Oh my goodness, what a question today’s challenge is.  What do I do if I’m not writing?  I really had to think about that one – which, of course, meant I wasn’t writing at the time.  One answer in the bag.  I think a lot when I’m not writing – though others would call it daydreaming, which probably amounts to the same thing.

I’ve always daydreamed, even as a small child I’d be walking along daydreaming.  One day, I think I was about 5 years old, I walked straight into a tree.  It hurt – I banged my nose and burst out crying.  My mum wasn’t very sympathetic, she told me I should have looked where I was going.  Thanks mum!   It made no difference, I still walk into things, trip over things, fail to see people I know (and therefore fail to say hello).  It gets me into trouble.

What do I daydream about?  Writing, holidays, life in general, the future, the past, family – all the usual things we all daydream about I guess.  I find it therapeutic and calming.  If I’m angry or frustrated about something, feeling anxious or nervous, I take myself off for a walk and a long think.  It always helps.

I also like to bake bread – though I haven’t made any bread for a while as it’s been so cold during the winter months.  Now I don’t eat so much bread my stomach is flatter – win all round there I think.  I also like to cook, though I don’t cook during the week.  I get up very early in the mornings, walk my dog (and think of course), breakfast, shower, make my packed lunch and then go to work (I start early so I can finish earlier).  When I get home in the evening I have a cup of tea, walk the dog again and flop.  By that time it’s usually around 6pm and my hubbie’s cooking the meal – bless him.

If I’m not daydreaming, baking or working, I’m usually reading when I’m not writing.  Reading is my first love – and it’s helped me so much in my own writing.  I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t read – though I do remember the process of learning how to read.  It was a magical moment for me, the day I realised that each word had its own shape and that shape was always the same – it was like the key to a magical world full of endless possibilities.  Because that memory is so powerful I appear to have blocked out any sense of frustration which must have taken place before that one amazing moment.




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