I am considering getting a sort of dictaphone arrangement. So that I can cook and write at the same time. Retreats for you is getting busier - with the result that I spend a lot of time in the kitchen, rustling up culinary delights for our lovely guests. I adore cooking - I find it soothing and fulfilling, and of course I love the warm appreciation that comes from the recipients of home made fish cakes, warm banana bread, sticky toffee pudding and the like. But sometimes, on days when editors are snapping at my heels, and there are rooms to change and guests to look after, I wish that I could accomplish more than one task at a time. And indeed, I quite fancy the idea of twirling around the kitchen, stirring and chopping with gusto, all the while speaking words of quality into a headset comfortably in place.
I imagine that after my first foray into this kind of multitasking, it would come very naturally, and indeed, in the same way that Barbara Cartland dictated her best sellers while reclining on a pink velvet couch, I feel some of my best writing could be done in this way. After all what more natural environment for writing from the heart, than from the heart of the house - the kitchen.
Writing and cooking - my two favourite occupations. How gloriously satisfying to imagine that both could be done simultaneously - smoothly, effortlessly and in perfect tandem.

Oh so ashamed -that, among the many distractions and duties of daily life, my blog has become sadly neglected. It had foundered by the wayside, cast aside and neglected like a mouldering pile of decaying leaves as the richness of autumn slides into the bleakness of winter.
But shame, like guilt is a deeply negative and draining emotion, which serves no good purpose except to sap the individual of energy, sparkle and zest.
No dwelling then, on the misdemeanors of the past. Only gladness that my noble and trusty 12 followers have not seen fit to desert me. Thank heavens - because, lets face it, I need all the followers I can get.
Be all that as it may, what I really want to blog about at the moment is spring. At the risk of sounding deeply twee, it's here. Ok, the mornings are still chill and frosty, and the white stuff is on car windscreens, but it is light at 6.30. And I cannot tell you how that propels me out of bed - and into my running shoes. The Devon countryside is sheer breathtaking beauty in the quiet and still of the morning, lit up by the blaze of the early morning sun, cresting the hills and bathing the fields. Like so many simple things, an early morning run at this time of year, in this kind of weather, is just the best. Full of light and life and hope.
Which of course, is what we all need - at any time of year.