Long story short, Last year I bought a load of factory clothing from 1930s Nîmes, still bundled up and in the original starch. In the street. I love them, and today, walking WH 2 people stopped me to ask where I got my jacket. Plus one more yesterday. Hashtag accidental hipster.

'We Now Set Ourselves' lucyinglis77gmailcom.substack.com/p/we-now-set...

If it's ok with you I would like to share an interaction about my book, Born.

Brief reappearance from the depths - just want to say that if you have a rescue dog and they don't understand playing with toys, or play in general (Whitney doesn't), it's not you, it's the previous shitty owners. For the first 2 years of their lives. You can't take that out of them.

The One About The Parrot open.substack.com/pub/lucyingl...

Oof, pals, the book is in the wild in the US soon, but it seems they may like it.

One of the things I love with this house, is that you can get up, put your pedal to the metal, and be in Barcelona for lunch.

Up and on, and the house knocked at me. I know, sounds weird, but as the season changes, the house makes her own noises. Knocking is one of them. She's 821 years old and full of life.

In not too long a time, I will be invited to see the transformation of the NoL's house with the new people. They are LOVELY and love the house and his spirit. Huge changes, and it's gonna be a challenge. But a good one.

WH, who is such a criminal that she was found on a road, trying to get home after a 24km solo hike, as we were on a mountain, I'd had it shouting and crying and walking and gone home, wants another walk. She was trotting along the road home.

Right, let's go pals, another thing that could only happen in the Inglisverse.

People who make VERY IMPORTANT PHONE CALLS IN PUBLIC should meet a.special end. Particularly when you realise it was 3.minutes of voicemail.

Today of all days, I am missing the NoL. Does anyone have time for a story, pals?

More party pictures coming in. Because who doesn't celebrate a book with a lot of pig and crisps, in a church? The jamon was decimated, btw, which is exactly how it should be. Well done, gang.

We turned out the chandelier last night and it was like the last moments of Cheers. No, we're closed.

Turn off the gold light switch for the chandelier and slam the door really hard as long as you have taken out the rubbish! Probably the best life advice ever.

I think you will all (most of you) be immensely proud of me that last night - bearing in mind I know zero about football - someone made me sign their copy of BORN for a friend with 'West Ham are still shit'. In the house of God. People have no respect.

Behold, the one woman invasion from the kingdom of Lilliput! (It was a great night pals, thanks to everyone who made it.)

For whatever reasons, Mr I & I have skin in the Ukraine game, and Ukrainians LOVE a pet. Cats, dogs, budgies, squirrels, name it, they love it. So Mr I today has been walking a cat on a lead. With a boxer dog.

Got chatting on the train back from Edinburgh with a pair of Indian doctors who'd just flown in the Dubai, and a yogi from Wales, as you fucking do. And the yogi read us her poem about the reversal of Roe v Wade and I did a big pause. It's unbelievable. Mr I, who has no time to any nonsense went 🆗

My author copies for BORN arrived today! People do unboxing videos but that's not exactly my style. I'm going to gift wrap one and walk it up to our 85yo chain smoking pal in Spitalfields. He's a backgammon champion. His doormat says, 'I like it dirty'.

Someone congratulated me on my achievements as an 'amateur historian'. And complimented my research methods. For a nanosecond I took it badly, then I decided, only bring it on.

People quite often ask me if I employ researchers as the scope of my research is so wide. I cannot imagine a world where I would do that. I do that.

Thanks to EVERYONE who came to my event at Edinburgh Book Festival. I had an absolute ball and all the questions were super and on. point. which is no small feat. Plus, the sun was shining in Edinburgh, so that was glorious.

Without wanting to get into it, an actual baby I did her swim babies fucking nonsense is now some hip hop all the rage. I'm too old for all of this.

Pals, as there's a lot to do, WH is staying on her little farm where they breed water spaniels. IKR. She's stayed there before, and has a perfect little wendy house of her own to sleep in, tons of pals and a woodland to explore, but I can't stop myself from looking around for her.

Back in the pool today. Did my mile, and in the changing room a lady said this was her recovery dip, chatting and she said, I ran 103 miles in the dark over the weekend. OK THEN.

Sightings in the wild of your books are so random. Mr I was on the Tube once with a man reading Milk, and he got up as he left and said to the man, My wife wrote that book. Strong departure.

FIRST SIGHTING IN THE WILD. Not even I've seen it yet!

A periodical reminder that when the shit hits the fan, the NHS shows up. It is the benchmark of a society. Yes, it has its flaws, assholes, and awful moments but it is marvellous.

Pals, I may have to do something stupendously awful on modern media today. I resisted.

Today something so out of the blue happened that it was hard to understand. The bad kind.

Tonight someone asked if they could introduce their toddlers to WH as she's a friendly dog. I said sure but she might want to play.

L'il WH has reminded that I have neglected the dinner gong.

You know when you think time is inevitable? Our father's twin sister celebrated their birthday today. 79. Always tough. Hard to know what to say.

The Bob Dylan neighbour is coming for his tea tomorrow night. He's on the strugglebus with depression again (I've told him too much Bob Dylan) and he's off his rations so please don't cook a big meal. Only small things. I'm catering for a kid's party. Jammy Dodgers, cheese and pineapple on sticks.

I wrote this book. Hard to believe, holding it in your hand.

When WH was a 6 kilo ruin, these people sent a message today, if they can drop by to meet up. This is the reunion.

I know everyone can't be as lucky as our mum, but she's 80, and I messaged her on WhatsApp about something and she said, Can't talk, am landscaping the drive. You can't take the girl out of Yorkshire &c.,

Pipkins, if you would like to order my new book, Born, Waterstones are very kindly doing a promo code from now until Thursday which is PREORDER25 for the discount.

Pals, you are going to die. I went to see a different neighbour to check in and he shouted Don't come in! I'm naked and listening to Bob Dylan! I shouted, I'm not coming in! Tell me when it's safe!

Our neighbour at the back lost her husband suddenly last year. She's lovely but it's been tough. She is veganish. Plant based. I was cooking for me today (boring) so I have cooked for two and hung it on her door handle.

Saw off the NoL's extended family. (We all agreed no tears. 😭) What a tremendous legacy he has left us all. Of friendship, generosity of spirit, and my word, some deeply inappropriate laughter.

The people who have bought the NoL's house would like me to come and see the changes, which is code for please tell me how the solar panels work.

The last of the NoL's family depart tonight. A tremendous kick in the parts. But we will see them soon.

The normal starter flat for a young couple in London in the 1740s to 60s had no cooking facilities. Laundry was part of your basic expenses and also not done at home.

Pals, a pal who when I met her was going through a gritty divorce with 2 tiny children. We swam in pools and lakes and rivers. Wild.

This is Ama, trying to live her best life. Like Whitney, she hasn't worked it out yet but she is trying.

Our neighbours have rescued this dog. She doesn't have a fixed name yet but my word, she has decided where she lives now.

So, I know, I'm a living stereotype, but my first car was a mini and now I drive a mini convertible. She's super fun, but I didn't realise quite how identifiable she is in France with British plates....