Amandababble Week Thirty-Three
I’m in ENGLAND!!!!! Yes, I am at my mum’s where the wind is blowing and the rain is lashing the house. We have flood and tide surge warnings in place and the ground is muddy and the air bl**dy freezing! The boiler is on the blink, the traffic horrendous, telly is rubbish and I have a laundry mountain that resembles Everest (without the frozen sick) BUT I am so so happy to be here!
Like a favourite chipped mug, a warm jumper with a hole in it or an old pillow with a dent where your head lies, this country is far from perfect but it’s my country and I LOVE IT!
I walked into the local shop this morning to get some milk and was greeted with this,
‘Mawnin’ Mand.’
‘Ah, morning Mrs H, how are you?’
‘yep, fine thanks my lover, you okay today?’
‘Yes, thank you, I’ve been away!’
‘‘Ave you? What f’the weekend?’
I haven’t set foot inside that shop for nearly five months! This is what is ace about the West Country.
Funny to think that a couple of days ago we were in New Zealand, which I thought was stunning and majestic, rolling green hills and winding roads with mountains on one side and the sea on the other, spectacular! And some places so remote and isolated. I think my son summed it up, when we passed through one particularly deserted town, there wasn’t a soul in sight, no cars, no shop open, a couple of garages with broken neon and a stray dog. I looked at my watch and asked, ‘what time is it?’ My son looked at his and repelled, ‘I think its 1953!’ It made me laugh and felt blissfully stress free. Every Kiwi I met was friendly, welcoming and warm and all that space! Wow!
It was so so wonderful to spend time with the boys and it made me realise how very much I have missed their company. They are a constant wonder to me. We have laughed and laughed. I look at these tall, confident young men and feel a surge of pride and love for them every time. I am so very blessed.
Work-wise it was a very successful trip, every bookshop I went into had big Amanda Prowse displays and that was surreal, but wonderful to see.
The journey home was horrible! An 8 hour drive to Auckland airport then a 13 hour flight to Hong Kong, 4 hours waiting at HK followed by another 13 hour flight to London. We picked up a hire car, drove to my parents house in Bristol in howling gales and rain, to find we were locked out of the house – no keys! And my parents were with my brother in London. A nightmare. I sat in the car and cried with exhaustion, which is never helpful! While the Major and the boys devised a way to break in – we got in eventually. I then shoved a wash load into the machine and tumble-dried it, without realising that the Major’s wallet was in his pocket. I have destroyed all his bankcards, driving license, army I.D etc… I wasn’t very popular!
I have never ever had jet lag this badly. I wake at 4.30am and am zingy with energy and then at 3pm want to sleep. We are all walking around like zombies, fighting the urge to succumb to sleepppzzzzzzz….. What? Oh! Sorry about that, just nudge me if it happens again.
I am bubbling with writing energy and have been tip-tapping away since we got back three days ago; my new novel is taking shape and I LOVE it!
‘A Little Love’ continues to receive fantastic reviews and they are heartfelt. There is no better compliment than reading how someone enjoyed my story, thank you to everyone who has left a review – they mean the world to me.
Boys are back to school next week and after a few days here I will be on my travels again… will keep you posted. I feel like a nomad.
I am going to make a cuppa and watch the street from behind the net curtains upstairs. I shall note the comings and goings of cars and listen to the kids walk by with illicit fags and cans of cider. I shall watch the old lady at the end take her dog for a wee up my mum’s wall and I shall listen to the leaves rustling on the branches in the wind. The rain will run in a gully along the kerb, clogged with litter and I shall feel at peace because I am home. Home. If there is anywhere nicer, I am yet to find it.
Stay warm and dry.
Mandy xx
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