Quiet nights can be rather good for a writer.
It is pretty close to that hallowed time when I collect my hard earned wages from my employer. So at this time of the month the cider drinking has to take a back seat. Either that or I will be living on cans of boiled potatoes until mid July. No going out for me then.
This is good.
I have actually knuckled down and cut a few words. Their is hope for my books after all. I am also re-discovering poetry. I am a bit rusty in that department but I will get there.
I think the discipline of poetry will do me the world of good. I will (hopefully) learn how to use words in a more effective manner. I will also have fun. Maybe one day I may even write something just a little bit 'special.' I have hope.
So the cider jars have been consigned to larder and the pub will have to do without me. Will they stay in business? I will turn over a new leaf. I am back on the wagon and I am going to stay there.
Until pay day.
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