I took over the decorating and detail work (and I know that the job will never be finished because you can never have enough hand-stitched quilts and soft furnishings for you tiny houses can you.?).Īnyway, back to the idea of common threads: So I walked down to the hobby shop because I needed balsa wood to make the tiny window flower boxes. Finn (my big boy of 13 years old) built his own one alongside his dad. Well actually, it's not for dolls, but for tiny rabbit families (the Sylvian Collection) which my children are enchanted with. I have spent the holidays working on building yet another dolls house for my children. I was just at the Hobby Shop on the corner (6 houses down from my house). If we listen closely enough there are things connecting us all the time. I love conversations and watching how threads weave in and out. Yes, with the syringa blossoms soaking the air, spring has breathed new inspiration.

The crafting of the work and the joy of that - as much as sewing a quilt or building a model dolls house. The difference this year is that I will write for the satisfaction and not for the end result of publishing and being in print. Hmmmm ideas are fluttering and rising up again. In addition I woke up this morning and thought that maybe I might start on another book (short/long/divergent/whatever). I have been considering a Masters degree in the next year in the realm of children's texts. Yes I know that no publisher has printed my work.that's all about finances and politics.many have shown interest, but I just got tired of 'pimping' my work. Writing for self in diaries and journals, being passionate about getting children to write, writing poetry and getting children to write poetry.the children's book which sat brewing in my head and heart for so many years which finally came to light. To be honest writing has been in my soul since as far back as I can remember. Sooooo - with almost 6 months break in writing and the thrill of the Amazon Breakthrough contest a thing of the past I have ambled along and thought long and hard about writing.

Hans Christian Andersen by Rumer Godden