By: Blonde Two
If you remember a wee while ago Blonde One and I treated ourselves to a night at Dartmoor’s most excellent Ilsington Country House Hotel. The plan was that we would spend Friday night and all day Saturday doing some writing for our new book (which we promise will be released just as soon as we get round to writing it!)
Needless to say we had a lovely time. You couldn’t fail to enjoy yourself at the Ilsington Hotel, it has that perfect combination of country house and sophisticated hostelry that makes a girl feel relaxed and pampered all at once. The food is fabulous (we had particular fun with a cheese fondue), the rooms are homely and comfortable (we fell in love with Pinchford) and the staff are just lovely (by the end of just one day we felt like part of the family.
The problem with all of this loveliness was that it provided distractions. The Ilsington is well equipped with books, games, lovely views and even chickens, not to mention the spa and as you can imagine, we Blondes made sure that we made the most of all of these.
We visited what must surely be the happiest chickens in the whole of Devon (they certainly lay tasty eggs).
We admired the view of Haytor (from a bench outside and from our bedroom, for quite a long time).
We took a turn around the grounds and enjoyed the spring flowers.
We ate lunch on the very sunny terrace.
We had a Solitaire competition.
We found the secret drawers in the bureau.
Then we had a Scrabble competition.
Of course the important question is… did we do any writing… well Blonde One managed a bit and we are two chapters up… only a few more to go! Thanks Ilsington Country House Hotel, we will be back very soon!
Hmmm! Perhaps a hermit’s cage next time? Then you can keep the hotel for a reward upon COMPLETION!!!!!
A grand idea… our next visit will be in the form of a reward!!
OOPS! For ‘cage’ read ‘cave’. Though come to think of it, maybe a cage – – –
Far better to have nailed plywood over the windows of your usual atelier(s), turned off the lights except the small LED jobs illuminating your keyboards, and simply communed with your intellects wearing your dressing gowns.
Two things suggest this project was doomed to failure. Probably was intended to do. From her styling the typist took time off to do her hair; pretty, yes; serious, no.
And in the long list of the hotel’s attractions there is no mention of its wine list. Its absence hints at a degree of guilt. But you let slip one telling detail. The fondue, assuming it was authentic, is usually well-laced with kirsch. Perhaps this is where the iron resolve started to rust away.
One other thing. You mention chapters, a very vague measure of progress. Word-totals tell a less escapable truth. Nor do you have to count; my computer does that for me. I know when I’ve messed about too long at the other (musical) keyboard.
Mind you, I’m just as bad. Writing pulls one way, singing pulls the other. The branding iron of dilettantism rests on the brazier, always available for a bout of self-accusing, self-harm.
Aux armes, citoyennes!
For me Robbie writing always happens best after a session outside. Hence my relief at resuming my early morning sea swims this morning. There was wine, obviously although I rely on B1 to interpret wine lists. (B2)