The postman rang once 13

If you heard a loud screech just now, it was me. The postman rang (once) to deliver a box of books .

That screech? Was me squeeing!  Yup, my print copies of Personal Protection arrived. Yes, I picked one up and petted it, stroked it and hugged it. (I think Spike thought I was insane.)

The back is beautiful too with a gradient shade and a little vine at the top…

I can’t stop smiling as I look at the shelf above my computer …

Notice a very special spine amongst the others there?
(The golden wooden spoon is a prize I got for plotting, of all things, at our last writers’ getaway weekend in Collingwood. It’s for ‘stirring the plot’ although officially on the bottom it says “Master Plot Mixer.”)

13 thoughts on “The postman rang once

Comments are closed.