I spent last Friday night reading some of my poems and chatting to the lovely Harry Whittaker, on his new radio show, Upload, for BBC Radio York. Got to admit, I absolutely loved it! Hoping I get the chance to go back and maybe read some of my Home Sweet Home columns… https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p080wdyl
An extraordinary evening in the Grand Hall of Scarborough Spa, hearing Sir Ranulph Fiennes tell the story of his life. From now on, I am determined to live my life more boldly! Link below to my review for On: Yorkshire magazine.
My November writing adventures included a review stay at the Harrogate’s Hotel du Vin, for On: Yorkshire magazine. The Bistro’s Lyonnaise potatoes would, even on their own, be reason enough return!
One of my highlights of the past few months was reviewing Charlotte Lloyd-Webber’s seasonal installation at the wonderful Castle Howard. Here’s my piece for Northern Soul magazine:
THE most hilarious evening reviewing Count Arthur Strong’s new show, Is There Anybody Out There?, for On: Yorkshire magazine.
Read it here:
The trees surrounding our house have not forgotten what time of year it is, even if the weather hasn’t yet caught up. The sky-reaching line of horse-chestnuts takes pride of place in heralding the turning season; I love to sit next by the lovely draughty leaded windows in our sitting room, and watch Autumn arrive. Each year the colour moves in the same way; the orange embers begin to smoulder at the furthest tree and creep quietly along the row, catching the odd leaf in turn with a spark which will slowly gather fuel from the starry nights and morning chills, until the entire row becomes a loud blaze of orange Autumn joy.
This colour is echoed across the garden at this time of year. The abundant clusters of holly berries which hang low over the path like party decorations for the Autumn solstice are currently the same beautiful orange en route to their Winter scarlet. My new patch of Chinese Lanterns (Physallis) reflect the same hue in their waxy pumpkin-shapes, having their own private celebration amongst the rapidly fading roses.
Even the last stragglers on my tomato plants have conformed to the seasonal dress code, bright orange against their browning leaves. A robin hops around the border, his rusty breast bridging the gap between Autumn’s orange and the deep reds which emerge as this season progresses.
The apple tree is utterly magnificent this year, though struggling to stand proud with its heavy harvest. An enormous spider, which has kindly taken it upon himself to keep our kitchen free of flies, grows fatter by the day. One last flower decorates my trusty Clematis Montana, whilst the white Cosmos flowers glow against the darker mornings.
Beyond proud to have a feature in August’s edition of Yorkshire’s best-selling magazine, Dalesman. My family have read it for years. This means a lot.