I’m here on the sofa with my baby strapped to my chest, sweat dribbling down my back and heat prickling my skin, jiggling about to keep Audrey asleep and frantically trying to find some thoughts worth recording. Every time I think I have something to say – when I’ve zoned in on something specific – I approach it with outstretched arms… Suddenly all my thoughts get spooked, they scatter like pigeons chased by a child, and the one I wanted disappears in the flapping of a thousand wings.

That’s a rather long-winded way of saying I can’t concentrate.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s