I am coming out as an author. That was last month’s message. But it is all very well announcing that you are coming out but then you have to face reality. People demand explanations. How long have you been writing? Why did you not feel you could say anything? Surely you could have trusted me? Sooorry. Sooorry.

I am now sending copies of my books to all my friends and family. I have broken off from packing, in order to write this blog. (I am running a bit late. It should have been out days ago. I hadn’t realised it was July already. Sooorry.) I thought I would wait until Wimbledon is over before posting the parcels.

People seem too absorbed in battles on the tennis court to concern themselves with the goings-on at The PI Shop.
I want to tell you of a different reality, however, which we experienced. I say ‘we’,because it involved my wife, Liz, and me. We had been living in Bath for about ten years. She decided that we should move to Bristol. Liz makes all the major decisions and I generally agree with her ideas. Her logic was, ‘We are not old fuddy duddies, our brains are sharp, and we are both creative and lively people. Let’s move to the heart of Bristol’s vibrant and diverse community’. Now, I had already started writing and on her advice had chosen North Street, Bristol, as The PI Shop’s headquarters. As it turned out, it was easier to write about than to live in.

Don’t get me wrong. I like North Street and I loved my journey across the harbour to the library, where I used to write. But and there is always a but, I have three main concerns about North Street.

Graffiti.

There is an annual Graffiti-fest in North Street. I have tried many times to appreciate graffiti paintings, if that is the right phrase, but I struggle on two grounds. The first is that most of them look like badly drawn extracts from a child’s comic book. I recall two exceptions to this. One was of a sad young woman, drawn on the side of a house. It was absolutely enthralling. A fine piece of work. The second was an abstract painting, which drew one into its heart and the colours were unbelievably rich and wrapped one in warmth. The others, I’m afraid, left me cold. The second reason for my lack of enthusiasm for graffiti is an environmental one. The toxic emissions from aerosols used in the process, whilst having been reduced over recent years, still present a hazard. I know there has also been a serious effort to avoid aerosol cans from being discarded and becoming litter but, inevitably, many of the tins will not be recycled.

Graffiti and the challenge to the environment seems an odd contradiction.

Street Closures for Children’s Playtime.
I grew up playing in the streets, as there were very few cars and most of them were very slow. So, the idea of closing the road to allow children to play seemed a jolly good one to me.

I even volunteered to stand at the barrier at one end of the road to stop errant drivers. After an initial burst of enthusiasm for the idea, mainly from the parents, the numbers of children gradually reduced, from about twenty to three or four. It became apparent that it was the same parents and the same children, who ensured the scheme was kept alive. I suspect that being surrounded by very good parks with excellent facilities had something to do with it. When I was young, we had a really good park but the park keeper chased us off. In those days park keepers  were little Hitlers and preserved the park for……. We never did find out.

Cats I have always been fond of cats, indeed, we had a cat of our own, whilst living in Bristol. But our urban garden, at the rear of the property, was overrun with the blighters. The smell was disgusting and the flies and insect life more typical of a tropical forest. It was clear that our property had not been occupied for some time, so the local feline community decided to convert our garden into a public lavatory for the species. I didn’t blame them and I did not run up and down the garden path with a broom, screaming and yelling – I might have trodden in something untoward and slipped over. It took Liz and I two years of clearing cat poo, with countless trips to the local tip, the re-design of the garden and extremely careful planting, before we
managed to change the habits of the local cat community and to move the problem to some unsuspecting neighbour. We dare not ask to whom they had transferred their loyalty. We kept a low profile.

PS
I have submitted my manuscript for the publication of Book 3 in the series. This has always been my favourite of The PI Shop books. I must say, editing is not the best way to read a book for enjoyment – in fact, it is very demanding. My guess is it
should be ready for publication in September. Patience is a virtue.