Two weeks ago I read at the Wordsworth Trust. It was a great reading, shared with all my Writing School friends – some very different poets and poems, but all of them impressive. Everyone was very complimentary about my book.

A week ago I was living in a Roundhouse owned by the National Trust at Ickworth, Suffolk, in the heart of woodland, watching the first butterflies of Spring (the very first was a tortoiseshell, the others mainly brimstones), with startled deer in the garden and a visit to the tumuli at Sutton Hoo thrown in. We stayed with my oldest friends, friendships formed in undergraduate days, and I gave each a copy to each of the book, too. 

In less than two weeks, the book is launched. So far, over seventy people have said they want to be there. Even if they don’t all make it, it looks to be a great evening. (If you want to come: Waterstones, Orchard Square, Sheffield, 6.30 to 8.00, March 25th). 

And today is the 39th anniversary of the second-greatest day of my life, my wedding with Carrol. (The greatest was May 22nd, the day we met).

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