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March 30th 2011 was a normal day except for one big difference, I wasn't based at home, but instead had gone with my friend Sarah to The Old Bailey, two writers doing random research. When my train came through the last tunnel, after our interesting day, it bleeped continually with messages. I am not that popular. Something was wrong. I called my youngest son. 'Mum,' he said, 'They've just taken a stretcher in to go and get you.' I didn't understand and said so. 'We've had a fire in the house. The two cats have died,' he said. We lost all our possessions, but I felt lucky that my children and I were all saved.

So far 2013 has been challenging in its own way. Building works in our new home hav been stressful too. They had to pull me out from under plastic sheeting to get me to sleep in my parent's home whilst it was going on. And since the builders have gone we've had a flood which damaged the flat downstairs and a day of no electricity and consequently no heating. The latter happened as I was coming home from Yorkshire having had a wonderful weekend away in Sarah's fabulous home, and I lost my cool on the telephone when trying to sort the problem out.

When I was in Sedona in the summer of 2011, my shaman suggested that whenever an animal seeks you out and acts unusually it is a sign for you.

Just recently a squirrel has made frequent visits to my balcony.

Perhaps to demonstrate that winter must be over.

Yes, I must remember that it is.

#housefire

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