I was sitting at my desk in my study a few afternoons ago, mid July, enjoying the coolness of rooms within a stone-built farmhouse. Outside it was like an oven. Our builders were working on the other side of the "North Window" but I have soon adapted to shutting out the sound of the cement mixer, the drill, the tap-tap-tap of putting breeze-blocks in place, and their radio - which is not very loud anyway. Concentrating on the section I was writing - chapter twenty-one of On The Account - I looked up and thought, "That’s funny, it’s getting very dark. Not another storm coming in surely?"
Then I laughed. I hadn’t noticed that with the ground floor walls of the extension completed, the builders had moved to an upper floor; so we now have the joists of a ceiling constructed above my window. I will be moving my study to a lean-to-cum-conservatory once that bit is built, and the North Window will become open-plan between the old study - which will be turned into a new kitchen - and the new-built sitting room. I just hope my daughter and son-in-law like their home when it is finished in about four months’ time. You can follow progress on my Devon Diary.
Ron is also having to do some building. Kathy and Adam went out to purchase three new ducks to add to our little flock. What is the collective noun for ducks I wonder? A paddle of ducks? A quack of ducks? A waddle of ducks? They came back with three ducks and a goose. Why do we want a goose? Apart from to eat at Christmas, that is, except we all know that will never happen, especially as they are trying - unsuccessfully, I wasn’t born yesterday - to convince me that it is a special miniature goose.
So Ron is building a goose house. She's called Bernadette and is a funny little thing! When Kathy picks her up and brings her down to the house, she sees the dog, screams, "Help! Help! Help!" in goose language and hides her head under Kathy’s arm or chin, where she feels warm and safe, and I assume thinks that as she cannot see the dog, the dog cannot see her. Does anyone know if geese are related to ostriches?
I can quite understand, now, the origin of the phrase "Oh you are a silly goose" when someone is being ridiculously daft!
Talking of miniatures, we also have a miniature side saddle made for a rocking horse. It is one of only three that were made here in Devon. One was created as a commission to present to Queen Elizabeth II, another we have for sale on eBay (it might be sold by the time you read this) and we are keeping the third.
All three saddles are perfect to every detail, with all the girths and balance-straps. Our one has a Pelham bridle, with a real bit, and is also absolutely perfect, even down to tiny martingale stops on the reins. It now lives at the top of our stairs perched on our elderly rocking horse, Mushroom, who has, sadly, seen better days but is very much loved.
Mushroom was found abandoned beside a dustbin (trashcan) to be thrown away with the rubbish. Ron was then a Refuse Collector and Kathy was an eight-year-old who desperately wanted a rocking horse for Christmas because she couldn’t have a real pony. Unable to afford either, Ron pounced on this "find" and brought the poor bedraggled thing home. Parking (stabling?) the rocking horse with my neighbour to keep it a surprise for Christmas, I made a new mane and tail, painted his hooves and nostrils, patched up his bald spots to make him look like a piebald, and sewed a lovely red rug. Kathy’s face on Christmas morning was an absolute picture. One of those lurch-your-tummy memorable moments that mums and dads experience when they know they have given their child an everlasting treasure.
All these years later (twenty-four!) Mushroom is in desperate need of another overhaul. He could do with the gaping wound in his foreleg patching up – a result of a tiger bite. Well okay, truth be told, the family cat uses him as a scratching post. However, he pretends to be the Queen’s old side saddle horse, Burmese, and looks resplendent in a copy of a Royal Side Saddle. Even if it is far too big for him!
I have made a final decision this month: I am definitely going to the 2015 Historical Novel Society Conference in Denver, USA. My trip will include staying a few days with my cover and graphics designer, Cathy Helms, and spending the 4th of July 2015 in Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. I am already getting excited!
I will leave you here to enjoy August and to remind you that within the pages of a book everything you can imagine is real.
Lege feliciter (read happily).
