Where the b****y hell are you?

*Title of post based on an iconic Australian tourism ad.*

Have you noticed I haven’t been round for a few days?  You’re supposed to chorus with relieved tones: ‘Yes, where the b****y hell’ve you been?’

Where indeed?

Recently my OH was rushed to surgery with an exploding appendix. Whereas I can normally multi-task pretty well, accomplishing an eclectic amount in any one day, my mind began to focus on one thing alone. That was beloved OH who developed sepsis and was quite ill. He’s fine now of course, and almost back into the thick of things. Not so much the heavy farm stuff, more the cerebral stuff… but recouped anyway.

So I find I can concentrate on writing again, to work at doing what I want to do.

These last few days I’ve accomplished (I hope) the line-edit that was required on Glass Flowers. It was then sent by email to a highly respected fantasy author in the USA, another much regarded commentator on fantasy in the UK and to a much regarded fantasy writer in Australia. All with the hope of securing a wonderful strap-line for the cover for when the book is released for Kindle and for print publication. Nervous about the comment? Yes. Hopeful? Indubitably. Confident? Never.

The other thing that has seduced me away from the blog, Twitter, Facebook, forums and all, is embroidery. Whenever I’m under duress, I retreat to my silks and threads and have often been known to sit by the beds of family in hospital or at home, stitching away (please don’t call me Madame Defarge) and have amazingly and unconsciously produced some okay work. So whilst OH was ill I found solace with thread. All made even better and so much easier by the arrival of super-duper magnifying specs.

Every evening now, when I should be chatting away to the northern hemisphere, maybe selling a title or two, I’m surrounded by silken thread on the couch. My book sales are dropping but I am so thrilled with what is growing each evening. Two nights ago I finished the body of a thistle and its bud. The night before that, a fennel seedhead. Last night, a silver thread spider-web with attendant crystalline dewdrop. In the centre of the web is a tiny black money spider with an iridescent stripe down its back. Three beaded blackberries sit on the vine as well. This morning I jumped out of bed and picked the colours for the turkey knot thistle heads and for the creation of cranberries and a dandelion seedhead. As I’ve mentioned in the past, this whole creation becomes a copy of a medieval floral design that surrounds a seventeenth century stumpwork mirror-frame.

But the manuscript has been sent, the story beyond my care now and in other’s hands until the pre-publication date approaches. Now, with OH well and my mind freed up, I can return to Gisborne, giving he and Ysabel the attention they crave… but maybe with a stitch or two along the way.