Sitting in a room writing the draft of latest play ’Churchill’s Children’ to go into rehearsals with is a fine art.  The phone keeps going and the door bell doesn’t stop.  This morning I have spoken to Denise from India, Gordon from Glasgow and a man who wants to sell me fish.  He is starting a new round in the neighbourhood.  I wish him well but I really want to get back to the laptop I’m on now and not hear his life story.  He’s from Devon and has his own boat.  I decide no one is going to knock this door without a product to sell me so I leave the bells ringing.  For now at least.  I duck as I can see a man with a clipboard heading my way.  He wears the jacket of an electricity company and is coming up the drive.  Need some lonely times!