Monday 12 June 2023: Editing, editing, editing

Image by Nattanan Kanchanaprat from Pixabay

I didn’t work too late into the evening on Thursday and when the poet called to say he was on his way home from band practice, I finished the chapter I was working on and caught up with my online workshops for another day.

We had takeaway for tea. I didn’t eat it all, but we also had chocolate. I shouldn’t have had the chocolate. I was awake for half the night with a really bad reflux. I was up that long that at one point the dog got out of his basket, came and joined me, went out for a slow walk around the garden, came back in, and took himself back to bed. So I was still feeling dog rough Friday morning.


I had my weekly weigh-in, which was good but I can’t really bank on it staying that way as I hardly ate anything last week. See more over on the secret sugarholic blog when this week’s post goes up tomorrow at 9am.

Last week’s secret sugarholic blog didn’t go up as planned at 9am. I’d inadvertently set it for 9pm. It’s all in block editing and I haven’t mastered that yet. I was able to go in and change it to 11am so that it did at least post on Tuesday morning and not Tuesday evening.

Still unable to eat much, I started Friday with a cup of tea and checked social media and emails while I drank that. I arrived at my desk with everything ready to go on the Taliban book… and ending up faffing on badges I’ve been awarded so far on Slimming World. They don’t do jpgs yet, so I had to grab them and manipulate them myself. Again, those will be on this week’s post over there tomorrow.

I put a few washloads through and transferred them to the tumble dryer. I was approved for another book at NetGalley, so downloaded that and updated my Trello board. There was another I was approved for last week that also went on the Trello board. It seems I’d already sent it to my Kindle. My weekly tech scan kicked in all by itself, so that was one job less for me to worry about.

By the time I finally sat down in front of the electronic editing, I was starting to feel a bit peckish. So I made us some breakfast. Cheerios for the poet, Weetabix with hot milk for me, which I ate slowly and in small mouthfuls.

I was working away but the dog kept demanding attention and I knew the poet was going into another series of video meetings. So, to help me focus, I put my earphones in and listened to heavy rain on YouTube. I rattled through the next chapter much more quickly than any of the ones that went before. Took a break, made us both a drink, caught up on a couple of blogs, and off I went again.

In between chapters I took breaks, and I fired off an email to the author explaining everything I usually say when I send a file back to explain what I’ve done and what they need to do. This was so once the book was finished, I could just send it back to him. By 7pm I’d had enough and I signed off for the day.


The poet went fishing on Saturday morning, partly to leave me in peace to get on with my work, partly because he’s not been for ages and was getting the itch. I had a bit of a lie in, but when I got up I had washing to hang out, birds to feed, pets to feed, a dog to medicate. It was 11am before I got to my desk, and then I fell down a Twitter rabbit hole.

A Twitter handle I want has been unavailable since 2011 (I started looking in 2014). It’s an obviously inactive account, but Twitter will not release it to me, telling me instead to add a hyphen or a number… only my name has 15 characters, so there’s no room for any hyphens or numbers.

I have set up a new account at @DiWordsworth, but I don’t really like being called Di. Only Brummies and family call me Di… *and* the best man at our wedding (who did it on purpose at first and then it stuck). But apart from that… However, my existing account is @DMWordsworth, and I think the middle initial is too much information for a social media account.

I’ve been reading that Twitter is thinking of purging inactive accounts and this seems to have conjured up a Twitter storm. What about account holders who have died and whose loved ones still like to read their Tweets? What about when there’s a full history of Tweets? What about people who created an account just so they can log on and read other snippets and news? And what about campaigns and such that had accounts started for the life of the campaign and then wrapped up?

While I fully understand about users who have died and I hope some agreement can me made over those (such as on Facebook where the account becomes a memorial account), I think for everything else, everyone should consider the operative word: ‘inactive’. That includes any kind of activity, including logging on and, I think, other people liking historic Tweets.

Releasing an obviously inactive account would clearly be good for me, but so too would just adding in that extra character. I also wonder if paying for Twitter Blue for, say, a month or so, might change Twitter’s view on reassigning inactive accounts.

Anyway, that little lot over with… I started work. And while the poet was indeed out, I still put my earphones in to try and block out the sound of squabbling starlings in the garden.

I made some good progress and finished at around 7pm again. We went out and did the shopping, and when we got back the poet made us a quick tea.


We were up really early for us on Sunday. That probably had just as much to do with no gig the night before as it did with us both knowing I still had work to do. First of all I hung out two washloads while the poet fed the birds. We needed more bird food, though, so I added that to a short shopping list and we went out for a couple of hours.

Our new bed is arriving on Friday and it’s a bigger bed than the one we currently have. So we also had to buy a complete new bed set, which included a new continental quilt and four new pillows, two each. We bought a summer quilt at 7.5 tog and spent a little more on the pillows than we have done in the past because we wanted two good ones each instead of three passable ones each. We also bought a new mattress protector, but that has to go back as I picked up the wrong size.

We’re going from a double bed to a king-sized bed, and that means a super-king-sized duvet. I picked up a super-king-sized mattress protector instead of a king-sized one, but we also chose two super-king-sized duvet cover sets, two king-sized fitted sheets, and two packs of two pillowcases.

At the pet shop we bought dog food, and at the home bargains shop we bought sunflower hearts, high-energy no-mess songbird food, fat blocks, and mealworms, taking the last two teeny tiny bags of mealworms on the shelf. We also bought milk from the home bargains shop because the supermarket didn’t have the 2-pint bottles I prefer.

Honestly, people. Those 4-pint bottles might seem cheaper, but you’re supposed to dispose of any milk after they’ve been open for three days. They might suit a family, but they’re too big for a couple. And if I notice anyone has had a large bottle of milk that’s been open all week, I usually decline a drink.

When we got back, we had something to eat and the poet bought and downloaded some design software he’s been hankering after. As I carried on with work, he had a play with that. He changed the cat litter as well and he had a look at an outside tap we have that doesn’t work… the reason it doesn’t work is because it’s been disconnected and the water supply to it has been blanked off.

Honestly – again! – I do not understand why the people who owned this house devalued it not once, but several times.

Yes, they did a very nice refurb and the kitchen and the bathroom are both gorgeous. But they removed a second toilet, they removed a walk-in pantry, they put a patio door in a ‘bedroom’, losing a potential second bedroom, and they disconnected the only outside tap when there’s a wraparound garden! And when they refurbed the bathroom, they stole three feet from a potential third bedroom, which we now use as our office.


Give them their due, they did keep a bath when everyone else seems to be ripping baths out in favour of walk-in showers, and we do have a walk-in shower as well, although a shower over the bath would have been perfectly adequate rather than steal that footage from a bedroom. Showers may use less water, but they’re no good for someone with eczema, like me, or anyone who can’t stand for long periods of time.

Anyway, the poet has seen how he can easily reinstate the outside tap, which will make watering the garden (including the bird baths and drinkers and any fruit and vegetables) much easier.

I plodded through the work, counting down the pages as I went, and I brought the washing in and put the new food out for the birds. I also kept an eye on the thunderstorms, but the one that was heading towards us ended up bypassing us and going over the top. I spotted another one, coming up from the south. But as that one drew nearer, it swerved to the left. Boo!

The poet made a nice salad for tea, with ham, cheese, eggs and spelt bread, and he dragged me away from the computer for half an hour. We followed it with strawberries and ice cream, and then I was back at it.

I worked all evening but I finished it and sent it back to the author. Yay!


I have yoga first thing, and I should be back at my desk by 11am. I’ll invoice for the editing job, then start my week proper. Hopefully how I intend to continue.

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