I am sitting typing by the window to my garden which is shut, because two doors up Tony who bought the bungalow on the end of this row is having more work done. It always seems to be drilling into concrete somehow. The woman next door is sandblasting her paving stones and mowing what little grass she has left, across the road foundations are being put in for an extension to the bungalow opposite. For a sleepy little village in the Cotswolds there is always lots of noise, someone is always building something!
Last week though, in Cornwall, was quiet. I could hear birds singing, horses neighing, and the rustle of trees.
Just around the corner from our campsite was St Michaels Mount, resplendant under blue skies sitting in pale soft sands. The gulls reeled overhead and boats sailed past quietly.
We visited the art gallery in Sennen Cove and walked along the sandy beach. Again just the rush of the sea turning pebbles over onto the beach and breakers hitting the rocks.
It seems the seaside is quieter than a tiny village in Oxfordshire which is desperately trying to "come up." We only planned to stay here a couple of years, do the place up and leave, but illness, Brexit, and other unexpected events forced us to stay.
I don't hate it. Here's my garden in early spring:-
I just want to be able to sit in my garden without earplugs - that would be nice - but even nicer would be to live in Cornwall again. I didn't realise how much I missed it, knew it, loved it, and needed to be back on really familiar ground again.
I started life in London, then moved to Hertfordshire, then Buckinghamshire, then Northamptonshire, and now Oxfordshire. But Cornwall is home to me, there's no logic to it I know, but I have a pull inside me when I'm away from it that no other place has given me.
If we could sell up here I'd go back tomorrow. It's a real place, for example Cornishmen call a dwarf a dwarf - they even have dwarf Olympics! And the people who take part are proud to do it! The Cornish don't change their past or their ways to suit the times, they are and always will be awkward sods, and I can't wait to go back!
I'm supposed to be on holiday - but I never seem able to stop. I found out yesterday that my new book 1955 see below:
Was listed as 113 in the Amazon Storytellers competition - there is over a thousand entries - but I need to be in the top 100 to be read by the judges. So I am giving it away FREE for five days starting Saturday. What takes it up the ratings are reviews. Please download and review - be truthful - as it helps me become a better writer. But obviously not too harsh as I won't be considered! Write to me on my authors page if you want!
What do I win? An Amazon promotion worldwide. Fingers crossed.
This year I have written three books, entered new stories into prestigious competitions and brought out the Hilary Long Stories in paperback which is in the proof reading stage at the moment. Here it is:
Here's the back with some reviews:
Today I'm supposed to be on holiday, but I can't stop working. I've forgotten how to have a holiday. It doesn't help that I hurt, I have a flare up of rheumatoid arthritus due to the trendy new virus that laid low the Queen and Elton John. I'm on my super strong painkillers today
so at least I'm upright!
I have a big world to get out into and I have to get well to do it. I have to put the lap top down. STEP AWAY FROM THE LAPTOP !!
I have time for these poor creatures, many of my friends hate them in their gardens but I don't, I feed them alongside the other birds.
Meet Julius a war decorated hero.
This is his kit, he flew taking messages with all this stuff to save HUMAN lives.
White pigeons, decorative, kept in dovecotes in Manor Houses, for food, eggs and message carrying, in the 15th, 16th, 17th century. Pigeons kept the poor from starvation.
These poor inoffensive birds bring wonderful restful cooing sounds to my garden, they used to bring tourists to Trafalagar Square in London, but pigeons are no longer there. They have been destroyed.
In the 1970s when I lived in London there was a running joke - Keep London Clean - Eat a Pigeon!
In the North of England Racing and Homing pigeons provide big business and lots of pleasure for people.
So please don't decry the humble pigeon, they have a reason to be here, and without them
some of us wouldn't be.
Yesterday I got a new car!
Well new to me anyway, and many years younger than Ruby, my old Kia Sportage. It's a silver Mitsubushi Outlander with black leather seats and it has blue tooth on board phone and a panic alarm, it talks in a cultured English voice and is automatic. It has a 200 page instruction book on all the other stuff that it does as well.
I'm a bit scared of it!
Also, yesterday my new book 1955 went up on the electronic shelves of Amazon Kindle,
and my dear long-suffering husband designed this 50s detective noir cover for me.
I've been entered for the Amazon Storyteller competition, and I'm a bit scared of that as well.
I don't know why having such good things happen gives me the heebie jeebies - it's like I can't trust it and it will all be taken away as it was a mistake!
I've been trying to feel the fear and do it anyway, and got stuck outside the butchers as the car sat refusing to work for me! I had to call the garage and they said I'd not followed all the correct procedures and so it locked me out!
My own car locked me out!
I have to go to the supermarket today - it's all a bit Mother Hubbard in my kitchen - so off I go. I may be some time!
Read the first few pages of my new book free, or buy it it's on special offer for 99p. Please review it, it gives me a better chance in the competition.
Thank you everyone.
