Storytime

Off for a few days to my sister's and her family. It's a time to rewind and relax. I have no phone reception up there and no internet or wifi. (Unless I want to walk up the hill behind their house or head into Omeo) It's a time for lots of chats and catching up. A little bit of reading ...but I do get a lot of thinking done. It's time out, out of the norm. Away from home. Away from work.... Time to think about the year that has gone...we'll have a drink or two to Dad...and to think about the year ahead. Vicki 

It's been one of those months. More work, less days spent writing- and of course - the guilt comes scurrying in. That voice that says, loud and clear, 'and you call yourself a writer!' In just that tone of voice that implies you should hang your head in shame and give it all up. I have written during the past month- a few poems, a short story, reworked a few old poems, submitted to an anthology, and scribbled over 4000 words on my YA novel - but still that voice persisted. Especially on one day. The day I did nothing. Cats understand chillaxin. They do very little apart from the art of relaxation. Us humans, however, have this inbuilt guilt. We think of everything else we SHOULD be doing. The washing, ironing, house cleaning, clearing out those cupboards that haunt us, and heh ...even writing. But sometimes we need to take a day off to recharge the batteries. To mope around the house, have a -dare I say cat nap? - to actually sit down and read in the afternoon witho...