Too hot to work 30 in the house!

I did the housework from 7am to 9.30 am today while it was cool.

I've been writing ever since. It's been hard work I feel like I'm melting. My poor cats have stuffed themselves under the hedges in the garden.

I wish I was back in Cornwall. I could walk down to the beach and put my feet in the cool sea. Watch the tourists turn lobster red and blistery from a day in the sun.

The weekend is coming up, it's going to get hotter. I want to go back to my Cornish house with the cold granite walls and walk barefoot on the cold kitchen floor. I want to hear the gulls scream over the garden and see my laundry dry rock hard on the line.

All day here there has been drilling and sawing, I feel like I'm living on a Trading Estate not in a village. In a close with ten houses, we have a man who sells cars from his drive. A busy child-minder, a motorbike team, one empty house, and a person who seems to spend all day cutting granite with a saw.  Ear splitting.

Apart from that there is the noise from the building site next to the school. Yet another new estate. Sometimes my paintings on my wall wobble when they are working there.

The front of the house is like a car park. 15/16 cars most days.

In Cornwall there were cows, a sea view, a blustery garden. Privacy. Room to breathe.Room to walk. Friends.

I have friends here but even though I am closer, visits are rare. I spend a lot of my time on my own writing. Trying to get my book finished and hoping that perhaps this one will be the one that makes the big money.

Falmouth earlier this year. We keep going back, time and again. Soothes the soul.

I need big skies, blue green seas, quiet.  I need room to breathe I need the air not to burn.

I need to go home.