The first day of August tomorrow. Once more the weeks have flown by. July; the most predictable thing about this month is that weather -wise it is always unpredictable. Here in the East Riding of Yorkshire we have had a month of thunderstorms, sunny spells, a deluge of rain and glorious sunshine.
July is the month for garden parties. I have been to two, both in aid of local charities, Dove House Hospice and a Scanner Appeal. One which I have mentioned previously, organized by Probus in the garden of Jim and Gill Stansfield was a water world spectacular: the Morris dancers and the local dance school were both jolly and delightful and with a 'show must go on' enthusiasm in spite of the pouring rain. They gained great applause from the welly booted, mackintosh clad audience. Amazing how the Brits seem to thrive on adverse weather conditions! I'm sure money was made for the charities and a great deal of effort was put into the day to ensure its success.
The following Sunday was different again. In a delightful private garden in Hotham, we enjoyed brilliant sunshine and I for one wondered if I was wearing enough suncream. We were entertained with live music and ate a mouth watering picnic courtesy of Tina Cerrutti and many lucky people went away with some excellent raffle prizes. No, not I, but never mind, I enjoyed the day.
Last week, I was recorded on video for You Tube which is now up and running. It's very odd that I have no difficulty in speaking to an audience, either for recording or live, but speaking into a camera is quite different and I am very critical of myself. Voices too sound different; I can hear the northern-ness in my voice, but whether it is West or East Yorkshire I can't decide, probably a little bit of both although having lived most of my life in East Yorkshire I suspect that is where my accent hails from -- sorry Castleford!
Speaking of which, I have received an invitation from my old Castleford school now re named the Henry Moore Smawthorne Lane School, to visit them sometime in the autumn term. It will be lovely to go back again and to meet up with people from the town of my birth. The last time I was there was to attend the centenary of the library. The town has changed enormously since I lived there as a child; the pit head has gone and in its place the Xscape, the dairy across the road from my granny's house has housing in its place. But the people remain the same, warm and friendly.
My copy edited manuscript of THE HARBOUR GIRL came back for checking last week so I have spent each day at my kitchen table re reading it before it goes off for printing. I haven't seen it since I sent it off to my editor back in February and as I have been in the process of creating another novel with new characters, during the re reading of it I find I can read it in a more detached way than I could whilst writing it. Although I must admit to spilling a few tears. How emotional we authors become over our characters.
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