Starting my July newsletter with bad news is not easy. Our little foal, a colt, was born in the early hours of June 10th 2014. Sadly, he passed away six days later. I’ll not go into detail here, but if you would like to see some photos of the dear little chap you’ll find them here.
Our grateful thanks to our vet, Jennifer, of Torch Equine at the Mullacott Centre who did all she could to save him – including sitting up all night.
On a brighter, but just as disruptive note, our Build has started - and stopped again as I write this. Good progress was made initially by Dan and the Gang, but everything has ground to a halt because delivery of the floor beams has been delayed. It seems that 2-3 weeks approximate delivery actually mean ‘at the end of three weeks…’
Oh well, it has also started raining so maybe it’s a good thing to not have builders with muddy boots tromping about the place.
Baz the dog loves the builders as they play with him during their tea and lunch breaks. He has learnt the sound of their van and goes potty of a morning waiting to be let out to scamper round to say hello. He knows the sound of most of the vehicles that use our lane and drive now. The neighbours’ cars ‘down the hill’ he completely ignores. Our car, ditto. Adam’s car, on the other hand, he goes barmy for, because it means “Adam’s home - time for a romp!”
He also completely ignores the postman. Postie turns round at the bottom of our drive and pulls up by our gate. He comes in through the gate, puts the post in our box, then goes away again (unless there is something to be signed for). Baz has learnt that the Postie isn’t going to play with him so there’s no point in getting excited because there’s no potential game in the offing. Clever dog, our Baz! The only problem with this is: I don’t always know when the postman has been.
The front garden is looking like a jungle. There are plants that definitely were not there last year – and some that were there, but on the left side and are now on the right (or vice-versa). The lane seems to be hedged by Triffids – or at least, their nettly, brambly cousins that swipe at you as you walk past.
The fruit trees are laden, including the Damsons, so more Damson Gin this autumn, and I just might have a go at making jam. Given my somewhat erratic achievements with cooking, however, this plan may prove highly interesting.
I had the pleasure of announcing a new award for Independent and Self-Published authors at the end of June. As Managing Editor for the Historical Novel Society Indie Reviews I have been working for some time to organise an HNS Indie Award for self/indie published historical fiction writers, and I am pleased to announce that the first annual Award will be made at the HNS London 2014 Conference in September.
Indie authors need the support of book-based societies like the HNS – I sincerely hope that other such eminent groups will soon follow our example. For more information go to my blog.
Also scheduled for July 2014, Kathy has a side-saddle demonstration to do at one of our local equestrian centres. The first one that she did last year was a success, so fingers crossed for this one. We have purchased two tailor’s dummies to take along to display two of her costumes – one of which is a genuine Victorian garment made originally circa 1885. For it's age it is in remarkably good condition. The dummies will also be used as wings for a jump – yes Kathy jumps while riding aside. I’ve given them both names: they are Miss Martha and Mable Propps - quite demure ladies as they do not say much.
Finally, you will all raise a cheer (I hope) to hear that the fifth Sea Witch Voyage On The Account is rattling along at quite a pace now. I have several scenes set on Exmoor – we can see the rounded top of Dunkery Beacon (1,705 feet) from the end of our lane, therefore almost a local setting. I wanted to write a little more about Jesamiah’s woman this time, and so she has the honour of opening this next adventure by scampering about in Exmoor… as you can read here.
Lege feliciter (read happily).
Whoever keeps hacking into my computer and surreptitiously adding to my already extensive ‘to-do’ file, please either stop or cross off a few of the entries as you browse the apparently endless list. Inexplicably, the darn thing seems to expand without me noticing, but it never seems to contract at all.
Part of the problem is that all the things on it are interesting; articles to write, blogs to update, newsletters to construct. That’s in addition to the everyday tasks of responding to e-mails, Facebooking, Tweeting and gazing out the window at the view and/or rain. And I haven’t mentioned actually writing the next Sea Witch Voyage – On the Account.
