Monday 29 April 2024

The Beautiful Build-Up...

A family photo - nine adults and three children huddled together on a beach. It's windy, their hair is blowing, and everyone has long sleeves. Despite the seeming cold, everyone is grinning and looking happy.
Same people, same place, 
same weekend. 2023.
Exciting times ahead! The annual family caravan shebang is mere days away. Twelve people, three caravans, and a boot full of Prosecco. It's the same every year so I know how this goes. I know that the anticipation of the event is always better than the actual weekend away. I LOVE the build up. All week I'm going to be giddy and excited. I'm going to buzz off making lists. I'm going to pack the car whole days before I need to. I'll be looking up the route on Google maps even though my sat-nav will be doing all the work. I'll plan all the evening beach walks and sunset backdrops in my head. 

An orange sunset in a sky - the sun is setting in the centre of the picture. It's an empty beach, with a wooden jetty leading down to the sand. The tide is out and the water is glistening under the sun. It looks beautiful.
Taken at a previous
Bond weekend in
Wales. It doesn't
 *always* rain.
The reality, as I know from many years' experience, will be different. It'll rain, I'll have a bad back from three nights away from my super-king Hypnos, and on more than one occasion I'll remember why Teenage Me was desperate to leave home. But still... I'm genuinely excited. It's one of my favourite times of the year, and even though I know I should manage my expectations, I'm fizzing with giddy anticipation. Let's be honest, it's not a bad way to feel for a week.

The logo of Eurovision (a heart with a flat inside - in this case it's the UK flag) is displayed with Eurovisio written around it. (The heart takes the place of the V.) Underneath that, it says 'Song Contest Malmo 2024. Then the UK entry, Olly Alexander slides into view.
Return next week
for INSIGHTS.

Writing News
This blog is my regular writing shift now. While the book is in its pre-order stage (and until I start the next novel) my only creative output is Writer's Ramblings. That usually takes three hours a week. In fact the writing takes less than an hour. It's the GIF-finding and link-searching that takes the time. But basically, it's no major effort. Not this week, though. This week it's been full on. Because of being caravan-bound in a few days, I won't have time to write Monday's blog. No biggie - I wrote it last week. As it's going to be May's Long Ramble - the monthly post where I riff on one topic and give the Update format a week off - it can be easily written before time. But... but... but next week is the big one. It's EUROVISION. 

Yep, it's that time of again. Can it really be a whole twelve months since Liverpool? Ah, happy happy times. But back to my point. Every year I provide some thoughts about the contest ahead for the reading public. For that, a shit-tonne of research has to take place. Over the past few days I've written the introductory paragraph about how I haven't listened to any of the songs, I've listened to the songs, and then I've written about my favourite entries. It's taken a lot of time. This week, purely so you get my Eurovision opinions next Monday, I've been a busy bee.

Jack Nicholson in full army uniform with a chest full of medal, is sitting in a court room in the dock. His expression looks pissed off and furious.
It's only be a matter of time
before I watch Colonel
Nathan Jessep
lose it again.
Culture
Did you know that the film Speed is thirty years old? Mad, innit. On Tuesday I watched it at the cinema in a special anniversary showing. It was a hoot. Full of machismo and overblown action sequences with a boyish Keanu Reeves. What's not to love? Then, further to last week and my current obsession with a certain ongoing courtroom drama, I've been hammering the John Grisham adaptations. So far I've done The Firm, The Pelican Brief, and - as last week's blog foreshadowed - Runaway Jury. All good legal fun.

A small black bowl filled with a pale orange mush, with brown flecks. It looks frosty/icy like granita.
Food and Drink
This is as simple as it gets. Peel and segment a bag of seedless tangerines. Freeze them. Whizz them up in a mixer with some dark chocolate and voila! You've got a orange-chocolate sorbet thingamajig. Fit as, and full of vitamin C. I was sceptical but it's delish!

Out and About
I got a hair cut and a mani, I did a station pick up and a hospital drop off. It's been a week of jobs! But no matter. In just a few days time, I'll be chilling/chilly by the sea. And relaaaaxxxxx.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday 22 April 2024

Gene Hackman was my Teacher...

