I’m perched on the edge of a ludicrously comfortable double bed, I’ve got broadband, and within a few hours, I’ll have the place to myself. The journey down to Cornwall was problem free- although the preperations did, just for a change, turn me into a jangling mess of nerves. Said goodbye to George, and I’m now going to proceed to miss her like crazy, even though she’s only on the other end of a phone line. I arrived, and Dad proceeded to give me a military-level briefing on the ins and outs, what to do, and what plants to water. It’s a lot of information, and I’m slightly worried that the one truly vital bit of info is the one I’ll end up forgetting– but I guess I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Plenty of hugs and well-wishes have been exchanged, as they’re setting off at 5.30am tomorrow morning, and I’m highly unlikely to be functioning at that point.

The War against the novel begins tomorrow. We will see who is the victor…

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