My workroom is always the warmest in the house. This is good in winter, but not so good in Summer. I knew it would be hot today, but I was determined to get some writing done. I sat here and fought the mind numbing heat and pecked away at the keyboard until my brain flashed red and I gave in. It was cooler outside; I had to leave the house. I thought about packing some water, but even thinking about it took effort so I grabbed my bag, checked to make sure I had my money, music and camera and I was off at a gentle pace. I was planning to walk to the Priory remains where they have a couple benches, but I kept walking…down on the Meadow next to the river…and then ended up in St Michael’s church in St Martins. Stamford is the northern side of the river and St Martins is the southern side though I generally just think of it all as Stamford. I miraculously found it open and gloriously empty. The old stone churches are always cold. I think if this heat keeps up I might take a writing pad over to one and sit and try to get some work done the old fashioned way.
I found some lovely photos before my camera battery died. That will teach me for being too lazy to charge it, but I’m glad it died. It meant I had no reason to resist claiming one of the many pews. I sat down and was glad the thick walls muffled the outside world. I closed my eyes and could have fallen asleep, but thankfully the narrow benches were designed to keep people awake.
My stories aren’t very happy with me at the moment. I think I’m trying to write the characters in some slightly wrong directions. I feel like I’m trying to push a dead cow up a hill, but I’ll figure it out. Eventually.