There are many, many things I should be doing with my time right now. Finishing a book for instance. Packing for the trip to Australia next week. Maybe a little Spring cleaning. But at the moment all I seem to be able to do is make little woolly cupcakes.
I can't really explain it. Mads has enough now to set up quite an impressive bakery. And yet I keep creating them, night after night. It's like an obsession. I suppose I should just be thankful that I'm not churning out real cupcakes at the same rate.
And in my defence (and in case my editor happens to read this) I have been working on the book during the day. And (in case my mum reads this) I have made a packing list so theoretically it should now just be a matter of chucking all our stuff in for a bag. It's just that of an evening I see the wool and the urge comes over me for cakes.
Hopefully it won't last. Perhaps if I keep reading this blog I will be able to wean myself off the cupcake habit and onto something a little less old-ladyish.
