I have photographed it for you in my (not nice, according to my neighbour Vasoline, who mows her plastic (as I discovered by accident when I was not trespassing but just merely checking, and then her cameras filmed me, because she is paranoid that someone would trespass, and while she didn’t drag me to the police she pointed out there were also cameras pointed at her cameras in case somebody – here she gave me a look, you know which one – wanted to steal a camera for their criminal goals) lawn garden. As in her moving her lawn and me photographing in my garden. There are no such things as lawn gardens, no matter what Vasoline and her plastic grass think. It is sometimes a difficult thing to write, which is why I hire an editor, although Nigel quit halfway through Haggis MacBrawn’s (no longer a) Biggest Secret and now I have to work with Clive on my epic fantasy grim dark romantic novel. Clive is not much better than Nigel. But one can’t be picky when it comes to editors, because they’re expensive, which is why I don’t have one for my blog posts.
(Is it possible to put emojicons in blog posts? Because I tweet on Twitter on my phone, which has emojicons on it, but this I am writing on my laptop computer and it doesn’t.)
The important thing is that I have photographs for you, dear, dear Fans! It is a very fertile garden 😉 and Omnibuses (collections of my three novels) grow everywhere! Look at this here growing Omnibus:
(Not even one plastic nice lawn or a jacuzzi. See, Vasoline? I hope you don’t.)
My designer Paolo tells me he is working very hard (I don’t know why his eyes rolled, but I have suspicions [pill emojicon]) on the leatherbound hardcover cover with tasteful golden embossings. I told him to put it on hold, as in the work, not [pill emojicon], although he could do with that too, because I realised you can’t emboss a kilt with gold, and his eyes did that thing again. Maybe he should have that checked, I suggested, and he was a bit confused. The tic, I specified, and he thought I said “tick” (I think that’s what he thought) and he said, very offendedly, “I don’t have crabs,” and this is why I try not to talk to him about his personal life.
(Maybe there are husbands worse than Gunther. No wonder poor Andreas is vegan. [eyeroll emojicon])
PS. I know that many of my Fans want nothing more than to read about my own personal life back in the time when I accidentally found myself about to be murdered by the enemies of a Colombian drug czar and fell for the personal trainer Gunther who rescued me from certain death with a cement block on the bottom of the ocean, but there are only so many hours in the day that I can spend working on my actual work than house chores and sighing at Gunther’s bulk orders of Prongles!