Angela Jupe's Georgian home Bellefield House In March the garden is full of daffodils and hellebores. Wild woodland planting around the house The stable yard stone out buildings have been transformed . . .
As I sit here in the wifi bar I am struggling to settle on a blogpost for ye. Time is short and the charge on this device is poor. Having one foot in the global melting pot of the internet and another in the sleepy seaside village world is something I could live . . .
I skip the Pope's house this time. I am always cautious not to disrespect another's idea of beauty or religion, all I know is that I would never find light there. In the midst of droves of pilgrims making their way to the Basillica of St. Peter's I am as usual walking . . .
In another dream life I live in the big smoke. Which city? Well any of them to be honest, but at the moment it's London. I wander around from theatre to cafe and from river to park, I write, I snap, I breathe. In any city it takes time to adjust to the proximity of so many people, . . .