A young woman is talking to a man (we can only see his back.) Her caption says, 'I can't even get selected for jury duty - and you know how good I am at judging and punishing people.'
Have you ever watched the film, Runaway Jury? John Cusack and Rachel Weisz getting their revenge on a tragic, historical injustice via the US judicial process? I have. And it's because of that film, that I know EVERYTHING about US jury selection. Honest to God. Known to us legal experts as voir dire, it's the process where the defence, prosecution, and judge whittle out potential jurors they feel may have bias that could result in an unfair trial. Gene Hackman taught me everything I know. (He also features in the film, if that wasn't clear.) Imagine then, my giddy glee. Last week, the ex-president's hush money trial kicked off in New York and social media was there for it. The press pool, seated in a separate room and viewing the proceedings on screens, kept the world abreast with rolling coverage of the voir dire process. It made for compelling reading. Honestly, it was properly fascinating and it prompted the question in my house - and I'm guessing all over the land - could you be a fair and impartial juror in this case? Well, could you?

A gif from The Simpsons. There is a jury - all illustrated as The Simpsons are - and the foreperson stands up and says, 'Verdict? Is the what we were supposed to do?'
Whether you could or not makes no difference. At the time of writing, there's a jury and six alternates in place. The trial proper will be starting today. Despite this, the defendant has made many statements about how he shouldn't be on trial now. And you know what? I agree. With so much to do with my book release, I don't have time to be glued to my phone for hours every day. It's such bad timing for me. I will, however, do my best to squeeze it in. Because whatever happens, this trial is going down in history. I want to be there when it does.

Writing News
Things are ticking along nicely. There's a slew of admin to do, and social media is taking up lots more time than it usually does, but it's all part of the process. (Did you read last week? I wrote about The Process!) Look, the data doesn't lie. When you put more effort into social media, you get more engagement back. It's science. As well as that, over the past couple of months, the reader numbers of this blog have shot up. Thank you to everyone that reads, clicks, like, shares, or comments. It's so nice to connect. 

Christopher Plummer as Captain Von Trap in the Sound of Music. He's sitting with a guitar and he smiles and giggles a little.
Christopher Plummer
brought me up so it
was SO good to see
him in Inside Man.
Culture
I've just finished Gillian McAllister's novel, Wrong Time, Wrong Place. It was one of those grippy thrillers that you don't want to put down. That was my Thursday. I also watched Inside Man - a 2006 bank heist thriller with Denzel Washington. More grippiness to keep me interested. Then at the weekend I watched The Assembly. A panel of people - who are autistic, neurodivergant and learning disabled - question Michael Sheen about... well anything and everything. It's such good television and cuts through the usual chat show fluff'n'flattery that we're used to seeing. It's on the iPlayer, it's half an hour long, and it's well worth your time.

A small blue tuppaware tub, with a buttery looking substance with brown flecks stored in it.
Smoosh up a tin/jar
of anchovies, some
buttery spread
of your choice, 
garlic, lemon zest,
za'atar, and paprika.
Voila!
Food and Drink
It'd be remiss if I didn't talk about anchovies. No, really, it's a conversation we need to have. Over the last month or so, I've become anchovy-obsessed. It started when a friend siting opposite me, picked them out of her caesar salad. I added them to my own food (prawn bruschetta, if memory serves) and oooommmpppph! The taste was ramped up to eleven. Now I'm adding them to everything I make and keeping a steady stream of anchovy butter in the fridge. In other food related news, I recently had my first Pot Noodle. I know! Back in the day, my main budget student-food option were the 11p noodles from the Sainsburys at Sixfields. (Some local Northampton colour for you there.) Pot Noodles were pricy in comparison and I've managed to give them a swerve all this time. But then my neph and niece got wind of this. They gifted me a Bombay Bad Boy for my birthday and I could swerve it no more. I am happy to report that my first Pot Noodle experience was... pleasant and spicy.

Me, grinning at the camera, holding a steaming full pot noodle, with a napkin tucked into my top.
Robin Beck's First Time
was playing through my
head as this was taken,
Out and About
I went to see the Amy Winehouse film. It's been a while since I've gone to a non-Odeon cinema, and oooh, haven't I been spoilt with their seats. Despite sitting in a perfectly good, yet upright seat, I enjoyed the film well enough. On Monday, I also spent a happy hour looking for new glasses in Specsavers. It's not a vibrant social life but it's better than nothing.

The main messaging from today seems to be that anchovies are amazing, and if you haven't already, watch Runaway Jury. Sometimes I have wisdom to impart, other times, not so much. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday 15 April 2024

The Highs and Lows of Cycling...

