Hello, I'm in Scotland and my toes are cold.
On the train I wrote nine new Dexter Bexley books, but few of them have middles or ends. Some do though, so that is a positive step. Get ready for the boxed set. As well as that I drew many many lines around paragraphs in Stanley Book two that mean 'this is disastrous, do something about it.'
Also on the train I was trapped on a table with the publishers of Practical Parenting magazine, so I now know all sorts of amazing secrets about them. You need only ask.
My father and I are making a really (really) awful row here because I bought him the Cello that he has wanted since he was fourteen for his birthday (I had to carry it two miles to Kings Cross on thursday because my bus was horrid and trapped in traffic). I have my fiddle with me and we are about equally as bad on each.
It is fun for us, but the cat may yet expire.
Tomorrow night is a big birthday party.
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