It's so embarrassing that I've decided that a new post should come before this morning's breakfast and shower. Although not before coffee, of course.
Why such sudden slackness? After all, I've moved to the other side of the earth, away, allegedly, from all the cultural attractions of London, to a place that should have allowed me more time to write.
But I didn't factor in the time that it takes to adjust to a new lifestyle. New job, new house, new garden, new pets.
Not long after I wrote the last post, I started working as a contract writer, part time.
I also planted a garden.
Then we got a dog, a Kerry Blue Terrier called Lein.
Then the dog bit the plumber.
So we had to take the dog to a behavioral specialist.
The behavioural specialist cost $170 a session.
So I had to work more hours to pay for it.
Then the cat got into a fight, got an abscess and needed antibiotics crushed and hand fed to him twice a day for a week.
Then he got fleas, and from the fleas, tapeworms. We treated him for both. And the dog, too.
The dog needs to be walked, fed and trained twice a day.
The vegie garden needs to be watered every day, weeded every few days, and monitored for ripening vegetables.
Aphids must be plucked by hand from the young leaves of the new lancewoods I have planted in our front garden.
There has been no time for TV, going to the movies, eating out or going away. Let alone writing.
The funny thing is, this is all normal stuff for most people here. But after living in London with no pets and no garden, it has been hard to adjust to. I'm only just starting to find a balance. But would I change it? Hell no. Here is the dog:
And from this week, the blogging is back.