The life cycle? The lunar cycle? The menstrual cycle? Isn't the world just a series of repeated cycles? Hey Scientists! Ponder that, why don't you. 

But before all that, let's cycle back for a moment - intentional pun! I once wrote a post that went viral. A bit viral anyway. It got shared on a writing website so its reach was wider than my usual bubble. The topic? The editing process. It was split into three parts. The early stage, where you're chipper and up for the challenge. The middle stage, where your manuscript is a depressing quagmire of a million problems. Then the final stage when the story's emerged and you're tidying and polishing. If you want to remind yourself of it in all its glory, knock yourself out here

A woman sits on a sofa with an open laptop on her knee. It flicks to her in a variety of positions - lying on her back with her laptop on her thighs, sitting on the floor with the laptop in front of her leaning back on the sofa, sitting on the arm of the sofa thing to write that way. It gives the impression of someone trying to write and struggling to get into a flow.
Chatting to a writing friend this week got me thinking. Forget the editing process. The writing process cycles through a set of similarly turbulent stages. Each one a necessary part of proceedings; never changing, reducing, or simplifying with each new book. At least that's how I find it. For me, it takes two years to go from initial idea to book publication. But that two years? Like my menstrual cycle, it's a roller coaster. As I near the end of my current novel's journey (pre-order today, out in May!) let me guide you through the twists and turns of my indie-writing process.

1. Become Germ-Ridden!
You get a germ of a idea. A vague bit of plot that's popped into your head, or a character you'd like to spend time with starts pinging about in your brain. The germ won't go away. In fact, it's growing. At some point, to calm things down, you open a Word Doc or a notepad, and type/scrawl down some ideas. It's pure and uninhibited. No one else cares. You only started to care yourself three minutes ago. You make notes, you walk away. You think again about the germ and add some more. Eventually, the initial idea has shaped itself into pages and pages of typing/scribble/nonsense. It's an incoherent mess but it's something. It's a start and you're hooked.

2. Plan Your Ass Off! 
By spending time organising your madly scribbled notes into coherence, the shape of the story shows itself. The first shape, anyway. It'll change - many times - before the cycle is complete. But in the cold, calm light of day, and with lots more crossings out and/or deletions, you have a chapter breakdown. The plot is paced out and the characters are created. There's a build up to the drama/conflict/emotional crux and then there's the come down/resolution/redemption. There's a shape and a flow despite it only existing in bullet points or brief chapter descriptions. It's all so bloody exciting.

3. Flesh It Out!
It's time to flesh out your chapter synopses. Which details need work? What research is needed? Do you know every characters? Is the setting clear in your mind? If a plot point is introduced in chapter three, does it have a resolution later in the plan? Each chapter's plan now fills a couple of pages in a notebook. Snatches of dialogue or description start to appear. You note them down in the appropriate place. This sparks off another bit of description which gets added to another appropriate place. Ideas are buzzing all over the show and you're desperate to start writing.

4. And Begin!
You're ecstatic you can finally being to type/write. Chapter One. Once upon a time... or something like that. Actually the first sentence is never easy. I use a placeholder so I don't spend three days working out how to begin and then lose all that lovely momentum. So, 'One day there was a woman called Nicky,' is an entirely acceptable opening sentence for your first draft. Type it and then move on to your story. 

An animated cartoon girl, sitting at a desk and typing away in deep concentration, with the word 'WRITE" animated in the background and dancing around.
5. All Guns Blazing!
You're on fire! Using your planning notebook as a guide, you're churning out the chapters with the gayest of all abandon. It's utterly shite but it matters not a jot! You're crossing off plot points, introducing characters, and forcing out the story from your head and notebook onto a real life manuscript. It doesn't read well, but it reads. It's a thing. You're writing a thing. Draft one is now complete!

6. My Personal Hell!
Editing. If you clicked the link to my old post at the top, you'll already have the gist. This is my worst part. Not that it isn't ultimately satisfying. It's just that it takes so long to get to that point. You see, first you have to wade through a bajillion tonnes of self-doubt. But the good news is, that this is the stage where the magic happens. It's a cliche (no really, I can't believe I'm about to type these words) but imagine a block of marble. A sculptor will chisel and tap and whittle away (can you tell I've never sculpted?) and for ages it'll look like a misshapen lump of posh stone. But then... eventually... finally... it'll be... Michelangelo's David! Yes, that's what we're aiming for. That waffly, over-written, meandering pile of nonsense that you've worked on forever, will have its rough edges smoothed and become a classic piece of art for the ages. The beauty, messaging, and clarity will come through. It just won't be evident until the very end of the scultping/editing process. You have to believe. You just have to belief you're the absolute expert of your story/lump of stone and one day it'll be something stunning.

