In the good old days, when I wrote all of the things, I rarely gave myself any time off and if I did slack, I admonished myself. In theory, I could have closeted myself away today and written until I felt so tired that I couldn't think, and at one point I was very tempted to do that. Instead, this is how today went, and it was excellent therapy for my poor, often broken, head.
First, I slipped off the rocky route of my diet when we went to lunch at the frankly amazing Sawasdee Thai Restaurant in Birkenhead - if you're in the area and I know you, we have to eat there. I allowed myself this slip as it was a healthy lets have a lovely lunch together rather than my usual, lets hide under my desk and consume all of the chocolate.
Then we went to Bidston Hill, which is a five minute and then a ten minute bus ride from our new home on the Wirral. My Bestwick had told me of the windmill on top of a hill, and I, despite living in the Merseyside area for my entire life didn't know of it. He is a get on a bus and see what you can find person. He's turning me into one of those people too. We climbed over rocks and up the not-very-steep hill and sat on a bench that overlooked my magnificent city...
... having temporarily run out of books to read for the British Fantasy Awards (I'm one of the Horror Novel judges) and waiting for more to be delivered, I picked up Stephen Volk's Leytonstone on the way out and the magnificent prose drew me from this awesome view. I've been very lax with reading lately and my to read pile is overflowing and my to buy pile is dragging at my heart. I'm going to break soon and buy all of the things.
We got lost on the way back because this is us and ended up walking through a very nice housing estate that we will never move to because it is very much in the middle of nowhere. Eventually we found our way to a main road and a bus route, which was five minutes walk from the exit, but we managed to turn it into a half-hour walk - we need the exercise.
We're having a barbecue tonight because obviously when you slip from a diet you have to do it in style. It's the first barbecue either of us have done so if you're in the area expect fire engines, scorched plants and soot-faced writers.