Bad luck, good luck

'January 8th', I pronounced, 'That's going to be our house removal day.' Little did I know that sub zero temperatures would set in on 17th December and last right through until mid January.

Problems galore and a whole more acute after I slipped over (I know, like name like nature) and injured my back. Agony, agony; lying flat at the top of our driveway with snowflakes falling into my eyes, Delia rushed back to comfort the husband she probably thought was close to something really ... 'Bryan, darling, I love you,' she said. But a short while later when she knew she had merely a (temporarily, hopefully) disabled man on her hands the tune changed fairly dramatically. All kinds of a fool was I, having ignored her warning about that particular stretch of ice. C'est la vie!

Anyway we are now in our new home, all xteen tonnes of our stuff safely installed. Back injury well on the way to curing itself. Wonderful. If only we could drop everything else in favour of my writing activities. Well, you can't have everything, and as I look up the loch instead of down it as before I - we both - know how very lucky we are.

Luck! On Saturday we won a whole £12 on the lottery. Now for a bit more luck. Going with Gabriel's long awaited publication date is February 11th ...

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