Four mornings a week I work at the village supermarket. While on the one hand this keeps me firmly in touch with reality - probably a good thing - it also can leave me pretty wiped out in the afternoons. That's when I pootle about my website, updating it. Today I finally finished uploading a picture story I wrote over a decade ago. It's been re-written dozens of times, and was rejected about as many by UK publishers. In a Don Quixote moment I decided to publish it myself...and the Tiddler Press was born. It kept me out of mischief for a while and I somehow published and sold four titles and 800 books. Books is a pretty loose description - they were really little pamphlets, as my budget was as much as I could spare from my part time earnings. And printed in black and white, hence the scraperboard. It was a pretty good effort, but I only earned enough to print the next book. Eventually I went back to painting and here we are today.
Hermit, needle felter and artist writing from a cottage in rural Shropshire. Blogging since 2005.
Wonderful. I especially like the picture with the rooster, a great favorite of mine. Though I'm not sure why. The one time I lived in proximity to a rooster, I was astonished by a) just how early they start crowing in the morning, and b) how they go on crowing for most of the day.
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