My Week in Pictures

In which I leave the house and catch a plane to Ireland

Hello,

Let’s begin with the easy bits. Summer is marching on, and my garden is fried to a crisp because it’s hardly rained all year. My swift nesting box is occupied by actual swifts for the second year running (for the first decade, it only hosted sparrows). I realised we had hatchling swifts from the very particular high-pitched squeak they make, which sounds like someone nearby has a whistling nostril, but all the time, for weeks. Nature may be a mircale, but sometimes in a slightly annoying way. Anyway, I’m so glad their numbers seem to have rallied in our street lately, and I was excited to see their little heads peeping out of the box over the weekend. There is only the merest hint of baby swift in this picture, and I’m afraid you’ll have to squint and/or take my word for it.

Bibi the cat has devoted her entire life to sitting on the windowsill, watching them, even though she has no hope of ever reaching them. She tried to take down a seagull on the conservatory roof a few days ago, and it made the most ungodly noise before she staggered inside, looking shaken. I think she might have learned her lesson. Fraggle is no more sensible; she’s adopted a microphone muff, which she washes and sleeps with. I guess they look alike?

Despite my animal friends, I found last week quite difficult. H had improved a bit the week before, but then felt worse again. I think I’d got optimistic that I’d finally get some help around the house, and then it didn’t really happen and I felt a little despairing. I was trapped in an endless cycle of housework, and it’s hot, and I don’t cope well with being kept away from my writing.

Also, I was worrying about my first public engagement since H got sick. I’d been invited to appear at the West Cork Literary Festival earlier in the year, and although I wasn’t really planning to do any events until autumn, I couldn’t resist. A few days on the stunning Cork coastline talking about books? Er, yes please.

As the time approached, I really wasn’t sure if I could make it work. But I also knew I had to get back out there at some point. H was certain he could look after himself as long as I took Bert with me, so that’s what we did. We left H with a fridge full of ready meals and all tried to be brave.

Bantry is gorgeous. This is the view from my hotel balcony:

I’d seen how much rain was forecast there and took it with a pinch of salt, but they were not joking. Kent may have given up on rain, but County Cork has not, and I am a bit delighted by it. Inevitably, I had to make my usual holiday purchase of a pac-a-mac, because I never manage to bring one with me. Here I am, acting as a weathervane.