Whoever likened the stress of shifting house to the loss of a loved one may have been exaggerating a little, but I’m coming to realise they weren’t that far off the point. One week ago our household was shipped from Wanganui to Auckland. While it is wonderful to be back in the home we bought thirty years ago and swore we’d never sell, life remains a little hectic as we shuffle through boxes, searching, searching searching. We still cannot find half of what we need. Pretty soon it will be time to ask ourselves whether we do actually need those things missing from immediate sight. Probably not. One piece of advice I received today – build a big bonfire on your back lawn and throw all the still-full boxes into the flames. My Scottish heritage will hardly allow that to happen but I think the idea may raise its head again as the days progress.

After weeks of no time for writing work I am so relieved to be snatching an hour here and there to commence some edits for “Wilderness Liaison” and prepare another story for submission. I feel like a drowning person allowed to breath again. Writing is in the blood and can only be denied for short periods, I’ve decided. Don’t allow the stress and busyness of every day life take away the joy of sharing your imagination with the world.