Yesterday I spent the best part of nine hours on the March edition of Norfolk Ancestor - the quarterly magazine of the Norfolk Family History Society.
I'm doing that hand in hand with the next Hethersett Herald and the village Good News. Then there's the book on Le Paradis Massacre to complete. That lot should keep me quiet for a while. I was ruminating on all this a few days ago (there's nothing like a good ruminate) and thinking of the wise words of a teacher at junior school who told my parents that one day I would be a writer as that seemed to be the thing I was interested in.
I suppose that beats the other way round with famous musicians like Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler being told they would never make a living out of playing the guitar. That reminds me of the story of Paul McCartney who sat outside a London Tube Station with a disguise on. He played and sang "Yesterday." A passer-by lobbed a coin into his tin and said "it's ok mate but it's not like the original."
And didn't Bob Dylan once come third in a Bob Dylan soundalike competition or have I made that one up? Thinking about it, who would want to sound like Bob Dylan anyway?
So here I am now bogged down with writing day after day after day. The problem is I can't do anything or go anywhere without writing about it. The Internet has been a curse on this as it gives so many opportunities to bloody well write (actually that's a rather bad pun on a track from one of my favourite albums Crime of the Century by Supertramp. The track is actually called Bloody Well Right and that is one of my least favourite tracks on the album to be honest).
Well today I'm having a break from writing and travelling up to Yorkshire. Yorkshire is nearer than you think. Our location for a family get together (whilst we still can) is 150 miles away. That makes it closer than the south coast of England and about the same distance as Birmingham but you always envisage Yorkshire as being a long long way away and indeed a world of giants and dragons.
I think the more you drive long distance the easier marathon journeys become. Three hours seems quite easy now. After all it's only one show on Radio Two or 40 tracks of a playlist. The time goes quite quickly - even on a total journey for the day of over 300 miles.
I think the most I've driven on one day is over 500 miles and I believe that was in France on the wrong side of the road (although they would say it was the right side of the road in more ways than one). I've done 400 plus a few times in this country.
The other thing is that in the past when I have driven over 150 miles I would feel very tired, but the older I get the less tired I feel and that seems to be the opposite of what you would expect.
Will tell you about the trip tomorrow. There is a rumour that some of those I will be spending the afternoon with actually read this blog.