Dearest Elaine
Well, here we are in Devon in mid-January. Oh the horrors of
a wet winter! I don’t think I have ever
seen so much rain pouring out of the sky as we have had in the last four weeks,
and it’s still coming – but not today. There is a bright blue sky as I write to
you, and when I glanced across at Dartmoor earlier it rolled across the horizon,
vivid and clear enough to touch...
I am working hard on 'The Illandrian Diamonds'. It has spread
out, both in my mind and on cyber-paper, like an enormous sheet of patchwork.
Sometimes I grapple with it, searching fold after fold for the bit I have
missed, then finding it but failing to link the correct colour or pattern – or so
it seems. I am in two minds about Leo, my 14-year-old boy of mixed parentage.
Mark, his father, loves him already even though he has only just discovered
him, and will defend him to the end. But is Leo on the side of the angels, or
is there something dark lurking behind those glittering pale eyes so like his
mother’s? I want him to be the one who saves them all, but I think that he has
a more sinister side. We shall see. Meanwhile the Illandrians continue to be
infuriatingly naive and Helen struggles
on...
Alfred |
As the Winter Olympics approach I recall my hopes to come
out to see you four years ago, and the huge disappointment of realising that it
was simply, financially, beyond us. When you discover a far-flung relative, and
you eventually meet them, you are unprepared for the bond which may flash into
existence between you. Perhaps we were lucky, and this does not always happen?
From the moment we met at the airport it was as though I had discovered the
sister I never had, the best friend I knew might exist. Our grandfathers were
brothers, so we share our great-grandparents. Your grandfather, Alfred was born
9th February, 1868; my grandfather, Reece was born 31st
January, 1871.
Reece |
What
have we inherited from them? I leave this question for another time. I amuses
me to think that both of them came late to parenthood – as did both of our
fathers, as a result of which we have grandfathers who we could not hope to
have known, Reece dying in 1938 and Alfred in 1951.
I am juggling my writing life with my new obsession:
knitting. I discovered Ravelry, where you can record all of your projects as
well as discuss crafts – and many other subjects – and get ideas; and where a
vast number of people knit socks. My latest project is an Icelandic sweater,
rather daunting in its complicated design, but when approached with something
like relaxed amusement, most enjoyable! It is hard though, and I have struggled
to translate little black and white dots on a grid into black and bright purple
stitchery which approximately resembles snowflakes. Or not.
Write to me! I send love...