Well, my much-anticipated weekend in London didn’t turn out quite as planned, I’m afraid.  I was on my way to Harlequin Mills & Boon in Richmond for my celebration lunch when I had a phone call from the vet to say that my old dog, Mungo, was in some distress, so I came straight back that afternoon.  I brought him home for a last night, and the next morning sat with him in front of the fire until the vet came to put him to sleep.  Anyone who’s ever had to make that decision for a much loved animal will know what a sad morning that was for me.  I know it was the right thing to do, but Mungo was the centre of my life for nearly fifteen years, and I miss him terribly.  He was very old and a bit crotchety at the end, but I think of all the years of love and companionship he gave me and remember him for the star of a dog he was.  He was such a beautiful puppy, and he grew up to be a constant presence at my feet.  It’s so strange not to have him there now.

So my year ended with a whimper rather than a bang, after all, not helped by the fact that I caught some virus that festered as I drove up to Scotland through the snow.  You know that person who spoils things for everyone at Christmas by being ill? There’s always someone, and this year it was me.  I had to go to bed in the middle of Christmas lunch, and as if I wasn’t bad enough company by then, I developed an ear infection that has left me (temporarily, I hope) almost deaf.  I’ve only ever been able to hear in one ear, and thought I knew what it was like to have restricted hearing, but I realise now that I had no idea what it is like to be deaf.  It’s incredibly isolating with both ears blocked, everything  muffled and all the noise inside your head but I know I’m lucky in that some hearing will come back eventually. 

Between the virus, the deafness and missing Mungo, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, in fact, but I gave myself until the new year to wallow in self-pity.  I duly pulled myself together on 1st January and have had a couple of days obsessively clearing out my study prior to getting down to work on Monday.  Very therapeutic it has been, too.  I spent a fortune on plastic boxes of various sizes and order has been firmly restored in the cupboard, which was a Virgo’s worst nightmare and is now a study in repression, with everything neatly filed and boxed away.  Most satisfactory. 

My next task is to plan the year ahead.  Although losing Mungo has left the house desperately empty, it means I’m free to travel a bit further afield again.  For the last year or so I’ve only been able to leave him at the vet’s for a week at the most, but now I can think about Australia again.  It’s five years since I’ve been, and high time I was back.  I’d love to go to the Romance Writers of Australia’s conference in Sydney in August, there are special people to catch up with in Adelaide, and I’ve been looking at walking the Larapinta Trail in the Northern Territory while I’m there ... it sounds fabulous.  This year I’m also planning to walk the West Highland Way (Mungo’s memorial walk) and catch up with everyone I haven’t been able to see for the last couple of years. There’s talk of Madrid, Bruges, Amsterdam, plus places nearer to home, and I’m back teaching romance writing at the Watermill in Posara in September.  So there’s lots to look forward to in 2010.  It’ll be a year of change for me, but of new opportunities, too, and I am determined to make the most of them.  And now my study is organised, I’ve got no excuse not to get back to work …