I’ve mentioned before that I cook to avoid stress. Last night I made a spinach, pumpkin and feta lasagna with a roasted red pepper sauce.

It’s really a paradox that I cook when I’m in energy-overload because I don’t really have an appetite. So the whole thing works out to be a tease to a degree.

However, once the house starts smelling like roasting garlic and sizzling olive oil – life immediately simplifies.

Red wine also helps.

I’m busier at the moment than I’ve been during the cult’s web voyage of words that started back in September. Drat you job, packing/finding house, arranging other sillies-ness!

Once again my anthology has… ummm… grown? I’m not sure if that’s what it’s called when I start writing poems in all sorts of unorganized places faster than my trying-to-take-shape book can handle… but it will work for now.

Supposedly in about three weeks we’ll have moved. Timeframes spin me out, especially ones that involve very short periods where I have zero input… or so it seems.

At least there’s bound to come some decent poetry from it…