As this time of the year approaches I always suffer from a slight sense of guilt that I’m not out there, enjoying every minute of those long summer days that we’ve looked forward to all through the darkness of winter. There’s so many things I could be doing – gardening, walking, riding my bike – and yet somehow there I am pinned to the sofa by my laptop either working or doing work-shaped things until it’s time to go to bed.
Yesterday evening, however, I had been invited to go and talk to a lovely bookgroup about my book. The only catch was, it was fifteen miles away by bike along narrow winding rolling back roads.
Oh what a hardship.
A terrible hardship.
It didn’t finish until nearly nine, and then it was time to set off again, fortified by cake and a glass (or two – they were small glasses) of wine to the good…
Like I said, a terrible hardship
I didn’t get home till it was nearly dusk.