Yesterday, I had a garden wall built in front of my house. My bricklayer, who is now a dear friend, had just put the coping stones on the piers when I took him out a cup of tea and said: ‘Sorry, but it needs to be higher.’
Poor Vic. He is 72. But, off came the coping stones and up went my wall two more courses.
I was excited about this wall as I’ve been waiting for it to be built for two years (I love building work). But it was only when I told my best friend what an exciting day I was having, that she highlighted to me what a metaphor that wall was.
Oh yeah… and I am meant to be the writer.
You see, I think we all need to build more brick walls, metaphorically, of course. Because, I’m really tired at the moment, sick and tired. Last year I had terrible back problems which caused me pain every day for nine months. This is not unusual as a writer — it’s our bad habit of sitting for hours at our laptops, usually on the sofa, or in bed. We do it to ourselves if we’re really honest. But us…