I’m not a follower of the crowd. Never have been. I do what I like without fear of fashion or trend.
I gravitate toward what sings to me. Whether or not it’s popular in the mainstream matters little to me. It’s all about what sets up a harmony with my heart and soul.
Sounds heavy you think?
Not really. It’s a kind a silent singing, or something that pulls you toward it.
Another Saturday, time flies!
We had to spend time in the city this week and so had three days messing about in the Matchbox garden. We trimmed the hedge that separates our townhouse from the row behind. It’s about 3 metres high and 25 metres long – made of awful shrubs that grow in weed proportions here. Things like the Cotoneaster Glaucophyllis and the New Zealand Mirror Bush which seed horrendously and choke our native species in the wild and our own gardens.
This is probably a ‘dangerously close to being rejected post’ because it’s a late submit. I daresay all the northerners are safely tucked in bed, sleeping the night away.
Today my latest trilogy is finally in print!
But before we get to that, grab a cup of tea or coffee and read on…
For those of you in the northern hemisphere, you begin the long trek through winter, something that always looks so beautiful from where we sit in the south. Snow bedecked trees, elegant forms traced in frost in the gardens. Iced lakes, rivers and ponds, toboggans and snowmen. The romance of a white winter.
Here of course, it’s vastly different.
Yes – it’s countdown to Christmas Day.
This is how it works for me.
A couple of weeks ago, I was asked the question ‘What is the power of fiction?’
My response was immediate.
‘Absolutely tremendous,’ I said.
‘But how?’ I was asked.