Oh, dear. Can anything else go wrong?

 I wasn't going to say much about my current situation, but waking up to such devastating news this morning I am moved to Reveal All. Please note, this is not a pleas for sympathy, simply a statement of fact. Recently, I received a third cancer diagnosis and Last week I began a fairly unpleasant cycle of chemo. Much worse than the last lot I had three years ago. So it is affecting my ability to do my job, and I now feel much worse than I did before I started it. My youngest son is now marooned in the land of the damned - but at least he's with his lovely wife - and the eldest son is currently filling the position of carer, which is unfortunately far more onerous than we originally thought. Daughter one is providing taxi service and support, and daughter the younger comes down from London when she can. Brightest spot so far is that the new cat has settled in, and although she will never replace my beloved Gloria and Godiva, she's doing a pretty good job.

And added to the shit show we have woken up to across the pond, our own politics and politicians are about as much use as the traditional chocolate teapot. (Apologies for the cliché) Horizon scandal, anyone? Honestly, makes you wonder what the point is, doesn't it?

Anyway, on a brighter note (ha bloody ha) I have almost finished Libby 27, called by me Murder and The Magician's Nephew. If my head will work properly, publishers will have it this week and it will come out next April. Meanwhile, Murder and The Crooked Horse bursts into the world tomorrow, and I am indebted to Paul Parker for reminding me that I hadn't written a blog for ages!

I have a great desire this morning to emulate a certain Fotherington Thomas. I feel it is the only way set the world to rights. "Hello, birds, hello sky..."