Ants are eating the figs off my fig-tree. The shtarkers are fast!
Not much else happening here. It's warm and sunny and quiet, perfect for writing, which I am happy to say I am doing a lot of.
I miss London.
That said, I've sent off two essays and am polishing up a third one to send out before Sept 1. I also have two new opportunities for publication, which is nice & unexpected, but both will be new essays, unrelated to the book. New essays that I have yet to write. Meanwhile, I'm nearly finished with my last chapter and new intro, and will be sending out my book proposal in the fall. Go, little book proposal . . .
So my plate is full. But still I miss London, pints with friends, flirtatious men, obnoxious drunken yobs, the hilariousness that ensues when women follow high street fashion trends without any regard to body type, 10 pound plays at the national, BBC 3 and 4, and easy access to blue eggs.