I don't think I'm aware of the wall looming ahead of me and trying to gee myself up to leap over it. It seems more as if too much excitement on my part brings about the wall.
My wordcount is still hovering around the 90,000 mark and all the excitement and enthusiasm in the world hasn't shifted it yet. Mind you, I've had both boys at home with end-of-term sickbugs and tummyaches - not to mention all the swimming galas, playdates and sports days that the end of the school year always brings.
It's really hard to keep my mind on a love story set in 1827 when my nine year old is complaining (from his sickbed on the sofa) that the Wii has frozen in the middle of his game of Super Smash Brothers - and my six year old is demanding that I make him a magic wand to take to school for tomorrow's Magic and Fantasy topic because "Everyone else is bringing one in."
("Oh, and can you make me one that really lights up?)
There are lots of lovely reds and pinks in the garden at the moment. I remember buying these little red geraniums during the mini-heatwave we had in March. (I remember it because that was when I was forty - aaargh!) Lots of other people had mistaken the freakish heatwave for the onset of summer and were also buying geraniums, lobelia, fuschias and so on. And it was stressing out the woman who was working in the garden centre.
'You can't plant these yet,' she said, fixing me with one of those glacial, billion-yard stares.
'No, absolutely not,' I lied.
'I mean it - YOU'LL LOSE THEM!' she said (for probably the twentieth time that day.)
'No, I've no intention of taking them home and planting them,' I said, grinning all over my lying face.
We both knew I was going to go straight home and plant them.
And when the buds and leaf-tips went a bit brown and withered-looking in the ensuing frost, I thought, 'Perhaps I'll go back to that angry garden centre woman and complain about this...'
However, both plants went into hibernation for three months...then burst into summery delightfulness this week. In your face - angry garden centre woman!
I also have this slightly-weird new project to work on over the summer....
A little house was donated to the local pre-school as a prize for their Summer Fair, but one of the mums decided it was a bit too tatty and asked me to repaint and tidy it up a bit in time for the Christmas fair instead.
So I'm fighting the urge to look into Farrow and Ball paint charts...Designers Guild fabrics...tiny embroidered eiderdowns...miniature parquet floors...no, no, no! We all know that grown women who play with dolls houses are a little bit creepy...I won't give in!
Just a couple of coats of paint. Then I'll glue on all the bits my six year old son has already broken off it...
I'll post an 'After' photo when I've finished. Assuming I manage to rescue it from the clutches of the six year old, who has asked me to buy it from the pre-school.
'No!' I told him firmly. 'No dolls houses - You. Are. A. Boy!'
And off he went to play with his singing Ariel doll and his Sparkle-hair Rapunzel.