rate housework slightly higher than going to the dentist but below shopping. Any shopping. I know it’s very unwomanist but my attitudes to shopping are unreconstructedly male. Decide what you want, go and get it. Come away.
I feel much the same about housework. I’m strategic. When necessary a room must be blitzed.
Dogs for the Disabled are coming. Some housework is therefore a necessity.
I’m excited. I am resisting trawling YouTube for ideas of what a dual trained dog might do. I’m guessing it’s important I listen to what’s possible and what isn’t.
My primary need is to get about safely. Anything else my new guide dog does will be a bonus. It would be great is s/he could pick things off the floor and bring them to me rather than walk off with them and give them a nasty suck (gifted Newfoundland dog strategy).
So this morning I’ve been writing in my head. Mulling over some changes to SLEIGHT OF HAND. I’ll be ready to get something down on paper tonight. Until then I’m looking like a domesticated Dalek.