Thursday, January 26, 2012

Easy work, brave and the fever.

1. To have a few hours of easy work. I love to write -- but Ernest Hemingway sums it up best: 'There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.' That's what it's like for me, even when I'm drafting a 20-word brief.* Anyway -- the only requirement for this job (apart from 'able to follow the damn instructions') was 'be a native of the United Kingdom'. So I worked and will be paid, but I didn't feel the usual terrors about being good enough.

2. Alec is -- once again -- very brave about his vaccination. The tears are still wet on his face but he is laughing with his granny.

3. After supper, a very sleepy little boy falls asleep in my arms on the sofa. He feels hot and damp and soft and weak when he wakes up, so we give him some Calpol. Then lots of milk while I tell him again about vaccinations and how he's being protected and protecting the poorly children who can't have them.

* Even when I'm writing a postcard. Or indeed a 3BT. It's easier than it once was -- practice practice practice has dulled the pain -- but it's still not what I do for pleasure.