I feel as if today is the first day of the rest of my life. This may be an illusion caused by not having got to bed until one o’clock in the morning (way past my bedtime) after driving home from Lochgelly where the theatre group performed ‘Sparkleshark’ again in the next round of the one-act play competition.
Actually I had been dreading that drive home for weeks. My eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be, and I wasn’t at all confident about driving on country roads in the dark, but oddly enough it turned out to be slightly easier than driving in town – I think my main problem must be oncoming headlights causing reflections in my glasses, and there weren’t very many oncoming headlights on the road between Cowdenbeath and Dalgety Bay at midnight!
Now I intend to spend a calm and quiet weekend completing the edits for ‘Death at the Happiness Club’. I’ve almost finished re-writing the problematic chapter mentioned in my previous post and I’m making good progress with the rest of my edits. After that I’ll still have to do a couple of sweeps through using the ‘Find’ option to track down my favourite words, and I’ll be finished. In this context my favourite words are not these with beautiful melodic sounds or words that remind me of something lovely, but vague woolly words that detract from the meaning of a sentence, such as ‘probably’, ‘possibly’ and ‘perhaps’.
The only things to disturb the calm this morning are magpies outside squawking at Jacques, and bees that fly into the conservatory by mistake and get trapped there, banging their heads on the glass until I call up long-lost tennis playing skills and bat them out again with a long-handled brush.