'What's the time, Mr Wolf?'.
Thankyou. Yes, me too. Pardon? For once, I do know. It's my seventy-fifth. Yes, after a long time spent making picture books, this one is book number75.
Actually, it's the night of publication day now. Not just for me, but for 270 other authors Out There, all of us unwittingly part of the vast number of new books released on Super-Mega-Uber-Overkill Thursday ; traditionally the blackest day in a sitka spruce's calendar, in much the same way as December 25th is a double-plus-ungood day if you're a turkey.
So many other amazing books come out today. If I was half as wealthy as I wish I was, I'd be out there buying several forests' worth. However, more importantly, today, we have Eldest Daughter ( the book character known to some of you as Small)
getting packed before leaving home for university. Therefore, instead of cracking open a bottle to celebrate being fortunate enough to be part of the cascade of wonderful books about to be unleashed upon you, Dearest Readers, I found myself taking part in the final victory lap around our local supermarket with Small-about-to-be-Student. The part I played was Sponsor, Financial Backer, Coach and Cheerleader, as I'm sure you can understand. It was not the kind of shopping you'd do for tasteful little treats to tempt a wolf's appetite, such as are peeking coyly out of Mr Wolf's basket.
All suggestions welcome.
And I suspect once Small actually does settle in, with her soup pot and her knife and chopping board and collection of herbs and spices, she won't look back.
Phone home? That's the stuff of which fairytales are made.