Lack of concentration

Today I have a skittish brain. Do you ever get that? As if my brain cells are like hyperactive children, skipping around the place and giggling, unable to stand still. It makes concentration very difficult, if not impossible, particularly when I’m editing my novel which requires a Quiet, Still Brain. A friend is coming with me to walk Mollie this afternoon so hopefully that will still my head and I can write better when I get back.

Or perhaps it’s the weather, which is enough to make anyone kick up their heels with glee. The sky is a sheer blue, unblemished by any clouds. There’s a slight sea breeze – good for sailing or walking – which makes the water shimmer and dance, like diamonds. A chaffinch is sitting on the fuchsia tree outside, his tail bobbing up and down, as if to say, ‘it’s great out here – come on!’ And on my desk is a vase of sweet peas, their heady scent filling the room with sun drenched summer.

More later