In a novel, there's always a convenient jumping off point. In life, it's all so much more blurred and continuous isn't it? I probably should have started this blog when I left London, when my life changed, and history, and solitude, and countryside, and a million period property restoration techniques and products I'd never heard of, became my world.
But it was all too raw and new to be able to dissect it, so I wove my terror into a giant tapestry for 9 months, then stuffed it into a blanket box and forgot about it.
Now I have space and peace enough to disentangle everything that's happened at Beacon Cottage and before and share my thoughts with a warm laptop and maybe a few dear and familiar faces.
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Where's one of those yawning smileys when I need one? Is this going to be one of those done-to-death "OMG there's no Maison Blanc in this village" aga sagas? If so, don't bother.
ReplyDelete"A few dear and familiar faces" is not a happy choice of expression. You are not Charlotte Bronte penning the Chronicles of Angria for her giggling siblings. Don't forget dearie this is the 21st century and there will be people who read this blog with no desire but to make mincemeat of you.
With your best interests at heart.
Mrs Carper