Had a Great Time but Not Feeling Too Well

Here I am, home again from my wanderings. But I'm not really compos mentos (is that spelt correctly, I wonder?) I have returned with yet another ferocious cold, and it's only two weeks since I felt free of the last one. I knew it was coming before I went, and I'd called two friends to help me decide whether to cry off. They both begged me to come anyway, so I did.

It was probably a mistake. I've been on trains and buses between here, London and Leeds, and can just imagine my germs spreading wide from the south to the north of the country. If you are in the UK and have caught my cold, I can only apologise.

For most of the time I was away, I held the worst of it at bay. I was out enjoying myself with people I don't see all that often. I got plenty of fresh air but didn't stay out late. After lunch with a final group of buddies yesterday, when I got back to my daughter's house in South London, I really started to feel rough. Because there were no more jolly jaunts planned, I guess my mind decided I could allow myself to be sick.

So this morning I prepared for the train journey by buying Lockets lozenges and fresh supplies of tissues, and then tucked myself away in the rear-most corner of the railway carriage. And now I'm home and have loads of catching up to do, while all I feel like doing is tucking myself in with a hot water bottle.

So I'll stop writing for now and promise something more interesting for my next post.

Do Writers Ever Switch Off?

I’ve just read an article about freelancers and holidays. It seems that most acknowledge they a) need their breaks and time to switch off, and b) fear the results of taking holidays away from their homes and computers, ie losing out on potential work because they are not there to answer the phone or collect emails.

Many people find ways to do this anyway, even when they are half way across the world. When I was away recently I resolutely walked past the internet café every day, but I admit it was tempting. I did turn on my mobile for a short period each day, to check for messages and texts, but that was really in case family wanted to get in touch.

What I did have with me, and use, was a notebook and some pens. The writer in me simply has to record what we’ve done and where we’ve been. And at some point I have to write out the ideas that I’ve been thinking up during the day.

Another item of writing equipment is my trusty camera. It’s a lightweight digi SLR, and I’m actually thinking I also need a little compact that’s even easier to carry everywhere. But that won’t get further than my wishlist for a while. Anyway I try to have one with me most of the time, and I’ve recently transferred nearly 200 holiday shots onto the computer.

So here’s yet another holiday shot from Minorca – the taula at the Torralba d’en Salord. The human figure shows the scale of the tablet, which we are told was used for worship. There are a number of prehistoric settlements on the island, and it is known as an open-air museum.

AWOL

Ok. So I wasn't here last week. My last blog was on Friday 4th April. And I'm supposed to be here on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That's one of the rules I've written into my schedule.

But I forgot to give myself any leave. So when I planned some holiday breaks, I just had to go AWOL.

For anyone who doesn't know, that means absent without leave. I probably wouldn't have known that myself if I hadn't spent four years in the WRAF (before they dropped the W) in the dim and distant past.

Funny how you can go months and months with no break from the tedium of working at home, and suddenly everyone seems to have a very good reason to want you to be somewhere else, week after week.

Last Monday it was a special birthday party in Eastbourne. This entailed breaking the journey (with a detour to south London) to overnight at my daughter's on Sunday, and then doing another overnight in an Eastbourne B&B, before visiting the birthday pal's new house (some people do manage to sell their houses and move) on Tuesday and then making the long trek home.

So, while I was in my office at home on Wednesday, I couldn't find time for my blog with all the catching up and then preparing for family descending on me on Thursday - before we took off on Friday for a long planned 4 nights in a caravan at Woolacombe. We three generations of females, grandma (me), mum and daughter(4) with friend(7) in tow, had a wow of a time. Every time we phoned our respective homes, they were drowning in rain while we were basking in sunshine. Hope it doesn't mean we've had our luck for the year.

Anyway I'm just back from there. And have be in Torquay by Friday to see my sister and some friends over a couple of days. After only two weeks free before I'm booked to babysit the 4 year old while daughter swans off to Madrid for a hen party.

And would you believe it, as I write, I get an email asking if I can do a weekend in Bovey Tracey at the end of May, and then take a call from my husband's nephew to invite us to his engagement party on 17th May - in Leicester?

Hopefully I won't be AWOL from here too often, but if you do miss me, at least you know why.