In addition to ‘work’ there are household Devonian-type things to attend to. Like the Friday morning trip to the Barnstaple Pannier Market. I’ve known about the market for several years; it was introduced to me by Jo, my fabulous editor, on one of my visits to her abode. I had no idea, then, that one day I would be living here! Husband Ron and I have discovered the most wonderful pie stall there. Fruit pies, vegetable pies, meat pies – the yummiest being a mixed meat and fruit, consisting of pork, bacon, pheasant, apricot – and well, to be honest, I can’t remember what else. It is absolutely delicious though, so has become a firm Friday Fixture. When we were there last Friday, I also bought a new hat - for £2.50 - and a suede skirt. Which isn’t quite as wide as I am, so we now have an excuse to go back next week and change it. Mind you it is probably the pies that are affecting the waist size!
We have also had the excitement of sorting out the soakaway for our cess pit (oh joy) and erecting new gates across the entrance to the stable yard. I doubt these will keep the pony in as he is expert at opening, climbing over, wriggling under or squeezing through gates and fences. Houdini would be a very appropriate name for the cuddly little monster.
Early June will see the start of our extension being built. The existing not very attractive extension, consisting of my study on the ground floor and a bedroom upstairs, will be transformed over the next few months into a self-contained flat. The study will become the kitchen, the bedroom a bathroom, with entrance porch and stairs, a sitting room - with log fire and patio doors overlooking the garden - and a larger bedroom.
But ‘What of your study?’ I hear you all gasp! Never fear, I am not going to be forced into a secluded dark corner, or a spider-infested shed to complete On The Account. We are adding a lean-to beyond the dining room which will be on the edge of the orchard and catch the morning and evening sunshine. In future years this will make a comfortable conservatory-type room, but for now it will be my cosy writing space. She said hopefully. I am not including the frequent visits by the chickens when they roam the orchard, or the distractions of the birds, wildlife, weather, views, and various family requirements.
Also eagerly anticipated is the birth of our mare’s first foal. Ishi is my son-in-law’s ex-racehorse and she is a sweetheart. Fingers crossed all goes well. You can find a couple of photos of her on my daughter’s Blog – scroll down the right-hand column, Ishi is thirteen and fourteen photos down. I expect when the foal comes I can persuade my webmaster to add a nice photo into the gallery.
I am on tenterhooks waiting the new arrival because the due date is any time between 6th June and 25th June. I am taking part in the Gedling Book Festival, Nottingham UK on the 20th June, so I will be away from home from the 20th to the 21st. If she has not foaled by then, I will apologise in advance to anyone in the audience who is brave enough (or who merely has time to kill) to come and listen to me yabbering on, for keeping my mobile phone switched on. It is the height of rudeness, of course, but there are circumstances where certain issues take precedence over giving a talk about "how to get good reviews for your Indie produced novel". Expecting a foal being one of them.
Which leads me into a superb link for my quote of the month above. At a recent conference someone paid me a compliment saying, ‘You are so bubbly and chatty – just like you are on Twitter.’ At least, I think it was a compliment.
Conferences, lectures, work-shops – any book-related events – are hard work. Being polite, making conversation with people you don’t know and answering questions can all be extremely tiring. The smile and the interest has to be genuine, or people will notice. So yes, the quote above is somewhat useful on occasion!
Lege feliciter (read happily).
I’ve had flu. Genuine, feels-like-I’ve-been-trampled-by-a-herd-of-stampeding-elephants-then- squished-by-a-steamroller type flu. The type where you crawl into bed and stay there for several days. In my case, about a week.
I missed the few days of beautiful weather that we had here in Devon. When I went to bed there were no leaves on the trees - now everything has burst into vibrant green life. The daffodils and primroses have finished; the bluebells, the tulips and unfortunately the weeds, have flourished instead. Weed-wise, if it has a pretty flower it can stay, but that sticky-stem stuff that chokes everything is starting to be the bane of my life. It gets everywhere. I do not advise pulling it up while wearing a fluffy jumper - I ended up covered in sticky stems!
