Right here we are on day eighteen. It's hardly stopped raining all day. The sun hasn't come out like we were told it would do. The River Clun has burst its banks but not by much but I'm 66% the way through my 50,000 words and Julie is a little ahead on 68% and we still have twelve days to go.
It is mad, it is stupid, it's great fun and it's an achievement. I also know that I'm going to get no peace now from a certain quarter because he'll keep reminding me that when I want to make time to write, I do. Lesson learned Simon.
The piccy tonight is just for a laugh. It is of me aged about three after playing in my Nana's coal hole up in Gateshead. And no I'm not telling you how many years ago that was but let's just say it was alot.
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