7. Gulp. Readers!
Deep breaths... and SEND. Yes, you've got to show people your bestest draft. By now, you've forgotten how to be excited about it. It's been in front of your eyes for so long, you can no longer tell when something's working or not. But other people can! Send it to those you know will be respectful and honest. That's what the early readers need to be. Don't send it to people you dislike or whose opinions you don't rate. You won't listen to them. But those people you DO trust - whether it be family members, in-laws, friends, colleagues, neighbours, or eventually and ideally, a professional editor - their feedback is gold. Consider what they say. Mull over their points. Change the ones that ring true for you. Make it the best you can. Read it, read it again, and repeat that process 24557 times. Read it aloud, read it printed out, read it in a different font, read it with a ruler under each line. Check every tiny bloody thing and check it again. At some point you will have to decide you've got your final draft.

8. Bloody Admin!
It's all a bit techy for the next stage. And for me, that means boring and difficult. You'll need to typeset your draft so it looks like the pages of a book. You'll need to format your final draft of that typeset document to be compatible with the publishing platform you're going to use. You'll need to upload the metadata onto that platform, as well as registering the book title on various sites (Neilsen and ALCS for eg) and you'll need to select the book classification categories that your story sits within. This stage can take a while for someone like me. I'm happiest when I get to type lovely words every day, and not when I'm expected to be technically precise in a variety of formats. Oh and also, the front cover needs doing!

9. Work it, Girl!
Sell yourself! Spread the word! Tell everyone you know! Use a range of social media, print flyers, get postcards made, pay for Facebook ads or just get talking to anyone you pass in the street. No one will know about your book unless you tell them. So tell them. Even though it's proper cringe, tell them. If you haven't already guessed, I find this stage excruciating. And if you also hadn't already guessed, this is the exact stage I'm at now. For the next month at least. 

10. We Have Lift Off!
And it's OUT! Publication day has arrived. Friends and family have told you they've pre-ordered it, which is lovely. You hope other people have too, and tomorrow you'll worry about that and assume you're a shit writer if no one has. But for one glorious day, you feel invincible. You're on top of the world. Like you've scaled the highest of peaks. It's amazing. Life is wonderful. You've only gone and written a frigging book! You celebrate, you hug yourself with glee, and then you sleep the sleep of the deeply satisfied.

11. And We've Landed!
What comes up, must come down. We all know this, right? But oh, that bumpy landing! It's no fun. We're back to self-doubt folks. What if no one reviews your book? What if you only get one star reviews? What if people tell you it was crap and that you've wasted the past two years of your life? What if you can never show your face in public again? WHAT IF? WHAT IF? WHAT IF? The good news is, this stage will pass. Ignore the voices, ride it out, it WILL pass. And at some point, you'll have stopped lying down in a dark room long enough to find yourself having the germ of a new idea. And just like that, you're back. Stage One beckons. Ready to saddle up that horse again? Course you are! There are stories to be told and books to be ridden. Giddy up horsey and off you go!

Drew Barrymore is talking. The caption reads, 'Addicted to the process.'
I'm not sure how this post read to you, but by typing out those stages - the ones I've been cycling through since 2013 - has left me in a cold sweat. I guess like anything in life, the best thing is to enjoy the good parts and recognise that the bad parts are transient. And even though I'm in Stage Nine, and it's - as I clearly state above - proper cringe, being on the home straight is exciting. Having the germ of my next book is exciting too. Just as with life, the moon, and periods, the good times will always be cycling around, while the tricker times will eventually be on their merry way. Happy writing to those of us that tackle this maddest of cycles. Isn't it an absolute trip?!

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday 8 April 2024

Soz to the Envelope Buyers of Speke...

Marilyn Monroe at an awards ceremony. SHe's at the podium in a posh, black, off the shoulder dress, and the caption says, 'The envelope please.' Then someone off the camera, hands her an envelope.
Me, repeatedly, in WH Smiths.
I
f, last week, you'd been on the search for a medium sized Jiffy bag in Speke WH Smiths, I'm sorry to say you'd have had a wasted trip. Damn book tours! I cleared the shelves of all their mid-sized padded envelopes on Thursday as I prepared to send out copies of the new book to the reviewers who had signed up. 

