More domesticity, and walks….

The first news is that I’ve finished the first draft of the first of 2027’s Windy Bay books and I’ve got a title for it. It’s going to be called ‘Dances with Easels’, which makes a change from Dances with Wolves, doesn’t it? It’s unusual in that it focuses on the Purbeck Hills rather than the sea, because I love those too.

I’m sure it won’t surprise you to know that they’re big and solid and timeless, and made from chalk backed up by limestone. They’re somewhere between 20 and 30 million years old, and I suppose when you’re that old, what do the odd million years matter? The rocks themselves are somewhere between 45 and 110 million years old and date from when this area was covered by shallow seas. When I look out at them, I start realising how short a time we’re here for and asking myself, ‘Is this really worth getting that worked up about?’ And ninety-nine per cent of the time I think ‘actually not’. I also think that they’ve seen a lot and most of the people survived whatever was bothering them, and that helps too.

I can, and do as often as I can, sit and look out across the sea to the hills beyond and just let my brain go into neutral and the ideas come flooding in as the silly thoughts about things like the news and the little things that still seem so big at the time go back in the small corner of my mind where they ought to live. Hills have always done that for me, hence my love of the Black Mountains, where Peter’s cousin Drew lives in my Amy Hammond series. Which brings me to thanking everyone for all the nice feed back for Fair Winds and Calm Seas and For Better for Worse. I promise you haven’t seen the last of Mark Grant. Not by a long way.

So to finish with a picture before a weekend being domesticated and switching furniture around, and getting rid of the stuff that got scruffy while life got busy. Our bedroom is starting to look how I want it, and so is the kitchen, because I am lucky enough to live in a wonderful place so why would I want to leave? Instead, I’m aiming for a feeling of a comfortably lived-in but smart seaside cottage and to live at least part of every day as if I’m on holiday. The living room is in the early stages because I can’t quite see it yet, but it’ll come.

Take care, have a little of your sort of fun in your sort of way, and see you on Tuesday.