Grand Central Station

Actually, I am in Britain so I guess it should be Waterloo or Victoria or Euston. Whatever the name of the Station, you probably get the picture.

My writing spot is in the kitchen/living room. The only room in the house where there is a fire lit – hence, on a day like today (misty and cold) folks keep popping in and staying to chat. Which is nice, unless you are really trying to concentrate.

Even the neighbour and her dog just came in by. True enough, I invited them in, and was delighted to have them here. 

I’ve sent off the email I was working on, which really required more thought than I gave it. I’ll just have to hope that the recipient understands that there is a lot going on here. 

Now it’s time to start thinking of dinner. And the wedding is in two days. Baking to be done for that. Fingernails polished. Cases packed. Labels removed from fascinator and jacket. Umbrella to be found. 

Never mind.

It’s all good.

I will not panic. I will hold steady while paddling frantically below the surface. 

Because at the end of the day, we are about to celebrate a wonderful wedding. Rain or shine, hot or cold, it is a glorious occasion, uniting two beautiful people together forever.

Grand Central Station is the place to be, not sequestered in some cubby hole of an office writing fantastic prose. 

That day will come – perhaps.