My Amazon Author Page

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"A Scottish Wind in the Willows on high end skunk."

"I enjoy Kate's stories..."
"A fun and spooky read..."

"The characters are so involving and
loveable that you do want them to really exist. It does read like you've
stumbled across someone's long lost diary from and alternate timeline/universe.
I quickly got into the story and loved every second of reading it...
total gem of a read by an author who deserves a lot more recognition."


Sunday, 17 April 2016

When Houses Were Real

Remember when houses were real?  Made of real stone and wood - materials you could work with and fix and as long as the roof was OK they would stand for hundreds of years? Living, breathing things with a hearthstone and a sunny windowsill with a ginger cat looking out and a jug of daffodils on. Creaky floors and steep staircases.  Open eaves where sparrows could nest.  Dusty corners where spiders could thrive.  Cast iron guttering that didn't collapse under heavy snow and cast iron skylights you could prop open on hot summer days and watch the stars from on winter nights.  Single glazing that would never 'blow'.  Houses that watched over generations of families.  Houses that had gardens where cabbages grew,  and roses.  Houses that witnessed births and deaths and everything in between. Houses that were homes that held memories and ghosts.
Now houses are made from kits, thrown together in a matter of weeks - perhaps days.  Cheap bricks, plastic fixings and MDF.  No carpentry.  No masonry.  No skill.  Will they hold memories?  No. They can barely hold themselves up.
Houses are money now.  That's all they are.  Symbols of money.
Give me dry rot, draughts and woodworm over laminate flooring, a smart meter and a wall-mounted fake fire any day.

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