Life, it happens.

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What a month it has been. There you are, minding your own business, attempting to keep your home, career and life in order, and a big pile of manure is dropped from afar. I had eight further titles planned, ranging from children’s books to adult fiction and also an historical novel set in Sydney. That one is particularly interesting, having interviewed some real characters a while back, who told me some unknown goings-on in the city of sails. Will I continue working on these titles until they are ready to be brought into the light? You bet! They came into my mind for a reason, and I will see it through. I have to find a publisher, and I have to believe that it shall happen.

After my publisher folded, life became dark and heavy, as though I were cocooned in a grey film. I am a butterfly, dammit! I fought hard to metamorphose from a caterpillar! Back to the drawing board, back to the beginning. I have done it before, many times. Spending weeks in Intensive Care units at thirteen years of age, learning to walk again, starting a new cycle of IVF… I can do it; however, it doesn’t mean I like it. How many times can you dust yourself off? Hundreds of times, as it turns out.

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We lost this little guy this morning. His name was Snowball, and he was a real character. My daughter found him in a store where rescue animals are sold, and fell in love. I did too. He would look at me in disgust when I fed the other guinea pigs corn silk, and grab the juicy corn cob from my hands and run off with it. He broke into the girl’s side of the yard (partitioned off), and when I witnessed him “hugging” one of the girls, I asked him what he thought he was up to. I thought he was just being a bit full-on with his affections. He impregnated every girl, and soon we had lots of his babies. He was the Garfield of Guinea Pigs, either sleeping or eating. We would set him on the floor and whilst the other piggies would run, he would walk a few steps, then plonk down. He was poorly two nights ago, and we rushed him to the vet. They operated that night, as he was unable to pee. For two days we waited for news of his recovery. Bless you Snowball. You filled our lives with joy for the time we had you. The vet refused to take any money, which was incredibly kind.

I am sitting up in bed, sick with a bad virus. So much to do but with no energy to do it. I think it’s my body’s way of saying I have to stop for a while. Stop running and stop over-committing. Of course, as a mum home schooling her child, I can’t just crawl into bed and build a blanket fort, but I can slow down. I can plan our next house move whilst doing so, and I can dream at the same time. As I wrote in my book, just as I thought my story was winding down, I find it has only just begun. If you are going through hell, my advice is to keep going. Eat well, hydrate. Do only what is necessary. Let the world wait for your second-wind and recovery. This is exactly what I intend to do.

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