Day of Disaster

Last week’s novel writing went quite well, around 5000 words done, which is not a great deal but I had a lot of revision to do on the earlier stuff so overall I was pleased with the place I am at. After a weekend away I planned to get stuck in as my diary was pretty empty but it just didn’t work out like that. One example of a disastrous day – 7.00 am had to get up early to collect some items I’d bought in order to get back home in time to make an appointment with a friend who was coming to buy a copy of my book. Writing session planned for after this. 10.00 am Friend did not turn up on time so waited till 11.00am then picked up pen and paper. 11.30am, partner decides to give lawn long overdue haircut. 11.40am. Loud swearing and shouting from garden as lawnmower refuses to start disrupts creative thought process. 11.50am Partner succeeds in getting mower to start but is now in bad temper, running round garden with it effing and blinding. Decide to make lunch instead and start writing afterwards. 11.55am Friend arrives to buy book while partner and I are having screaming row about lawnmowers and failure to respect creativity. 12.00 midday, I am in middle of making friend cup of tea when partner slices three fingers in lawnmower blades. 12.10pm persuade partner to go to hospital and not stick fingers together with sellotape while mopping up blood from kitchen and putting burned lunch in bin. 12.15, usher traumatised friend out of house, put partner in car and drive to minor injuries unit, still venting rage at not getting my writing fix, I mean who on earth puts their fingers in the blades of a running lawnmower? 1.30pm return from hospital with well bandaged and steristripped partner, make lunch and repair to library to get some peace. 2.30pm Get involved in chatting to knit and natter group in library and extensive search for Bruce Chatwin’s ‘On a Black Hill’, which is eventually found in the cellar archive. 3.45pm Arrive home with pen still unused and find dog crossing its legs, waiting for long ramble. 5.00pm Collapse on couch for well earned cup of coffee. 6.00pm After having to perform various tasks for partner which his injured fingers will not allow him to do, spend an hour answering emails and trying to put a link to another site on my website, which my webcreator is determined not to do. 7pm. Make supper. 8pm Give up all thoughts of writing and spend the rest of the evening knitting a teacosy to calm shredded nerves. Partner is looking on teletext for a winter sun holiday. I’m seriously thinking of going alone, just me and my pen.

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5 thoughts on “Day of Disaster

  1. skemjazzercarol

    Yes, Elizabeth, Arthur has tears in his eyes too, but not of laughter. The friend concerned was our Trevor and I don’t think he knew what hit him, especially while Arthur and I were fighting for possession of the lawnmower at one point.

    Reply
    1. Elizabeth Brown

      Sorry for laughing, Carol, but it sounded like one of my days when I set out to get some writing done. Hope Arthur is ok now. I could just picture him going around the garden swearing when the contraption wouldn’t work. The ending up knitting a tea-cosy, while Arthur checked out winter holidays, I thought was hilarious. But you made a book sale, so not a bad day in all!

      Reply

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