The only nice thing about being poorly is being waited on with cups of tea and the occasional Tia Maria coffee, made with real Devon cream, which my son-in-law is a whizz at. He is also a fantastic cook, which is a bit of a godsend as I’m hopeless. I do try, but I always manage to mess up the art of getting food into and out of the cooker. While writing this, lamb shanks were supposed to be on the menu for the evening meal. I peeled the spuds, set them to cook, made sure the oven was on, and when they had boiled put them in to roast. Yum. Pity I forgot to put the meat in as well.
Being under the weather, I also missed out on a Blog Hop that I had organised for some of the SilverWood Books Ltd authors. I managed to put up my post, an article about Fictional Reality, but that was about all. Fortunately, author Debbie Young stepped into the breach and made sure the Hop hopped along efficiently. Read her excellent post about Chocolate and diabetes – most surprising. And my thanks to author and artist Peter St John who provided us with some colourful virtual Easter eggs to collect.
Peter writes the ‘Gang’ series of stories set during WWII about a boy who is evacuated to a small village near Ipswich; delightful stories that will bring pleasure to anyone who has memories of being evacuated, or for schoolchildren studying the Home Events of the war. Far more fun than dull history books.
I did manage to change my on-line photo image before I took to my bed. Visit the Home Page if you'd like to inspect it. The photo is a ‘selfie’ taken with my iPad whilst staying overnight at a hotel in Leicester, when I was attending a self–publishing conference as a guest speaker. (If you are interested, here is the gist of my talk.)
I always wear a hat these days – the brim helps to diffuse some of the light bouncing off my retina and therefore dazzling me. More often than not I now have a misty shadow over my vision. I describe it as "imagine entering a steamy bathroom." You can see quite clearly, except for all the steam in front of you. The only difference for me, I can’t clear the mist away. So I thought I would make a feature out of my hats, and update my website image at the same time. I’ve used the same photograph on Facebook, Twitter etc – apparently it is a good idea to use such things as a ‘brand’. Do let me know if you discover any live but out-of-date hatless photos anywhere, although I think I’ve tracked most of them down.
There has been another change to the website. Anyone spotted it?
H2U, which means ‘Helen to you’. Originally this was an idea for hidden pages, exclusive to those followers who signed up for the ‘secret’ link. All well and good, but the content was too well hidden and too secret. Nice idea, but it didn't fully work, so Mr Webmaster has pulled the Special Zone to the fore, putting it on the menu bar – and added some extra items of interest.
In addition to a couple of exclusive excerpts from unpublished work, you will find an animation of the Ripples In The Sand cover complete with the sound of the sea; a slide-show of Rural Devon with birdsong accompaniment; an Adventure in the Woods (no bears were harmed) and the Olympeck Games. Don’t forget to switch the sound on for all these - you will see the icon on the bottom menu bar - and read the accompanying captions that will pop up in the bottom right hand corner of the images.
As a corresponding Blog I have my H2U Newsletter where all my latest news and general information will be posted. You can subscribe to this page by email, so no more missing out on what I’ve been up to. As this month's quote says: they can’t touch you if you are doing something interesting. I enjoy sharing my various interesting days with you, and hopefully you enjoy reading about them!
Lege feliciter (read happily).
Phew! What a busy few weeks! I know I am always saying this recently, but March has been even more hectic than usual. I keep hoping for a quiet season, but I think the hope may be in vain.
Of course most of the hecticness (is that a word?) was due to Kathy and Adam's wedding. Which was a fabulous day. There are some unofficial photos from family and friends or a few of the official ones on my Devon Diary Blog.
We had a bit of a panic at home on the night before the wedding because our house guest, James, managed to get poked in the eye by a snooker cue while waiting to have dinner at a local pub. I was expecting a black eye the next morning, but he suffered a streaming eye instead. We did wonder about an eye patch and pirate outfit for him, but anxious that it might need medical attention we phoned the new 111 advice line. Fortunately the eye was quite a bit better than the evening before and was OK. I wasn't really looking forward to spending my daughter's wedding day in A&E!
