By Roy Edmonds
At my high-tech desk with laptop, mobile and printer (together with battered radio), there are traditional framed pictures that provide my writing inspiration.
I don’t mean framed paintings of distant places on the wall of my study - which, by the way, doubles as laundry and storage room.
No, images that catch my eye and exercise my mind the most are colour photographs - of loved ones.
There’s one picture of me, my wife and mother-in-law going up river in Sri Lanka; then there are my late parents, well wrapped up in a snow-covered Prestatyn, where they retired; and, most looked at of all the photographs, two of my darling wife - yes, She Who Knows.
“She must be tolerant and have a good sense of humour,” commented one old boy while we enjoyed a pint watching cricket, “the way you go on about her in those columns of yours.”
“My word, she’s gorgeous, too!” he observed later when She Who picked me up at the cricket club, between mother-in-law’s and home.
“Well,” I had to admit to him, “one does exaggerate at times in print - call it literary licence.
To be brutally honest,” I added, “Edmonds Towers in Great Marton isn’t quite the palatial residence I sometimes allude to; neither, come to that, is Great Marton always the finest of Fylde enclaves.”
However, dear readers, I’m eager to add right now our neighbourhood is friendly, quaint and has all amenities; home is still our ‘little palace’, and She Who Knows, well, I’ve found over the years that she really does know best!
What would we do, men, without those ladies?
In truth, mine is at the heart of all those books upon my desk bearing my name as author.
What’s more, I’m relieved it’s not She Who Knows who writes this weekly column. Just imagine, readers, the stories she could tell!
* Visit royedmonds-blackpool.com for books and more.