Don’t we all have a skill we yearn to learn but have never quite got round to mastering?
When I entered the job market post-university, one of the first things I did was to learn to touch-type. That skill has been a boon in every job I’ve ever had, using every generation of technology from the electric typewriter to the electronic tablet.
In this month’s column for the Tetbury Advertiser, I was getting overexcited at the prospect of a fresh start
There will never come a September that doesn’t shout “back to school” at me. Although it’s a long time since I left school, I’ve never lost awareness of the academic year.
This isn’t only because supermarkets start badgering parents to shop for the autumn term before the summer holidays even start. Nor it is because I spent thirteen years of my adult life working in a school, or because I write novels set in a boarding school (first in series is Dastardly Deeds at St Bride’s, published by Boldwood Books).
Last month, the need to replace my faithful old black car – and the dearth of any more colourful ones in my price range – inspired me to write about car colours in my column for the July/August double edition of the Tetbury Advertiser.
When did British car buyers become so dreary? Shopping for a second-hand car to replace my defunct Fiat Panda, I’m astonished to find the choice of colour so limited.
Decluttering features in my next novel, Death at the Little Curiosity Shop, the start of my new cosy mystery trilogy – and it’s been front of mind lately for other reasons too, as I explain in my June column for the Tetbury Advertiser.
***You’ll find a sneak preview of Death at the Little Curiosity Shop – and a link to preorder it – at the foot of this post. ***
On return from a few days in Suffolk, where I’ve been helping my 93-year-old aunt declutter her house, my cottage seems terribly crowded. Having lived here for 33 years, I’ve allowed far too much stuff to accumulate.
Conscientious about recycling things like packaging and kitchen waste, I’m not so hot at disposing of items of purely sentimental value. I hoard amusing scribbles by my toddler daughter who has just turned 21. Ornaments from my childhood home lie tucked away in a storage box. A long-empty bottle of my late grandmother’s perfume lurks in my dressing-table drawer.
In my article for the April issue of the Tetbury Advertiser, I ponder the different definitions of Spring.
After the wettest winter that I can remember, I’ve been looking forward more than ever to the spring.
January and February are in any case my least favourite months, so I’m always glad when 1st March comes around. But this year, I’m particularly pleased because I’ve just discovered that meteorologists count it as the first day of spring.