A great treat for me, my good friend Mal (in fact my dearest friend) stayed on with us for an entire week after the wedding, in the official role of Keeper Of The Horses. I think he enjoyed playing ponies all day, and having the fun of running his own yard unmolested except by a bolshy Exmoor pony who always appears so cute at first glance!!
The most fortunate thing, for the wedding and the week after? It actually stopped raining!
March has also been taken up with finalising plans for an extension we're having built. The West Wing extension is to be further extended, so it will have four rooms instead of the present two (two up, two down) and should make a nice flat for Kathy and Adam, or Ron and I as we get older. Our wedding present to the happy couple!
Not looking forward to all the noise and disruption though, not when the loudest thing we hear at the moment is the cock pheasant squawking, or the owls hooting. I guess I'll have to find the charger for the laptop and disappear down into the woods to write come the Build. Fingers crossed the rain stays away.
Still, by Christmas 2014 all should be finished. She said with everything crossed.
I'm getting ready, as I write this, to gallivant off to Leicestershire for a self-publishing conference being organised by Matador Books.
They are not my publisher, which is SilverWood Books, but as I was asked to attend and do a talk about reviewing Historical Fiction, in my capacity as Managing Editor of the Historical Novel Society Indie Reviews, and also as expenses are paid, I thought 'Why not?' It's always good to get out and about to meet fellow writers and readers, especially if I can simultaneously promote Indie publishing. I'll probably be doing the same sort of thing at the HNS London Conference in September this year - and, here's the really exciting bit, very possibly at the HNS 2015 conference in Denver Colorado USA.
I passed through Denver back in August 2008 when I visited the USA and went by train from San Francisco to Colonial Williamsburg via Chicago and Washington. The journey up through the Rockies was fabulous, and we spent about half an hour at Denver Station, so it would be nice to see more of that lovely city than just the platform.
I have very fond memories of that trip: meeting Connie in San Francisco and spending a wonderful week with her. Meeting Jansy and Susan and her family, and Joyce - and everyone else - at Salt Lake city, then on to Williamsburg where I stayed with John and Cathy Millar of Newport house B&B and where I might well stay again if I go on this 2015 trip. May as well do a bit of a tour round!
John and Cathy are lovely people and often help me out with information if I need it, from sailing detail to beekeeping! The latest help was in the form of advice about a suitable dance for the present Sea Witch voyage that I am writing - On The Account. John and Cathy host English Country Dancing, which is based around historical dance (Think sexy dance scene in the Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice TV drama). I wanted a dance that was subtly erotic: Tiola is dancing with a rival for Jesamiah's affections. Hah! I will say no more, the rest is a secret!
Talking of dancing, Kathy and Adam had the most wonderful violinist playing for the wedding ceremony and afterwards. Finding the main room empty while the last of the photographs were being taken, Ron and I had a sneaky dance together. Somewhat ruined by me bursting into giggles and quoting the judges on Strictly Come Dancing: "Shoulders Dahling, and feet - feet!"
Which is where I shall end this April Newsletter, and repeat the current quote: You shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, say it often.
I am so proud of my beautiful daughter and her wonderful new husband.
I love you both.
Lege feliciter (read happily).
|I am writing this a few days before the end of the month because the beginning of March is going to be very busy - and very exciting.
Kathy is getting married to Adam. And a nicer son-in-law I could not wish for!
I'm going to break with tradition, make this news journal short and add further information in a few days' time after the wedding, so I can share the (hopefully!) lovely day.
Addendum: Due to the demands of a certain pirate - and at last writing a few more chapters - the concluding part of this post will be featured in the April Newsletter. Suffice to say, a Good Time was had by All!
Adam met Kathy several years ago and asked her out. Because of circumstances, that initial date did not lead to others, and they moved on to different relationships.
