Maybe it's to do with winter hibernation, or the new year and decade, but I'm finally back in my writing mode. Losing my husband of nearly sixty years meant I took a while to adjust to this new reality. It also means I have less writing time because... well, nobody tells you that when you become a widow you have to do all the things your spouse used to do!
Still, I count myself fortunate. Looking back over last year, two wonderful experiences contributed greatly towards my being newly inspired. The first was a visit to Rodmell where Virginia Woolf had her 'room of her own', actually a writing hut (son-in-law, artist Richard Heys, taking a photo of her writing desk, now blocked off from the other half of the hut, which visitors can access... when I went twenty-five years ago you could still go in)
set in a glorious garden.
The other was to Knole in Lewes where Vita Sackville-West grew up. The scale of it, and the surrounding park, came as a big surprise.
Over the years I've visited Rudyard Kipling's house, seen his writing desk and grand study, as well as Henry James's Georgian home. Luckily, I'm happy with my modest study/writing room, and enjoy settling down most weekday mornings.