My notebook's full of stuff, other people's stuff, planning for work, snatched moments when I've managed to put down a few ideas. But it's a good notebook. It came from Sukie, they're based in New England House in Brighton. They do lovely travel journals and diaries you write your own dates in. But why do notebooks not have a mix of lined and plain paper? Well, cheap ones don't anyway. I'd like to try a sketch now and again.

It feels like we've had nearly six months of winter. Still no long hot days. Just rain.

I've been concerned with keeping slugs off my seedlings. They've also had the lupins, as they did last year.
I've been downloading birdsong because I'm up so early I thought I'd try and identify the dawn chorus. There's some good stuff on the BBC website.
I've had my bike mended at last.
I've been remembering people like Aunty Jean and a boy called Clifford.
I'd like to tour the coast of Britain in a camper van. But I don't have a camper van.
I remembered the swimming pool attendant from South Street, Farnham. The pool was demolished. Do you demolish a pool?
I've been weeding between the rows of spinach and leeks.
I've been writing lists.
I've been wondering how to get rid of about 200 copies of my second book, Party.

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