Six years later, both of them on their own again, they re-met. Unfortunately we were about to move from London to Devon. That didn't bother Adam, who had made up his mind that he wasn't going to lose Kathy a second time.
Once we had moved he motored down from London every weekend, then almost a year ago in March 2013 he moved in with us, got a job in Exeter and proposed. Lovely.
Adam used to read this journal (not sure if he still does!) and I had included him in the November 2006 entry although at the time I did not know who the young man was. I remembered the entry, though - and so did Adam.
I had written and published Sea Witch, Pirate Code was being written, and Kathy was happy to dress as a pirate: Jack Sparrow and my Jesamiah Acorne were well and truly spreading their influence.
This is the relevant entry:
Now Adam knows that a fictional pirate resides in the house alongside us, albeit mainly in my study, and as part of the family, he has become part-pirate by entering into the spirit of Kathy's side saddle costume classes.
Click 'ere m' hearties t'see the fine lad in all 'is piratical paradin'!
And this month's quote is not correct. You will be hearing a lot about the hero after he has married my princess!
Lege feliciter (read happily).
The person who invents the 36 hour day will make a fortune. Or maybe someone who can really multi-task - like Hermione in one of the Harry Potter movies. She manages to manipulate time so that she can be in two places at once and therefore do two things at once. I could do with a magic gadget like that!
I am supposed to be getting on with the next Jesamiah novel. (titled On The Account) And I am well aware that I have been saying this for months now. The reason I have not written more than three chapters is because I am drowning in my somewhat extensive ‘to do’ list.
Has anyone any idea how such lists manage to double during the course of a week, even though you were positive you were managing to clear it?
Take the other day for example: Ron sets off for his annual jaunt to the huge Pigeon Show held in Blackpool. Everyone who is anyone in the pigeon racing world goes to Blackpool. This year Ron signed up to go by coach with the Pigeon People of Devon, which is nice because he wanted to meet more of the local Fanciers. I, meanwhile, was looking forward to a weekend of ‘me time’. A chance to get on with Jesamiah's next adventure as a priority, and catch-up with some missed Dr Who episodes on DVD as a second.
What a silly idea! First, take Baz for a walk. We actually had a lovely time wandering up through our woods, investigating all the new spring growth which is determined to think it is March, not January. Baz and I had a paddle in the raging torrent that is our stream, and we poked about at some debris clogging up the waterfall. Baz enjoyed chasing a squirrel, even though it cheated and ran up a tree, thus spoiling the fun. I very nearly lost a wellie in the mud - all very enjoyable, except it was raining. Again. Not ordinary get-you-wet rain. This was pouring like a hose turned on full. Soak-you-through-to-the-bone rain.
By the time we got back to the house we were one very soggy doggy and owner. So: Dry the dog. Hot shower. Elevenses. Get my breath back. Respond to e-mails. Write the last of the articles I was asked to do. Edit the one I had completed the day before. Answer the phone. Answer the door and sign for a parcel. Answer another phone call. Deal with more e-mails, suddenly urgent... Do you get the picture?
With all that eventually completed I settled down to write. The phone rang again. It was Kathy calling from the stable yard at the other end of the garden. Could I come up? Lexie has cut herself.
Several hours later, after the vet had been, after we arranged transport for Lexie to go to Vet Hospital (Ron not being here, and Adam at work so therefore no one to drive our horsebox) I was too tired and stressed to think of enough words to write a shopping list let alone my fifth pirate adventure!
The following weekend (25th/26th January) I was unable to write because I had the pleasure of an adventure in Bristol. Helen Hart of SilverWood Books Ltd had arranged for an Author's afternoon at Bristol Foyles in Cabot Circus, followed by a meal in a nearby restaurant.
The afternoon was superb, with the bookshop full of people - and not all of them SilverWood authors, although there were quite a few there. It was fabulous to be able to put real faces to on-line names: Alison Morton, Anna Belfrage, Harriet Grace, Peter St John, Paul Connolly, Ed Hancox, Mike Willis and many more.
