Stephanie Butland

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Everything is Quite Busy right now. I owe you a blog post; forgive me, but the best I can manage is a Blog List. It comes with love, and the promise of something more considered soon.

Fab stuff:

New book coming together. ‘Lost For Words’ planning. Bookshop visits. Poetry performances. Working with people who are creative and collaborative. Fun things in my diary. Writing. Reading. Lovely long train journeys where I knit and read and watch tv. (Not all at once.) Doing crafty things for Secret Purposes. Working with some fab writers, mentoring and giving feedback on their work. Ongoing patient loveliness of my family and friends.

Not-so-fab stuff: 

Laptop dead (or comatose – Apple Genius CPR is booked for Friday). New book deadline howling into view.  Creeping realisation that the list of Things I Will Do When The Book Is Done is not, as I like to imagine, made up of picnics and hammocks, but rather adding-up-receipts-for-the-tax-return and clearing-inbox type activities. Using my old laptop makes things like cheering up a blogpost with pics of knitting quite tricky. Trying to be pro-active and compassionate in a scary new world without ever being quite sure of what the right thing to do is.

Stuff that’s always there, doesn’t need me to do anything, but is sort of draining: 

Erratic sleep.

My nose is cold all the time. This, apparently, is a hormonal thing. I didn’t have it during the medical menopause but am having it during what may be the Actual Menopause. That, my friends, is why everyone should have two menopauses. It would be terrible if you missed out on a symptom. (Interestingly, the nose is about the only part of the body that I can’t think of a way to keep warm with knitting. I have considered a balaclava, of course, but I think condensation would soon neutralise the benefits. Plus: world climate of fear, etc, makes balaclava-wearing unwise.)

The uncomfortable feeling in the gut brought on by the thought that my book will soon be out in the world without me to protect it. (It already is, a bit. The signs are good, but I still feel as though I’ve accidentally eaten something of a caterpillarish nature.

And here’s how everything is manageable: 51kHlKhZIbL

One thing at a time.

Bullet journal.

Sense of proportion (which has only abandoned me once in the last week, and I now have a firm hold on again)

Remembering that I could be doing all this while finding PE kits and watching Postman Pat be completely incapable of the most basic delivery task, despite that fact that he has a van AND A HELICOPTER.



Looking at my beautiful book cover.