What a difference two weeks makes.
I finished half the final edit of Three hoodies Two a couple of weeks ago. I was feeling good (smug?) possibly. Now after doing some other projects for that time I returned to place I left off, but decided to start all over again today. What could go wrong, I thought; I've just edited it. Wrong.
I thought it was fine. I still think it's better than Hoodies One, and that's how it should be, but it was rubbish - or was it?
Is familiarity breeding contempt? Possibly. I wonder just how far I'll go to get it right, or my version of right. Probably until only the title remains. Therefore I've decided to do it one more time, then persuade/bribe someone to read it for me. You all know what family are like: supportive and happy for us to be doing something, right until it comes time to help. Read your book? You must be bonkers.
They don't actually say that of course, but you can hear their minds working. Or is that just me, or my family.
I've decided that I've had enough of living in summer - that's virtual summer that is. So today I'd like to go here. I love the crisp snow the cold air. And there's no one nagging me since, to my knowledge, I'm the only person who actually likes being out in temperatures of minus forty degrees and lower. The coldest I've ever experienced is seventy two degrees below. Positively balmy compared to some of the cold parts of the Antarctic. A place I plan to visit before I shuffle off.