Category: blogging


By the end of Autumn John usually has the glass house planted and producing but this year there have been interruptions to some of the familial rhythms.  So I decided to take the bull by the horns and plant a wild card garden. 


As in Touch Typing.  Just as well I can touch type, aye! And if you learnt how to type on one of those big old black typewriters, with the Nuns roaming the aisles wielding long rulers,  you would be able to touch type too. … Continue Reading “TOUCH”

Solemn Cows

Solemn Cows …



Full of Bliss Quiet

      Yesterday I took two loads of cattle across to the other side. (Five in all) Tucked in with the two black cousins was the little black bobby. The grass has been allowed to grow over there and should keep them busy… Continue Reading “Full of Bliss Quiet”

Diversity on the Farm

Diversity on a Farm, well actually All lives and Living, are all about diversity. My diverse life is in no way special at all.  Having said that here is what was on the bench when I awoke this morning. Federico bakes too. Our John… Continue Reading “Diversity on the Farm”

The March Give-Away

Goodbye, March! Hullo, April. (Only a day late). Here are some of my favourite farm photographs for March.  A wee anthology of the month. And a give-away. I am shortly sending off an order for some prints so I would like to do one… Continue Reading “The March Give-Away”

Did you Find Your Voice?

I learnt an awful lot at the Press Publish Conference in Portland on the weekend. I am going to share as much as I can with you over the next week.  As usual these things will weave themselves in and out of the fabric… Continue Reading “Did you Find Your Voice?”


(Is that a bad word? But it is the word I need). Slowly I settled back into the farm yesterday. I took a mental health day and decided not to talk to any humans. It was lovely. The sun was out and so was… Continue Reading “Cojones”

Back to the Country

Travelling back from Portland to Chicago I found myself in a melancholy mood. My voice packed away with my makeup. My city face dissolving back into relief. Dragging my bag like a heavy weary dog with leaden feet on a short leash. Bumping at my… Continue Reading “Back to the Country”