I realise that I haven’t added anything to this blog for nearly four months. There are two reasons why.
First, I’ve been busy moving house, spending most of my spare time trying to pack a lifetime’s paraphernalia into cardboard boxes, alongside dealing with all of the usual legal stuff.
Second, my role as a ‘carer’ has become all-consuming, leaving me little time for anything else (other than packing cardboard boxes). I can’t write about it because, aside from making rather depressing reading, it would violate my sons’ privacy. All I can say is that it is very challenging and there are times when I worry that the best part of my life is over and there is little to look forward to. I would love to work again, but it’s impossible at the moment unless I can do something at home.
Thankfully, I’m very happy with our new house. We have swapped our Victorian terraced home in the centre of Lewes for a modern one on the outskirts that has far more space. I have a nook at the top of the house where I can sit and read and my wife has a space where she can get dressed in the morning without being disturbed by anyone. It may not be the Georgian rectory that we’d always dreamed of, but in some ways it’s a relief to have a home that requires such little maintenance.
I have read some very good books this year and out of all the new novels I bought, my top five were as follows:
The Lie of the Land – Amanda Craig
Home Fire – Kamila Shamsie
Force of Nature – Jane Harper
Beautiful Animals – Laurence Osborne
The End We Start From – Megan Hunter
I also discovered some great backlist novels that have been rather neglected, including these five:
The Rack – A.E. Ellis
Into the Forest – Jean Hegland
It Can’t Happen Here – Sinclair Lewis
The Evenings – Gerald Reve
Sister Carrie – Theodore Dreiser (less neglected than the others, admittedly)
With my movements restricted to the point where I’m largely housebound (thanks to a child who can’t go out at the moment), I’m short of material and time, so I don’t think there will be much blogging in 2018. However, I will Instagram my fleeting moments of freedom.
Perhaps it will all change next year. I live in hope.