Did I really just disappear like that?
Yes. Yes, I did.
I posted all fizzy and peppy about what I was doing to raise money for Portland, and then I just … vanished.
Much of the responsibility for this vanishment must be laid at the feet of my tonsils.
The Revolutionary Horde: The feet … ?
Me: I know, I know.
Tonsils, as you’re no doubt aware,
don’t have feet are those pinkish little things at the back of your throat, which mostly mind their own business. But every once in a while, they get the decorators in. Mine, in this case, really splashed out. They went for the complete makeover, selecting the balloon design in a vibrant cherry-red with primrose-yellow accents (if you’ve ever had tonsillitis, I trust that you are now wincing). It was pretty impressive, I can tell you.
So I lay in bed for a few days, shivering through the fever-dreams and chugging penicillin like it was going out of style. Then, as I began to recover, I got to work on the Portland Fund, planning and tweaking behind the scenes, and drafting the big post that was going to float everything off.
It was going to be so great.
I finished my drugs.
Posted my post.
Yup. Two days after that post, complete throatstravaganza, yet again, in glorious technicolour. Ten more days of penicillin. Exhaustion like I haven’t felt since the Feaster learned how to sleep.
I might be coming out of it now. It’s a little hard to tell, because Niall got it too this week, so everything is a bit chaotic around here.
Somewhere in the middle of all that…
…as if to make sure nothing untoward happened, like, oh, people being able to send me money, my site went down. And some time after that, my big post vanished into the aether. No idea why. I’ve asked. Don’t worry, I’ve restored it (and edited it a bit to make a few things clearer), but I’ve no idea how long it was gone for.
You have to laugh.
And all those lovely little budding business-things that I’d planned to cherish into flower over the past ten days?
(By the way, the photo features some of the things that were budding in my garden the week before last. From the top: Chatham Island forget-me-not, tulip, biennial stock, rhododendron, allium, lilac, iris.)
So, am I going to Portland?
Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I bought my tickets on Monday.
(I’m too tired to deliver actual squeeing here; you’ll just have to imagine it.)
I am throwing myself upon the mercy of the universe, or similar. I have a little grace until the credit card comes home to roost, and I plan to spend the time promoting my beautiful offerings like billy-o.
So stand by for that.
I’m too tired to do Proper Marketing today.
But if you like, you can vist the String Revolution Shop and buy your very own piece of my work.
Or if you are feeling particularly lovely today, you can make a donation to the Portland Fund. In return (as detailed in that big post I keep going on about), you will receive my Rally Diary after I get back from Portland, an invitation to the teleclass I’m running in May on taming your UFOs, and my undying gratitude. Also, you will be followed around for the rest of the week by a fanfare of silver trumpets and a chorus of cartoon ostriches (this is a lie). Go on – it’ll be fun.