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It’s a Sign

October 29, 2012

I remember calling the national insurance hotline here in the UK before I left Canada. The lovely chap on the phone said fortnight. I was thrilled to be moving to a part of the world where people had an elegantly fusty way to refer to two weeks. Then I got here and things got even better. I read in an apologetic shop window…”Please excuse our appearance whilst we are redecorating.” Whilst. WHILST! Who says whilst? English people, that’s who. I just love it.

It’s a rare sign in these parts that I don’t have a fondness for. The courteousness of British culture seeps into signs and gives most of them a charm to which I am laughably susceptible. Some are rueful…

Some more forthright…

Many explicitly grovel…

Some are neglected…

Some succinct…

Some commemorative…

Some break one’s heart…

Some should have more p’s and q’s…

Some are downright ghostly…

Some give directions in only in London fashion…

Not to be coy…well, to be extremely coy actually, what all these signs point to is the fact that I am waaaaaaay behind on my book. I’m in a perilous place between draft 2 and 3 and the fact is my book needs me desperado style. My point is that this had better be my last blog for a while, until I can take my ms off its IV and discharge it. If you are a regular reader, thank you and please forgive my hiatus. If you, like most people here, and have key word searched Burlington arcade, baby brogues or London cabs, I can’t imagine you’re the slightest bit bothered. It’s my England novel so I might as well work on it while I’m still devotedly here. This blog is supposed to be in support of my poor book for heavens sakes. One more sign will have to do.

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