Excellent read, a fictional account of the relationship between famous actor Henry Irving and Bram Stoker and theirs with Ellen Terry as well as the influences that gave birth to Dracula. Set in a wonderfully atmospheric and lost London - a London that ended not far west of Oxford Street and harboured Jack the Ripper.
Mum had stayed over and Dave drove her home after a halloumi breakfast armed with a leftover bun and a couple of bags of potatoes. I put out some of our wild flower seed balls then finished my book in the garden. Felt ever so slightly gloomy and the book's ending focusing as it does on the final years of the protagonists and their regrets and memories seemed to chime with that. Something about the warm sunny intervals interspersed with quite gusty winds seemed melancholic for some reason. Along with reminders of the passing of time: mum getting frailer, the jubilee, and even the Audrey Hepburn film last night, made in 1966 when I was 3. Sitting in a garden that we are only really borrowing until we move on and someone else makes it their own.
3 good things - focus focus focus
1. Blue tits and sparrows flitting around quite brazenly in the garden even while Dave was working out there.
2. Actually picked up the melodeon and played a few tunes.
3. Ridiculously unhealthy comfort food recipe for supper - cheesy garlicky buttery crumpets done in the oven.
It sounds like a really good book. I like non-fiction usually but this one sounds like there's enough reality in there that I'd enjoy it. Nice display and photograph.
@busylady so the crumpets weren't homemade, but used as a base for a cheesy crumpety version of garlic bread! Very delicious! And the potatoes were left over from several Dave had got from work to plant but in the end he had too many.
