I've been torn in several directions today.  It's been beautifully sunny spring weather, and I would have loved to just lounge around outside, but I really needed at least to make a start on clearing the weeds in the garden to prove that there are actually some flowers in the borders, and then there was this blog to write.  I still had two library books to read that had to be returned this week as well.  Who could really blame me if I sat in the garden and read?  The answer is: no one except me.  After all, proper writers write every day, don't they?
    In the end, I took a scythe to the garden (well, secateurs) while I thought about what I could write for this blog entry, then I roughed it out using good old paper and pencil sitting on the lawn and rewarded myself with an hour or two reading - purely for the sake of research, of course.  As every 'how to write' book says, you can't be a writer unless you're first a reader, and you need to potter and let your mind roam in order to generate ideas.  This means I don't have to feel guilty for 'wagging' the day off from writing.  I've really been working hard on it all day.  Honest.
    If you get a chance to enjoy the fine weather, don't waste it!