A typical morning for me at the moment. I wake up at 5.30am with a letter to the Times in my head, spend an hour or so trying to form my arguments against compulsory inspection, and then find it degenerating into so many pieces of information and so many directions at once, that it becomes incoherent.
Find that someone has answered a family history query on one of the boards, and bemoan once again that don't have the money to order all the certificates I need.
I have this fantasy in which I live in an old rambling house which has enough room for me to have a library come study... a place where I have all my books and a big table for to work on and scatter with the results of my research.
I suddenly realised that I have this superstitious feeling that I shouldn't wish for a room of my own in case I get it because my family throw me out or admit me to the sunset home for eccentric relatives. And suddenly I realised that it would be possible to separate my living area from the family with a room divider of some sort, and hmmm I have to go away and think about this. Maybe I should make it so, Captain, and stop dreaming about it?