As a rule of thumb I assume that the interior of the Romahome stays about 5℃ warmer than outside. Woke up this morning to find that, according to my thermometer, the cabin was a chilly -1℃, and the temperature outside was, as anticipated, an arctic -6℃. Thankfully I have a good sleeping bag and duvet. I drove to Ulverston this morning, keeping to the main roads; this is not a good moment to follow the satnav lady’s whimsical choice of ungritted by-ways. Having breakfast in the café at Booths. The cabin is now 20℃, and I plan to get some writing done.
My nomadic existence has at least one unanticipated consequence: I’ve come to realise that mild asceticism helps to keep the mind active. If I was living in a warm, comfortable house I’d just sink into a sofa and never get up…
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