Bokelskere.no

When you’re waiting for something, time has a way of slowing right down. Those weeks I was at my sister Jo’s house time went slower than a snail with very bad rheumatism. I wished I could have pressed the fast-forward button on time and got myself back to my Harp Barn, but Jo said I was not well enough and anyway the barn wasn’t ready yet, so waiting was my only choice. I did not like waiting. Not at all. I was twitchy.