After several weeks of mild weather, a sharp winter has come, making the air truly chilly. My hands are cold. Two and a half years have passed since I smoked a cigarette. I’ve stuck to my more recent New Year resolutions as much as I can, continuing the piano practice and language studies and studying the market for my third novel, but the prospect of taking brisk power walks up the north London hills in this weather doesn’t appeal to me and I can’t wait for the weather to improve so that I can resume the walks. Meanwhile, I hope to send the third novel narrative to an editor in the next couple of months to get a professional opinion.
Come back, Warm Weather!