This morning, at 7:48 a.m., my cellphone beeped to announce a text. I saw that it was from MrD's childminder and thought: Uh-oh. It turned out she'd woken up sick, so of course she couldn't look after MrD this morning after all. I spent the next half hour silently bewailing the fact that Patrick and I had lost the big three-hour writing session we'
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We used to live by a wood that was magical in a very different, American sense -- majestic beeches and pines, with sunlight filtering through, and rivulets and strange glacial formations everywhere. Sweetpea called it the "Wild Wood." We're still looking for something to take its place here in Oxfordshire.
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