Posted by Tania Kindersley.
Today there were sudden gales, squalls of rain, moments of glittering sunshine. My cousin and I went for a ride along fields of incongruously high corn (in November?) and through a hidden green valley. We saw four deer loping solemnly along in single file as if they had an appointment to keep, and a high buzzard looking for its prey. The dogs swam in a thin brook and dug for moles and made havoc in the hedgerows.
For dinner, I made sausages with onion gravy, olive oil mash, and a little mixture of carrots, celery and mange tout. My godson felt ill, so I made him some tomato soup, for its curative value. The baby made jokes about the dogs. (She is only twenty months old, but she already has a keen sense of humour.)
Oh, and I did a piece of work. My friend C called, for love and business. 'I'm up against a HARD deadline,' I shouted. 'Yes, yes, yes,' he shouted back. Then we talked for twenty minutes, because five is never enough, and sod the hard deadline.
And now the house is asleep, and there is only the sound of the wind sucking and blowing against the window panes, and the low yip of one of the dogs chasing rabbits in her sleep, and the slight ship-at-sea creak that comes with old houses and wooden floorboards. I adore this family life. It is entirely exotic to me. I choose to live alone, and soon I shall crave solitude again, and go back north. But for now, I would not be anywhere else in the world.