Hell's teeth!

Another lovely launch tonight – Mersey Minis Vol. 2 - LIVING. It's at the World Museum, which is frightfully smart and really lovely – very generous of them to host us. A marvellously apt place to launch a Mersey Mini, given the international flavour of the writing and the quality of the editing and illustration. Fiona and I are very proud of these little books and so thrilled to have such enthusiastic feedback from readers, reviewers and colleagues.
However, back stage all is not smooth. For one thing, the Mersey Minis website has vanished - all people will find now is a cute little message that says 'back soon' or something similar. Not ideal. The air has been blue in Capsica Towers for the last couple of days as we try to track down our webmaster.
I'm going away on Friday and have about 5 weeks' work to do before I go. So I wake at about 3.47am most nights and spend some time (feels like years, probably 3 mins) fretting and wondering if I should get up and do something or get more sleep. The sleep usually wins, eventually.
This morning I discovered that the two rooms I thought I'd booked for my cousin and I are not booked. But lots of other people are. Booked, that is. So the house is full, and the house next door. So we might be camping for two weeks instead; Romania has had the hottest June on record, but what's the betting it will then break into the wettest July? Soggy camping. Ah well.
It all makes good fuel for the autobiography. Not that I intend writing one – it's such hard work, trawling through one's past. Hard and painful. Not pleasant. Quite apart from the question of whether anyone would want to read it (answer: a very few very very good friends, perhaps).
Must go and iron something to wear later. Can listen to the Archers while I'm doing so.