I spend a huge amount of time commuting by bus. I get on the bus at 6.45 every morning and get off it at around 6.30 every evening. I actually don't mind the travel, although it makes for a very long day and I'd rather skip the work bit in between. Some days you get a sunrise that is so beautiful (picture taken through a very grubby bus window - trust me, it was a gorgeous ball of orange flame), the pheasants, deer and rabbits are all out in the fields at the moment doing whatever they do at 6.45 am and life seems pretty much OK. Cheesy I know, and I now have an image of Disney's Bambi in my head! But you know what I mean. I so often find myself bitching and moaning about life that it's nice to appreciate those moments when it makes you smile.
I have made a pact with myself that I will do at least one hour's writing every weekend and I'm pleased to say that I managed more than that on Sunday. I started work on a children's novel that has been lying dormant for almost four years now. I had a whole two sides of A4 typed up before I abandoned it but it's been nagging at me to be written and I need to get it out of my head.
So, all in all, I haven't been doing too badly with my fortieth year plans. My tattoo is now four weeks old so I can start swimming (that's one I'm really going to have to push myself hard on). I'm writing again. I have plans to swap my bike, a mountain bike that I don't get on with at all, for a second hand town bike, which I hope to use around the very hilly town I live in. I figure I can work up some enthusiasm for a bike ride that has a country pub and a long cold pint in the middle of it!
That's how things stand on April Fools' Day. It's not a plan that's going to set the set the world on fire but it's mine and it's progressing.
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