Happy Place

Reading has become precious to me. Books are where I go to unwind, absorb, even disappear for a time. It doesn't matter where I am, but if I can steal a few minutes inside a paperback then I will. I always carry a book around on the off-chance, hence my preference for rucksacks over handbags.

The prospect of a new book group starting at church was like a gift. I glowed with excitement and had the first scheduled books ordered within a few days. But as we neared the first meeting I felt nervous. It had been almost eight years since I'd been involved in a group discussion about a book. And reading a book critically is something I have a degree in. The point of a book group is to have a discussion. My main concern was that I would come and find that I had nothing to say. 

The new year saw a slow start to my reading. I only read one book in January, but February was more prosperous, as were the months that followed. The book group gave me a new incentive to read whenever I could.

And I loved it. From the very first meeting I flourished, joining in as much as anyone else present. I am there at every meeting and was recently encouraged to write an article about the group for the church magazine. My happy place will always consist of the written word. And now, at last, I've found some people locally to share this with.

Message in a Bottle

Life has been busy, time sparing, and progress slow. But mysteries have gradually unfurled themselves from the unyielding walls, and a message in a bottle seemed as good a reason as any to post an update. This is the second discovery I've made behind the walls, the first a bookcase built into the chimney breast, concealed by a piece of plasterboard in what is to be Moth's bedroom. 

More recently we've been working on the living room, stripping the old plaster back to the scratch coat and brushing a bond coat across the surface in the hope that someone will then come and replaster the walls for us. When I had finished my tasks for the evening, I decided to pry back the panel of plasterboard, stuck to the left of the fireplace that has always looked grotesquely out of place. We felt sure there must be something in behind because whenever we tapped it, there came a distinctly hollow echo.

The plasterboard came away without protest, as though it knew it didn't really belong there, to reveal a decorative alcove. But the biggest surprise lay within the alcove: an empty bottle of non-alcoholic fizz, distinctly labelled: "Message in a bottle". My heart was beating with anticipation as I called Sewel through to share my find. Our suspense increased as we paused to photograph our excavation before investigating further. Finally, I slipped out the scroll of paper concealed within the bottle and read. 

We had in our hands, not a clue to hidden gold alas, but words of greeting and encouragement from the previous owner, perhaps an even greater treasure. I shared the details of my discovery on Facebook and piqued the excitement and intrigue of a great many friends, who were delighted to hear a real-life account of something we only tend to read about in storybooks. But for me it's a comfort to know that our predecessor will approve of our renovation work as we transform the house into our family home. And it's a wonder to think that we will become a part of the history of this building, and somehow leave our mark on the place.