I quite like having to complete a list of admin tasks. As well as emptying envelope shelves, I spent the weekend filling out address labels and writing thank you notes. It's nice to have a clear list that can be decisively ticked off. Sometimes my To Do list says things like 'beef up the end of Chapter 2' or 'fix what's wrong with the opening paragraph.' These are far less tangible than addressing envelopes and visiting the post office. I'm not sure 'admin' as a job in itself would work for me forever. I mean, that's what teaching was in the end. No, I like that lots of the time, I have to use my creative brain. But as a change, every so often, the clarity of a completable task is lovely.

An image from Love Books Tours that has the front cover of Leeza McAuliffe Has Loads More To Say in the centre, and then has all the handles of book reviewers around the sides.
Writing News
Well it's all systems go for the Love Books Tours book tour. It starts in May and I imagine I'll be sharing all about it online when the time comes. Other than that, and the admin involved, it's been a quiet week. I'm still promoting myself where I can, uploading info about the new book on the sites that require it, and banging on about Leeza McAuliffe to anyone that asks. Standard. 

A partially done jigsaw. The sides are all in place, and some of the left hand side of the picture is done too. In the centre, is the picture that is being completed. It's a street map of Liverpool City Centre.
Proper solid
Culture News
I'm sure I've asked this question before, but can jigsaws be classed as culture? If so, I was riddled with culture last week. I got a map of Liverpool jigsaw for my birthday (thanks Dom, and happy birthday for today!) It's proper solid. The map's like an A-Z... properly detailed with every street shown, covering the centre of town, with the corners reaching out to Kirkdale, West Derby, Childwall, and the edge of Birkenhead. I like normal jigsaws but I LOVE map jigsaws. WITH ALL MY HEART. They're so satisfying. Being able to use previously held geographical knowledge whilst learning more about a place, is fab. And there's something about poring over the pieces of a map that really clears my mind. Some people relax with whale music or a massage. I choose a crick in my neck and the close up street plan of Old Swan. It takes all sorts! In more standard Culture News, I watched Anatomy of a Fall over the weekend and thought it was exceptional. 

A garden table with chairs either side of it. On the table is a bottle of wine in a makeshift icebucket (a pyrex jug with ice cubes) a platter of bread sticks, a bowl of green dip (pesto) and a glass of wine.
A full on meal
Food and Drink
The plan was to have a small aperitif/amuse bouche/pre-starter of grissini and pesto before the main Saturday night food. The trouble was, I got carried away whilst rolling out the breadsticks and made about a hundred and fifty. Cue later that evening - I hoovered up a substantial amount of pre-meal food and didn't feel like the actual meal that was cooking. No matter! It got pushed to the next day and my lovely evening of salty, cheesy bread sticks with lemony, basily pesto was fab. Recipes for the grissini and the pesto via the links.

Out and About
I caught up with a teacher mate, I had a mani, and I attended my usual Wednesday brunch. Thursday Costa got ditched due to traffic and period pain, but I walked to the pub on Friday night. A mixed bag of a week, as usual.

Hey there regular readers *sidles up and behaves weirdly.* I'm sure you're doing this already, but if you wanted to be absolute loves, could you tell everyone you know about Leeza McAuliffe? OK, maybe not everyone. Only those who might enjoy it. Those who might be on the lookout for an absorbing, gripping, funny, poignant, nostalgia-riddled story about being young and working out the world as its presented to you. Only those people, yeah? Thanks so much! Word of mouth is just as effective as me banging on about it online, so every little would definitely help. Thank you SO much in advance. Now, whatever you do...

...have a lovely week, folks.


Monday 1 April 2024

New Terms and Temple Bods...

Joe Biden, talking to someone off camera, saying, 'We've turned the page.'
We really have, Joe.
No more cake for breakfast. 
You can take the girl out of teaching but you can't take the teaching out of the girl. Or something. OFSTED nightmares aside, I rarely think about my previous life. Except for one thing. My body clock remains automatically attuned to term times. We've just had Easter. Like September and January, there feels a natural renewal to this week. And you know what? It can't come soon enough. What with birthday shenanigans and the weekend eggs, there's been lots of chocolate and cake knocking about. I feel sluggish. I feel like it's the 29th December, I've got a fridge of cheese and zero inclination to chop a vegetable. 

