I got it wrong about heroes…

A real hero doesn’t wear a cape. A real hero knows what to hit with a hammer and where to hit it. Go on, ask me how I know?

Our heating came on for the first time since April. Although ‘came on’ was probably a bit of an exaggeration. It tried its hardest, bless it. You could hear it coughing as it tried to start. It managed it for a little while like a brave old dog, and then it needed to stop for a bit of a rest, as indeed do quite a few of us.

The hot water was the heat of a cup of coffee you’ve forgotten for half an hour. The radiators were about the same. Central heating engineers are apparently rare beasts, in the same league as unicorns, so my husband, aided remotely by his brother, who’s a retired heating engineer, began to test things.

He explained it to me. I did my best to listen, honestly, I did. I understood all the words individually. It was just the sentences that left me thinking that the best thing I could do was to provide tea and coffee and cook his favourite meals..

Then, on Thursday night, he headed outside to the boiler, took the cover off, and hit it. I thought I knew why because I was getting frustrated too, but this wasn’t just any thump. This was a sharp tap with the side of his hand, and there was what I swear sounded like a hiccup, followed by the sound of a heating system firing up and staying on.

Fired by enthusiasm, he went and got a hammer next. I watched in fascination as he thumped a few radiator valves. Now our almost 25 year old system is running smoothly and happily again. No gurgles, no hiccups. Just hot water. Have I mentioned how wonderful hot water is? And warm rooms too?

So here we have a hero. A true hero. The right man, in the right place, at the right time. Many years ago, when I wrote for a different publishing company, their guidelines included the fact that a true hero was someone who could say. ‘It’s okay, I’m a (insert profession) and the heroine could breathlessly say. “Oh, thank heavens you’re here.” You couldn’t call them Nigel, but my undercover hero is my husband and he always will be.

So now onto my ‘this could only happen in Poole’ for the week, and here it is. https://www.bournemouthecho.co.uk/news/25579121.playful-seal-spotted-off-coast-canford-cliffs/ Don’t look at this if you’re squeamish, because the seal isn’t playful. It’s planning to bite the eel’s head off and eat it. Just look at those teeth on the seal, and the size of the eel. Neither of them are the sort of thing you necessarily want swimming beside you, are they? But when my Windy Bay characters go up to Dragons Point and talk about the legend of the dragon, this is the sort of thing their ancestors would have seen. Only bigger… Eels weighing fifty pounds have been caught off the coast at Weymouth, and the longest one caught was 9 feet long.

So please, be sure to come to Dorset and enjoy the swimming. I haven’t heard of any eel attacks. Or seal attacks although a few enjoy pushing people off their paddleboards. I’ve seen seals basking on the beach at Harbourside in the winter and there’s a little horror who amuses himself waiting till the line fishermen get a bit. They then swim in and bite the fishies' heads off, leaving the fisherman who did all the work with only the heads to show for it.

But sure, seals are cute. Definitely cute. No trouble to anyone. Just like me, really…

And to prove how harmless I am, here’s my picture, of the beach where I have seen seals. Someday, I'll get a picture, promise!

Have fun till we meet on Tuesday and then I’ll tell you about Thursday’s new book, which you’re going to enjoy.