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Been to the writing group tonight, and managed to scribble down a few pages of stuff. I have all these snippets of writing, some characters, a vague plot, and an awfy grand idea that it might be a proper book. The only problem is I don't know what it's about. I mean really about. It has, as yet, no meaning. I live in the hope that one day it will all become clear!

I must confess I have had a crisis of identity with the blogging - I want to write about stuff that happens, but I am terrified that people will work out who I am, and let's face it, I didn't really think too much about being anonymous. If I write about work ( and I do about three different jobs), I run the risk of breaking codes of conduct, blah blah. I am also suffering from the perennial Orkney condition of not wanting to be too confrontational, or rocking the boat. I read the other blogs and I hang my head in shame because people really seem to say what they think. I am also, ashamed to admit that I have a very thin skin, and it doesn't take much to dent my confidence, so I suspect I don't let rip as I am afraid of being challenged. What a wimp, eh? It's for these reasons I admire Hermit and Moo so much - you get such a strong sense of who they are, frailties and all, regardless of what the world thinks of them. I like to think I don't give a monkey's what other people think, but I do. A lot.

I took a group of visitors round Orkney on Saturday, and the weather was superb, sunny, brisk breeze, scudding clouds. One lady said to me that before she came, she was reading about the Ring of Brodgar and thinking, 'how interesting can a bunch of stones be?' Then when we walked round it and chatted, she jsut couldn't believe how 'wonderful and magical' it is. We are so lucky - we can go up there any time of year - midsummer (shrouded in mist this year), first frosts, autumn sunsets, Northern Lights in winter, full moon, dawn, snow, rain, hail. And it is glorious every single time.

Next time, pics of the vegetables.