It's a bit like that old Flanders & Swan comedy song from long ago - The Gas Man Cometh. Lately, it seems that everything and everybody, except the gas man (we don't have gas here) has plotted to interrupt the flow of my work. My old laptop decides to call it a day after nine years service, so I buy a nice new advanced one, get a computer whizkid to set it up for Internet and everything falls down about his ears just before he has to leave the country! I'm left with the new laptop and the fairly new pc in only semi-working order without the facility of e-mail between the two. I call in the big guns and pay highly to have things put right and agree to things I really ought to have said "no" to, but it all sounded so practical. However, somebody else's practicalities don't always work. I'm now waiting for the same big guns to come back this afternoon and unsort what he sorted, then resort to where I was before everything went wrong.
Consequently, not much writing has been achieved, so I decided to get on with my painting. However, with afternoon temperatures rising up to 50° my glass fronted studio turned into a microwave into which the flies came to buzz me and bite me, so I managed to fix up a mosquito net across the open door and place a large parasol in front - worked fine. Today, I was all set to do some painting when I heard that the men were coming to put up the guttering above the studio. Bang goes my painting.
Meanwhile, my brain has suddenly (my husband wouldn't agree with the word suddenly) gone to mush and I've had a stream of appointments get mixed up in it, so I'm now doing the dead dog act and lying on my back with my legs in the air. Give up, my brain says. Pull yourself together my heart tells me - you're not ready to be a couch potato yet.
Consequently, not much writing has been achieved, so I decided to get on with my painting. However, with afternoon temperatures rising up to 50° my glass fronted studio turned into a microwave into which the flies came to buzz me and bite me, so I managed to fix up a mosquito net across the open door and place a large parasol in front - worked fine. Today, I was all set to do some painting when I heard that the men were coming to put up the guttering above the studio. Bang goes my painting.
Meanwhile, my brain has suddenly (my husband wouldn't agree with the word suddenly) gone to mush and I've had a stream of appointments get mixed up in it, so I'm now doing the dead dog act and lying on my back with my legs in the air. Give up, my brain says. Pull yourself together my heart tells me - you're not ready to be a couch potato yet.
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