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| A fresh angleUp early for once, with time to spare. After a walk around the garden, I stood gazing from the back window towards the top of our little garden arch while waiting for the kettle to boil. That was when a Something caught my eye. It was narrow, pale, ghostly and appeared to kick slightly in a breeze that hardly stirred the leaves. Intrigued, I left the tea to brew [tea 'brews' at Plumpton House... in other homes, I realise it may 'mash' 'stew' or 'draw'] and ventured out again. What was it - a chrysalis? A wisp of sheep's wool? Or [and I hoped not] one of those horrible white plastic bags? It was none of these. As I discovered on seeing it from a fresh angle it was a cobweb, very round and complete with diamond dewdrops shimmering in the cool air. Seen sideways-on from the kitchen window, it had been unrecognisable. It's holiday time soon, so there won't be any garden-gazing for a while. Because before the holidays, there are concerts. There is writing to finish. There is a talk to think about. There are books to return. There is a birthday party. There are dresses to let out, and dresses to take in [impossibly, I seem to have both slimmed and expanded!] and one way and another there are more than a few ends to tidy - so I will be taking a Xanga break. Until later, all the best! If you love historical romance, they don't come much better than this... it's back to Bruges, ice-skating on the canals and riding ostriches past the lantern-lit horn windows just to remind myself how enjoyable this series was the last time I re-read it! | | |
| Summer  We got ourselves out early for a walk the other day - ages, it seems, since we've been here. These used to be old gravel pits, but now, with cleared pathways and sweet-smelling wooden hides for watching the birds and the wildlife it's the best antidote to mere pavement-pounding we know. As well as lots of new things, there are memories. Beneath a log: 'This is where we saw those tiny toads!' By the old road bridge: 'Do you remember when everything flooded here one Easter?' And remembering the dreaded Foot and Mouth outbreak: 'Good to see the sheep are back in that field again...' We saw a brilliant red butterfly, too, as a bonus! Must find out exactly what it was.... | | |
| I told you so...So who was it who said: 'I think the trolley is just a mite wider than that gap, dear?' And who continued: 'Look, I know my spatial awareness isn't quite as excellent as yours, but still... do you really think our supermarket shopping is going to squeeze through that gap... what with the wing-mirror sticking out, and everything?' You may have guessed, it was me. And who was it who said nothing, but thought everything would be just dandy as long as we all breathed in? You may also have guessed that the subsequent curved scratch on the rightside wheelarch of our small VW is Something Of Which We Shall Never Speak Again. And I'm mentioning this book again because it's just so darned good and I cannot put it down! There's this short scene early on, between Cardinal Wolsey and a young Thomas Cromwell, making use of firelight and shadows as you might a filmshow, where we learn more about their pasts and their characters than I would have thought possible on one page. Brilliant. | | |
| 'In Fortune's Footsteps'Hooray! 'In Fortune's Footsteps' has arrived at last. Congratulations to Lisa, and here's to a great book launch. | | |
| Cats may fly...Ignoring as far as possible the World Upside Down for the moment, and observing at some distance Civil War Re-enactment working its way to some sort of conclusion on the political front....there is only so much analysis and discussion one can take in, I find... we've been concentrating instead on planting vegetables. Nothing on a grand scale. We only have a small back garden, and although we might have put beetroot [the leaves and stalks are very decorative] or feathery carrots out in the front garden among the flowers, convention dictates that we plant food crops mainly behind the house. This year, we have tomatoes, peppers, herbs and potatoes. Strictly speaking, the potatoes aren't in the garden but set into four large containers - they look like shopping baskets. All we have to do is to earth up the plants as the grow and hey presto! we shall soon be digging out a huge crop of spuds. Allegedly. The problem was where to put the baskets. We had one plant in front of the dining room until it grew so big it blocked the light through the window. So we moved it, with two others, in front of the conservatory, where all three plants now appear to be having a competition to see how high they can grow. The fourth bag wouldn't fit, and so we put it behind the gate. Where, in the night, someone's very hefty cat took a flying leap off the top of the fence and flattened it...is this instant mashed potato? | | |
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