This weekend, I have mostly been playing in the sunshine – as I’m sure you have too if you’ve got any sense.  Was this conducive to writing book seven?  Of course not.  But our flat is one of those Edinburgh specials; ice-on-the-inside-of-the-window-cold during winter and bone-meltingly-sauna-like as soon as there’s a hint of sunshine, so I doubt I’d have done any more if I’d remained indoors.  Sweat in places I didn’t know I had, perhaps.

Book Seven, I’m sure you will remember, is for 8-10 year olds.  I decided a long time ago it was going to be about a couple of characters who have been fermenting in my brain for several years, and my plan for tomorrow is to sit down and start writing and see where it goes.  It will be silly, there’s no getting away from that – not that I want to get away from it, but I sometimes think maybe I should try to do something sensible in case people start to think I’m incapable – but not in a trying too hard sort of a way.

And it will begin, as so many classics do, when a boy called Chris wakes up to discover a cat on his head.  I know the cat-owners among you will be nodding in recognition right now, whilst the dog owners are going ‘give me a pet that lies on your feet any day.’

Meanwhile the fish owners are envious of all people with pets capable of interaction, and rather than going on gumtree to source a more effective animal they are manaically plotting our downfall in a gloomy corner.  I’m not saying that all fish-owners are sociopaths, OK, but just keep an eye on them.  NEVER turn your back on a ‘friend’ with an aquarium.  Or if you do, make sure you can see their reflection in the glass.

And on that bombshell, I’ll leave you with a picture I took on a wander along the Water of Leith today.  I am an avid collector of graffiti, and this tag made me smile.