Granny thinks back to when she first thought up the title for her book. She can't remember doing it exactly, but it probably came in the night, just like that - most of her good titles do. But it wasn't altogether liked at first. An early reviewer liked the book a lot all except the title which she dismissed as 'coy.' Well never mind that, given what's happened to the title since. 'You should have trade-marked it,' Beloved says. 'Trade mark a title?' asks Granny. 'I mean - you just don't. It would be a waste of money. And, anyway, most titles turn up all over the place on different books.'
But this one hasn't. Whim or not, coy or not, here it still is. While Granny herself who has spent the week processing tomatoes - sauce, pickle, chutney - why when you grow stuff does it all come AT ONCE- feeling rather like her domesticated mother rather than her undomesticated self - doesn't feel like a writer just now AT ALL.
Not that she minds being reminded she was a writer once. Maybe, one day, she will be a writer again.
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