We are nearing the end of Lent and this year I have given up biscuits.  (I fell off the wagon a couple of times at work but I think even Jesus himself, faced with the day I’d had, would have been tempted by an M&S All Butter Shortbread).   I believe self-discipline is good for the soul and so every Lent finds me attempting abstention of some kind.  Diet coke and chocolate were successful; swearing lasted only a morning. Foregoing biscuits has been tougher than I thought: everywhere I go, platefuls of the things are winking at me.    A couple of years ago for a New Year resolution I decided to give up on certain friendships where I just didn’t get back what I was putting in.  Harsh, but wonderfully cathartic.

But what about the things we give up without meaning to?  Last year I joked that I had seemingly given up on my appearance after an unfortunate incident during which a doorstep caller addressed me as ‘Mr Ridgway’.   Often I feel I have given up hope.  I have also unintentionally given up writing .  The excuse that I am in the middle of moving house is now redundant as we have been in our new abode four whole months, but has morphed into every spare moment being spent on house and garden renovation.  Like Carrie Bradshaw cheating on fashion with furniture when she moves into her New York flat with Mr Big, I have been cheating on writing with interior design magazines, colour swatches, mood boards and Pinterest.

This doesn’t sit easy with me because I am of the strong belief that one can always find time for things one really wants to do and it is back to the old problem of self-discipline. Writing is like exercise and the writer needs to keep the creative mind supple with regular use.  At a recent family funeral , my cousin, who read The Ironic Bride with great enthusiasm (and even forced my octogenarian uncle to download it from Amazon) asked what my latest writing project is and I realised that I hadn’t written anything for a long time.  (I could tell you what Dulux’s Colour of the Year is, though,  all about damp and the latest geometric trends in decor).   So whereas a bit of abstention can be good for the soul, drifting into apathy isn’t and I’m keen to get back on track. Now, if I could write about interior design that would be too perfect!

So I am getting back into the saddle and starting to write again.  Just as soon as Easter rolls around and I can eat biscuits again while I write.