I didn’t realise it at the time but I managed to get stung, again! Different toe, different foot.
Our kids were off on scout camp all weekend. It was amazing how much work I managed to get done around the house. I did all their chores as well as my own and then there was hubby to contend with. We decided we’d walk the dog before we went bed-hunting (my bed isn’t lost, we just need a new one). So, during the walk I must have been stung/bitten – something that caused my foot to imperceptibly swell over the course of the day. Now, I am not the sylph-like creature my mind lies and convinces me I am so it took a while to work out that my toes were increasing in girth. It was while I was trying to apply the itch cream (Oh yes, it itched too, just like last weekend) that I realised I couldn’t easily work my finger between my little and penultimate toe. Then it clicked and I immediately went and swallowed an antihistamine! Up until then I’d been foolishly thinking ‘nettle sting’. So, it is Sunday evening and I have one foot which is still slightly swollen and the other is half-way there, halted in its tracks by non-genius detective work.
Added to that I had another couple of rejections. One from the Darley Anderson agency and the other from Susannah Lea & Associates. Bothe extremely polite and urging me not to be disheartened.
It cannot be helped. I am disheartened. I haven’t been able to write all weekend. I have had hours, without the kids, when I could have easily scribbled off three or four chapters but my heart that controls my writing hand and my writing thoughts is weeping silently in a dark corner of my chest. I hear it, when I listen carefully, but as I have no way of consoling it (other than chocolate) I put U2 on, loud, and carry on cleaning the kitchen.
My foot throbs in sympathy.