Accounting

I did not buy one single book. I bought three. (Well, actually, I bought eight, but five of them were for my daughter.) I'm sorry, but if you want me to not buy books, then you're just going to have to blindfold me whenever I enter a bookstore. How could I possibly be expected to resist picking up a novel titled THE ELEGANCE OF THE HEDGEHOG?

The energy for this book-buying spree came from tea beforehand, in which I did not have scones with clotted cream, nor did I have a chicken and leek pasty. I did have shortbread, accompanied by a macaroon and preceded by a swooningly wonderful ploughman's lunch. A fresh triangle of bread, crumbly Vermont cheddar cheese, Wensleydale and cranberry cheese, two pickled onions that stayed firmly on the plate at all times, and two thick slices of ham. Why isn't Elizabeth's tea shop next door?

And speaking of accountability, I'm throwing myself on the collective humiliation power of my blog readers (all 3 and a half of you). Here's my pledge: by Friday my revisions will be finished. Completed. Done.

Or something very bad will happen.

How's that for motivation?