I’m saying goodbye to my old writing community; after three years it’ll seem strange not to click in there for a chat, but it’s time to move on, for a while. I might return at some point because it feels like home. I’m a bit like a teenager, running off to join the circus – belting out into the world to see what kind of life I can make for myself. More like what kind of trouble I can get myself into! No – I’m too old for trouble.

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Well, I think I’ve battered Chapter One into the right kind of shape. Now I can push through the next four chapters to get to the muddy bit; the bit that hadn’t been written/created before I dived into Nano. This is where I have to take myself in hand and do the Billy Connolly impression – ‘Appreciate Cunningham, appreciate!’ to which I must reply, ‘Sir. Yes sir!’

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Thinking about fairies, my mind springs into a land of lilac and green. My whole bedroom is painted lilac (I was given the paint) and I stuck luminous stars on the ceiling with a crescent moon (was given them too) to bring a little magic into my life. The light shade is pale blue, an upside down cotton, four-sided pyramid with a tassel dangling about breast-height (this was another gift). If I could just get up off my arse and accessorise it would be little-people heaven, with crystals and all sorts of witchy bobbles. Actually, the ceiling is the only part of the room that could be called finished!

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These legs were made for walking, and that’s just what they did. I walked into Alexandria yesterday, and this photograph is the proof that I was on a pavement. It wasn’t so bad, and only took about ten minutes. Of course you know that my first stop was a café, where I rested with my £1.40 latte and mused at the audacity of this extreme exercise. Then I took out the lovely iPod Touch and had a read of The Circular Staircase.

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A belt snapped and off went my Clio to the scrap-yard, to be ripped apart. What health bounds before me on these legs? Shall I walk everywhere or wait for buses? I could stride towards the train; a half-way trip of exercise and relaxation – more reading!

The life of a passenger might not be quite so bad. There, I’ve talked myself into it, a quiet happiness and more money…but then I’d be able to pay my debts so actually less money to me, but a more settled life and future.

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Last year I kept a mundane diary and I’m glad it’s done; it was pretty boring, except for a few exciting bits, like my granddaughter rushed to hospital with Meningitis and a grandson kidnapped by his useless father and taken to live in Birmingham.

So, when my daughter gave me another diary for Christmas I nearly had a fit. It’s okay, it’s not full page days. I’ve taken on the task of filling this book with a poem for each day (or just a scribble in poetic form)…and without further ado, I present to you, the first few days of 2010:

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Oh my God. I’ve just begun the first day of the new decade with an iron in my hand! I haven’t touched an iron in years. What does this mean?

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There was something strange in the sky tonight. A little while ago I went into the kitchen to see if I could see the Blue moon and instead noticed a star really sparkling. The longer I looked at it the longer it became, until it resembled a string of stars, like maybe three or five, going down in a line. Very weird. I opened the window to see properly in case it was the double glazing affecting my eyesight but it was really real. Actually, I’ll just go and see if it’s still there –

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And here we are, in the countdown to a new decade – wonder what they’ll call this one: the tennies? So this is where I promise to be good, better, perfect; to write more, finish a novel, clean the flat, lay the carpets, sit at a desk instead of lounging in bed with the laptop…be more professional. There is a profession that’s conducted in a bed and it’s not writing! Oh but I love this bed, this room and my position in it. I almost got the armchair emptied today – maybe tomorrow, or later tonight.

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Sleep; what is that – a novel I read years ago? Oh, sleeeeep, where you close your eyes and drift off into some other world for seven or eight hours – not in this life I don’t. I would pay fortunes (if I had any) to experience unconsciousness for more than an hour at a time. My friend, Sylvia mentioned on the phone yesterday that there is a version of Nightal (don’t know if I’ve spelled that right) that works like a dream, even on the usually impervious. It’s supposed to be natural drugs: not real serious drugs – I thought drugs were natural. Well anyway, I might try it if she can find out the right colour for me.

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