I feel a little like an animal with an overwhelming urge to hibernate.
However in our fairly temperate climate here in New Zealand, I believe about the only animals that hibernate are hedgehogs.
(Below is probably all you need to know about hedgehogs in New Zealand but were afraid to ask. Written by school children, it's an extract from a longer piece I found on the internet.)
In 1870 the hedgehogs were sent on a boat to New Zealand. They have short legs. They can run.
Hedgehogs are mammals. They eat slugs and snails. They sleep in the day and are awake at night. They are nocturnal. They get run over by cars because they are on the road at night. Hedgehogs crunch snails and munch!
Although I can identify somewhat with a prickly, short-legged, nocturnal mammal with no road sense, maybe I am really more like a cat.
After a two-hour kip this afternoon, I am feeling fully restored. These autumn days, the nights are closing in fast. The curtains are drawn as early as 6.00pm.
In today's mail was the certificate for my short story.
It's gone up on the fridge.
I also received an appraisal from the judge, Owen Marshall, who described it as 'a successful story which captures Frances's slightly 'Ugly Betty' character with wry, satiric humour.' (As Frances is a semi-autobiographical character, I don't know whether to be flattered or not!)
A good two hours of writing beckons. Maybe I'll even manage to write something for Poetry Thursday - although by the time it's written, it's more likely to be 'Poetry Early-Hours-of-Friday-Morning.'
But first .... I think what I really need
is a cup of coffee.