My thanks to Helen Hart, Joanna and Emily for organising it all, and to Robb at Foyles for having the faith to agree to the event. Hopefully, as it was a great success there may be others - a huge boost to the respectability of quality Indie published books. It was the best thing I ever did, joining up with SilverWood.
I was also stunned by an amazing coincidence. Emily, who has recently started working for SilverWood, used to live in Devon. In a North Devon village. Yes, you've guessed it. My village!
So, after all that excitement, we have Lexie back home feeling sorry for herself with a deep puncture wound just above her knee. She has to stay in because our fields have a fantastic crop of Mud (it still hasn't stopped raining) and we are all going to be very busy in early March as we have a wedding in the family - but more of that in the next newsletter.
So, if I can possibly ignore all the things clamouring to be attended to, set off on the right path and follow the right track (preferably a dry, sunny one) I might be able to get a few more paragraphs written before the end of this month. My pirate is waiting so patiently for me...
Anyone know which way it is to the sea?
Lege feliciter (read happily).
I cannot believe that an entire year has gone!
15th January 2013 was the day the removal men came to start packing up our old home; the 17th January, we left London for the last time and drove to the hotel in what is now our Devon Village. That night, it snowed. and snowed. and snowed. On Friday the 18th, Ron and I woke up to find Devon had turned white.
The (then) hotel owners - the place has since been sold - invited us to their own dwelling for breakfast because the chef couldn't get in to work. I waited anxiously to hear from the removal men who were somewhere in Exeter with the contents of our home.
By 9 a.m Pickfords Removals had started transferring our contents from the big artic lorry to a smaller transit - essential because the lane to the house is narrow.
By 10 a.m we had started moving in, despite the cold and the snow.
A somewhat chaotic and tiring day followed, but most of the furniture was in by dusk. We had arranged to go back to the hotel that night though, just in case the beds hadn't been put in to our new home, or the food boxes had not been unpacked (they hadn't!).
And again we were kindly invited by the High Bullen owners to dine with them that evening. What a fantastic welcome to Chittlehamholt! Thank you Jane and Martin.
Saturday 19th January, the last of the furniture was in. We were the new owners of what I call online "Windfall Farm" - not its real name. The dream of a lifetime had come true.
Kathy and the horses, meanwhile, had been delayed in London. There was no way that a horsebox would have been safe to travel. By the time the snow cleared here in Devon - mid-week - it was thick snow in London, so Kathy and the horses didn't join us until the following weekend.
My main memories from those first few days?
Piles of cardboard boxes.
The darkness of that first night - we hadn't found the outdoor light switches!
The central heating going off because the switch operating the electric pump to the Range had been switched off - and how lovely and warm it soon got when we realised the error and turned it on again.
The moonlight on the snow.
The red deer in the field next door.
The owls calling.
Badgers fighting in the woods (a very scary sound!)
The first snowdrops appearing, and then the primroses and violets.
I still have not fully taken in that we live here, that this is our home, that it is all ours. Every so often I think that tomorrow we will have to pack up and go home. you know, like when you are on holiday and the week has almost gone.
And yes, I continue to have a few tears of joy when I walk down the lane of an evening with Baz and see out farmhouse lights twinkling through the hedges.
A lot has happened in the year that has just gone, and a lot will be happening in 2014. Kathy and Adam will be getting married, and I have numerous book-related conferences to attend. Hopefully there will be several good friends coming to stay at various times during the year and Ishi will be having her foal and I might actually get the next Sea Witch Voyage written - if I can tear myself away from looking out the windows, walking in the woods or generally enjoying my new home.
I love it here. I have waited so many, many years to live where my heart wanted to be, in the country. Living here has made me realise how very unhappy I was in London. There is a Devonian saying that when God threw Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden, he sent them to Devon instead. And Devon is Heaven.
What else is awaiting around the bend? Who knows? But I can verify that even if six out of seven dwarves are not happy - I certainly am!
Happy New Year everyone.
Lege feliciter (read happily).