We moved hear just over six months ago. Our house is a delight. It’s modern but cosy and my study is the third bedroom and the messiest room in the house. But when I shut the door and shut the world out it feels good.
I lived in Hampshire for over twenty years. It is a pretty county and the weather is often benign. Yet since we’ve lived here, the weather has been better than in the South of England. We avoided all of that snow which crippled most of the rest of the country in early 2009.
Last week, even, I left an 18° C Manchester to go to a 11° Romsey and left a cool damp south east to return to a16° Manchester the next day. In addition, I was glad to get back to the more rugged beauty of the Lancashire moors.
From our bedroom we can see a lake, between the houses, and then beyond that into Yorkshire. Wild geese regularly fly over our house. The vibrant cities of Manchester and Liverpool are a short drive away. I work in Salford, a city in its own right and a short walk from the middle of Manchester. It too has a cultural vibrancy, though more rugged than what I’m used to.
It’s an odd thing to do when you’re in your mid fifties. But I think it has spiced up the writing and the writer’s process.
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