The Season Turns
My cat is starting to grow her fur even softer and warmer. I'm digging out my ferret suitcase and trying to remember what it's like standing in front of an audience. I've put several projects on hold - weather witches and the Egyptian book are to be back-burnered for a while - to make room for another story - an experiment I'm giving the next so many* months to. My poetry mentor, Elizabeth Burns, has sent me her comments on the last tranche of poems, which means I need to absorb the wisdom and get stuck in to another batch. And the last few days I've had to turn the heating on.
It's autumn.
* A technical term which means "till Christmas but longer if it's going well".
posted by Joan Lennon @ 2:14 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
Good luck for the next writing season. I'm enjoying the calm of your photos before Sunday's promised autumn gales.
Oh good - can we look forward to lots more poetry? And in due course the ebook?
Your FERRET suitcase?? I want one of these. Is it a suitcase in which to transport ferrets, or perhaps a suitcase made of ferrets??.
Thanks Penny, and yup, Madwippitt, sounds like a plan. And Gill, IN, not OF, though I can picture a smallish handbag made of ferrets - sleeping, I hasten to add. Sleeping ferrets are very malleable, I believe. But when they woke up all your stuff would fall on the floor ...
Presumably a ferret suitcase would be full of rabbits?
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