Another morning of sunshine, clouds and showers like yesterday. Clare cooked pancakes for breakfast. The blackberry puree tasted delicious with them. We walked to Llandaff weir before lunch and got rained upon (no mac) while picking blackberries on the way back, the same weight as yesterday. This time they will be be stewed with some cooking apples and filtered through a muslin bag to give a clear blackberry jelly. Wonderful!
I walked again in Pontcanna Fields after lunch, trying to clear my head. I woke up thinking about how to complete the novel I began writing last year when we were staying in Oxwich. It's now over seventy four thousand words long. I've written very little of it since February, just a chapter in lock-down Ibiza and another since returning. There's been so much else going on in life, I've had no space in which to let that particular creative process flow. Now, I think I have the space but unsure of the state of my head will let me.
After supper, I wrote for an hour and a half, and was able to move the story on a step more towards its conclusion. I think. Only when it's completed will I be in a good position to re-read, correct and edit. If I tried to do this en passant it would be even harder to conclude the story. I was relieved to feel no worse after making the effort to write something other than this daily chronicle of my life.
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