Two dumbbells, sitting on a bench. They're a turquoise blue and say 5kg on the end of each one.
That stops now. From today, I'm treating my body like a temple. (Cue the Victoria Wood line - 'I say temple, I could just as easily have said garden centre... they're very popular of a Sunday, aren't they?') When I say temple, I mean I'm going to cook gorgeous lovely tasty food that's not chocolate or cake based. I'm also going to start doing my weights again. A year ago I was jiggling about three times a week with 5kg dumbbells. It's been a few months since I paused (because of a pulled muscle) and I never went back. I imagine I'll be back to basics with 3kgers but who cares? It's a new term and a new start. Exciting times ahead.

Two books, side by side, propped up on a desk with a window in the background. The book on the left is called Leeza McAuliffe Has Something To Say. The book on the right is called Leeza McAuliffe Has Loads More To Say. Both books are by me, Nicky Bond.
Writing News
As you know, the new book is available from 23.5.24 (pre-order your copy today!) As part of its marketing, I've got an online book tour starting after the release date. That's where bloggers and reviewers post their thoughts on social media. But there's more! Because this is Book Two of a series, I've also got a mini book tour starting before that, for Book One. That's pretty exciting. Unless you're mega famous, the hubbub of a new book dies down pretty quickly. It's all about the build-up. Pre-orders are key and any fuss tends to peak around the week of publication. That's why having a bit of attention directed at a book that came out in 2019 is marvellous. Any new reviews will help the algorithm gods do their thing and draw a bit of attention my way. That can only be a good thing.

James Acaster, looks at the camera, pulls a face that shows a picture of confusion and amusement, and then looks away. He's wearing a white t shirt with what looks like an illustrated loaf of bread with legs on it.
James Acaster. I'll
watch anything he's in
.
Culture
I recently got to see the touring production of My Beautiful Laundrette. It was funny, powerful, and - despite being written in the 80s - depressingly prescient for a modern day audience. What was lovely is that the actor who played Omar in the 1985 film, was the guy playing Omar's dad in the play. How we've all grown up! In film news, despite my misgivings, I found myself booking a ticket for the new Ghostbusters movie. I wasn't arsed about the last one, and I'm still cross with how the online broflakes moaned about the 2016 version and got the intended sequel canned. But then I heard that James Acaster was in the new film. That got me booking a ticket lickety split. He's one of my favourite comedians and I can confirm his presence makes what would be an OK film, better than OK. Finally, I got Armistead Maupin's new book, Mona of the Manor. He's been one of my favourite authors since I found him in the nineties. The fact he's picked up his Tales of the City series once again, is thrilling. So far, I'm looking at the cover and stroking it a lot. I'm too busy to curl up for the day. Once I start it, I'm all in. For now, staring longingly as it sits on my coffee table will have to suffice.

A bowl of soup. It's reddy-brown in colour, with bits of green, and red veg floating around.
Mmmmm
Food and Drink
Talking of gorgeous, lovely, tasty food, here's something that ticks all those boxes. And it's healthy too. This recipe for hot and sour soup has been my go to for years. It's full of punchy flavours and all the good things. It's also easily adaptable. In my meat-eating days, I'd fill it with chicken. Now I stick to mini shrimp and tofu. Of course, when I made this over the weekend, I ate it with a packet of prawn crackers. There's no rush to clean living. It's a process.

Me, facing the camera, and raising a coupe glass of prosecco. I'm smiling, wearing a blue hoody, and have green sparkly nail varnish.
Out and About
There's not much space for fun times right now. I say that, but I've seen all my nieces and nephs recently - school holidays will do that - and I've got catch-ups booked in with some old teacher friends. In a bid to be out of the house on Saturday night, I BBQed some salmon and sat outside for as long as I could stand. I can't lie, the chilly temperatures and forced fun vibes gave me triggering flashbacks to lockdown. No matter, I was out and about! And that's what this section is all about.

Happy April, gang! Because I'm a grown woman who abhors pranks, there's no mention of April Fools Day here. There're no spaghetti trees or fake news items to kid you for April 1st fun. Or ARE there?*

Have a lovely week, folks.

*There really aren't. Pranks are silly. Grow up.