A Letter for July
It's summertime and the days are unwinding
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Hello Friends,
Happy Friday.
I started this month’s letter in Bread Source Norwich, on the Monday after that heatwave, trying hard to reboot my melted brain. It’s now Friday, and although there is a delicious fresh breeze along with the sun, my brain is yet to recover! I still haven’t done the rebranding for this letter, and so now the question is — will I get it done before the school holidays... maybe.
Feeling & Noticing
Midsummer's Day has been and gone, and we’re officially in summer. July and especially August are liminal months. If time were a tangible thing, you would see it slowing down. The frantic growth outside has slowed. The dawn chorus has reached its crescendo. Nature is taking a breather, and we humans can feel the urge to chill out too. There are two weeks left of term here, and now that both kids are at high school, the primary school end-of-term, fayre-sportsday-concert carnage is happily no more. The days are unwinding. My response to tasks is to wait. To put things off until September — when the energy returns.
Doing Stuff
This past weekend, I finished a creative writing course that has been consuming my brain for the past four months. When I started, I was huddled in the 3 million layers of knits, and the snowdrops were still scattered all over the garden. When I sent off my final assignment on Sunday, it was in a sundress, mainlining iced coffee while being blasted by the air-con at Costa. The passage of time has ways of sneaking along without you really noticing. Finishing a project, though, always has a way of making you stop and reflect on how far you’ve come. At the beginning, I felt frozen by writer’s block, but four months later? I know what my process is — or at least I have an idea of it. And with that knowledge, I feel more relaxed. As the seasons have mellowed, so have I.
Going Places
Remember back at the beginning of June when the days were a mixed weather bag of blink-and-miss-it sunshine and apocalyptic rain showers? It was on one of those days that a group of us gathered for Kay’s June Kinship Gatherings at the home of ceramicist Kim, huddled around a magnificent waney-edge wooden table in the sunny conservatory. Like a film set, Kim’s home is a true artist’s home. Shelves stacked with stunning ceramics (obviously), styled with vintage trinkets and nature’s treasures. And the garden? Kim is also a garden designer, and she has created a patch of pure wild abundance. The kind of garden I would have, if I were green-fingered and if the local wildlife population weren’t under the impression our garden is an all-you-can-eat snack bar. As always at these gatherings, there were confessions, moments of clarity and snippets of oh-my-gosh life story. I always come away feeling inspired.
Reading List
So many DNF’s this month. The best part of a library membership is abandoning books with abandon. What I did finish, and love, was The Sailor from Gibraltar by Marguerite Duras. Part mystery, part fever dream, it’s the perfect heat-wave read. The story follows an obsessive hunt for an elusive sailor that unfolds across the Italian med and finishes — Heart of Darkness style — in the Congo.
Listening To
The local Costa, with its abundant air-con, has become my home away from home this month. The only downside? Men. Noise-cancelling headphones blasting ambient music are essential. Seriously, whether it’s men in suits debating spreadsheets, young tech bros shouting on Zoom calls or old dudes brandishing newspapers — they all talk so loud. Guys, I hate to break it to you, no one cares about your APIs, apps, or what The Daily Mail has to say.
When I was on a weekly letter schedule, I would take August off. Now the letters are monthly; that break seems unnecessary. So, to write or not to write? I haven’t decided. I have changes planned for September, but I may pop in with an August letter.
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend.
Becca x







