Speechless

For some reason I put the TV on this morning to see debate between a young man of twenty-one and a lady of, perhaps, seventy in which the former was telling the latter that they should keep working because it cost so much to look after the elderly. Where do they find these people? I suppose it makes good 'telly'.

I'm not retired - I work from home. It's a strange life but I wouldn't swap back. I still get up at 0730 and work until tea time but I can fit other things into my day. For now, I am barely writing because I have so much proofreading and editing to do but these new books of mine can wait.

I imagined myself writing in a garret in Italy overlooking a lake, drinking coffee and contemplating the world. It's not like that. But it is good. For all those years of wilderness writing, I never called myself a writer but now I can legitimately describe myself as such.