Baaaaaath, not Bath.
Morning…or is it afternoon? Either way, hello!
Last week, the Ross family jumped aboard the proverbial sin wagon and rolled into the beautiful town of Bath – yee haw!
We decided after much deliberation to move even further away from London because, frankly, we were sick of the smog. And the yuppies (we used to be one of them, but now we pity them…that’s human nature in action). And the stench of money. You know what I mean when I say that? It’s the fact that whichever way you look in London, there’s a social climber gunning the engine of their SUV and checking the time on their bulky Omega watch on one side of the road, whilst there’s another person struggling to make ends meet on the other. Too much division. After twelve years, it was getting hard to appreciate that great city anymore and our hope is that, by leaving its outer limits, we can rediscover the beauty of its grey-tinged, war-marked buildings when we return every now and then.
Because, I don’t know about you, but it’s important to find the right head space when you’re trying to write stories for a living. If your mind is too crowded with the kind of anxiety which comes from living at a frenetic pace, then perhaps it’s time to slow your world down. I don’t pretend for a moment that moving to a different area of the country means that life will never be stressful again, or that the ordinary cares of being a being in the world today will not come to bear, but they may interrupt to a much lesser degree. Besides, both my husband and I grew up in the countryside, where the noisiest thing you’re likely to hear is a bird squawking, or cattle moo-ing. The inevitable cycle of life has taken us around in semi-circular fashion, so that we have gone from being country children longing for the bright lights of the city, to adults working and playing in the city, to older adults yearning for the peace and quiet of the country once again. We’ve opted for somewhere in-between!
Transition to North Somerset life has thus far been very easy. The people here are ridiculously friendly – having been used to London life, I naturally assumed they were mentally ill, until I realised that is their general state of being.The only potential problem is being lost in translation. For example:
“Hello! Have you just moved in?”
“Hello! Yes, we thought Bath would be a lovely place to bring up our son.”
“Bath? Oh, you mean Baaaaaattth.” [Said with emphasis on the ‘ahhh’]
“Yes, Bath.” [Said with no emphasis whatsoever]
“Bath.” [Yes, love, I’m Northern. Well done for noticing]
I will do my best not to conform to the smooth drawl of the west country and will endeavour to stay true to my northern heritage by continuing to pronounce certain words with hard inflection, but I may be fighting a losing battle since I’m vastly outnumbered.
Either way, it’s back to work for me today! The boxes are largely unpacked, the internet and television is back up and running (THANK GOD) and there is no further excuse not to get along with writing the third and potentially most exciting mystery DCI Ryan has faced thus far.
Catch you later!