Writing on Hay Bales

Firstly I should men­tion that, yes, I do suck for not see­ing out Blog Every Day April (BEDA). I blogged right up until April 28 and then I could blog no more. Like a marathon run­ner who gets to the fin­ish line rib­bon, looks at it for a while and then sits down for a rest.

But let’s move on.

I started my mov­ing on this week­end when I stayed a friend’s house on the Morn­ing­ton Penin­sula with a few writ­ing bud­dies. It sounds like we were at the beach but I believe the place we actu­ally stayed is called the inlandy-bit-of-the-peninish: a nice big pad­docky prop­erty that included a col­lec­tive noun of hay bales (It’s a truss of hay but I’m not sure what it is for hay bales).

That’s me and House­mate #1 work­shop­ping some ideas on said trusses of hay. I really wanted to sleep up there too but was put off my the sounds of tiny mice play­ing within the trusses.

Truss!