I'm educating myself this week.  Education is a life-long process, I'm told.

I've learned what the sort-of-Roman-nail-with-thingybobble,  star of my last post, is actually called.  It's a building pin, which doesn't sound half so thrilling as it should.  But if you go to page 942 of the Screwfix catalogue, you can see one in action, holding a ( Read more... )

The thing is, other writers understand perfectly that you don't see the world in quite the same way as other people.

It's not only writers, of course.  I mean, when Picasso saw a toy car,  he didn't think, "What a great toy car!"  He thought, "Wow!  A baboon's muzzle!"

Now, I'm not suggesting that I'm Picasso, but I just got That Look from another ( Read more... )

I've promised myself that I'll update my journal in here, too, so here it goes (yes, it's a duplicate of the other but never mind...)

#1 The road less travelled

In the aftermath of my friend's funeral (mentioned very briefly because it feels odd to be writing about it in here) and, coincidentally, opening the local paper at the jobs page and seeing ( Read more... )