The Deep North

The Lady Novelist is embarking on another work of fiction. It’s official — as indicated by the formal opening of a new writing-book, which is always a bit of a moment. This will be carried about for some months and needs to be fairly tough. I was delighted to find, when I visited Signor Valese last summer, that he had come up with a striking and distinctive red and white paste-paper which even I should have some difficulty in losing, I hope. Another indication of sap rising: I have bought quantities of dahlias in a variety of pulsating shades of red, orange, and near-black, mostly the latter. We lost the existing dahlia collection to the general collapse of the Refugee Gardener, and I hope this year we’ll get on better.

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