See those lovely glass doors? Those lovely glass doors through which my three lovely children can still SEE me when I sit down to write? Well, I hate them. Even though I have explained to, and screeched at, and finally begged my offspring to understand that closed doors means mum is writing and must not be interrupted (with the exception of one of them spurting blood or the house being on fire), the fact they can see me means they think I'm still on duty for everything from sorting out arguments to making milkshakes to finding missing Lego pieces, and they barge on through those doors like they weren't even there.
These holidays, after five years, I was finally over the interruptus maximus. And now, when my study doors are closed, they look like this:
Um, please ignore the fact the blinds are too short. That'll happen when one goes shopping with the child who is the main cause of all the interruptus maximus. I'll go get the right size eventually, but for now, they're working a treat.
Oh, and can I just have a moment to say how excited I am that this book will be out in less than a week:
Squee!!!! :-) :-) :-)