This week I've been adapting a short story into a monologue to send here. It's the first time I've seriously attempted writing for the theatre (oh, apart from that degree I did which had 'theatre' in the title) so I'm not sure how it will go, but it's been interesting imagining the work being used in a totally different way. It was quite a monolog-y story as it was, so it's felt like a fairly natural process. I saw the call for submission on the BBC Writersroom site, and thought I'd give it a go. Also was a good reminder that the Writersroom is a good resource.
And I've been thinking about time, and the way we attach ourselves to pieces of it. 'This time last week I was...' and so on. If it's 5pm now, on Saturday, I feel more connected to 5pm last Saturday, closer to that than 4pm today. Just thoughts, that's all, and I'm reading The Power Of Now, so time, or not-time, or time-doesn't-exist, are all ideas running around that I'm taking on.
To finish, here we are outside our rented house in the Yorkshire Dales. I'd just set the timer off on my camera and ran across the road and fallen onto Gavin before this was taken. Good times.