
Are you shore you know where you are?

Whether the weather will be…




Wild, wet, windy…



or sunny and sandy


https://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter-five-beach-writer-s-blog
Visit my website to see more seaside…
















https://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter-five-beach-writer-s-blog













https://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter-three-picture-quiz
The members of the New Forest Agricultural & Horticultural Association, formed nearly a hundred years ago, would be unlikely to recognise the New Forest Show of the twenty first century. The early shows cost two shillings and four pence to get in with competitions, one tent and livestock tethered up to a piece of rope between two oak trees.

The modern show is on for three days and it would take three days to see all the events and exhibits; it can be quite exhausting being a visitor, let alone for the people working and taking part. On Tuesday, armed with our tickets from Stewarts Garden Centre giving us entry to their hospitality tent, we enjoyed free light refreshments all day, ample toilets with no queues and seats by one of the main rings; albeit looking into the blazing sun. As we sipped our first cup of tea riders were showing off their working hunters. The beautiful horses were examined for their looks then observed for their elegance and obedience as they trotted, cantered and galloped round the ring. The male judges wore bowler hats and for the lady judges a hat wider than their hips was the dress code, they all had very big hats!

I wandered off at intervals to explore the show ground. Arts and crafts, holiday homes, furniture makers and funeral directors all had stands, alongside vintage farm machinery and ferret racing. In their quarters the ferrets had tiny hammocks to sleep in, more exclusive than the tent full of show rabbits.
I came across a dancing sheep display and learned a lot about sheep as well as having a good laugh; the finale was the shearing of a sheep, it’s not easy to be a stand up comedian and shear sheep at the same time.
Stewarts had a garden display, with beautiful wildflower beds; you could buy packets of seeds to make your own. There was a garden tent with exquisite flowers and a guess the weight of the cabbage. The Women’s Institute had a varied and delightful display to celebrate their centenary; the theme was a woman who has inspired you; each entry had to feature three different crafts, variety and imagination was in abundance.

Back at the show ring the cows and sheep were having a winners’ parade, the highlight being a ram who managed to escape and run around making fools of the humans chasing him. Two beagle packs came on and children were invited into the ring to play with them, parents were reassured the beagles were longing to play with their darlings; we heard someone behind us laugh and comment … and rip them to pieces… but nothing untoward happened.
The highlights for me were the horses. The heavy horses’ musical ride is not seen anywhere else in the whole world, so we were told. Among the giants the Shires are my favourites with their feathered feet and elegant trot. But the best was yet to come, Atkinson Action Horses. If you watch any television dramas featuring horses, you will have seen some of their stars. We ladies love the scenes of our heroes galloping along cliff tops and across fields and these are real flesh and blood horses, not CGI; trained by experts, they enjoy working. The show display was action packed with gymnastics on Cossack saddles, bare back riding, jumping over fire and lying down and playing with their ‘best friends’. There was an hilarious commentary; riding and talking at the same time is very clever… and ladies, these chaps were fit, very fit. The girl riders were also amazingly agile, so I’m sure they had plenty of admirers.
http://actionhorses.co.uk/the-horses/

Big and modern though it is, the show is still about animals, country life and competitions.
If you enjoy anything that is free you have probably been to a free lunchtime concert. I have been to them in all sorts of places; theatres, town halls, cathedrals. Cathedrals are particularly good for accidentally enjoying free entertainment if you come upon a rehearsal. Even wrong notes sound great when pounded out on the pipe organ in a beautiful cathedral, the organist hidden from view up in the organ loft. Many cathedrals invite you to ‘make a donation’ or just charge you to go in; these historic buildings are expensive to care for. Exactly how this happens varies.

At Lincoln Cathedral you can walk in, stand at the back and take in the view. To go any further you have to pay. One day while visiting relatives in Lincoln we were walking back to their house and decided to pop in to the cathedral. We were greeted with singing that sounded familiar from the past. The Swingle Singers, are they still alive? We saw them at the London Palladium in Something BC ( Before Children ). Yes indeed and they were rehearsing for a concert that evening, we stood at the back and listened. Another time at Lincoln Cathedral we popped in and came across Mark Elder conducting Tchaikovsky with the Halle Orchestra, in rehearsal for that evening’s concert. The relatives wondered why we took so long to get back to their house.

Last week was Christchurch’s Music Festival. The Priory is the parish church with the longest nave in England, larger than many cathedrals and is over nine hundred years old; a beautiful place for music of all sorts and there are concerts all year round. I managed to get to three very different lunchtime concerts, the Bournemouth University Big Band, a lone tenor and two organists; described as Four hands, Four Feet and Four Thousand Pipes. The Priory was packed and of course they do like you to put some money in the plate on the way out. There were ticketed evening concerts as well.

The Priory has regular organ lunchtime concerts all year round and it was these that inspired my short story ‘Saints and Sinners’. What would happen if the resident organist was jealous of the guest organist, if the priest in charge was so protective of his historic church and its music that he would do anything to protect its reputation? Hambourne is a delightful riverside town and Hamboune Abbey is its treasure. Father Jonathon’s love of his church and music left no room for marriage or a partner of any sort.

In the free concerts I have been to no disasters have occurred beyond someone’s phone going off during the quiet movement, or rather strange people wandering around looking lost. But at Hambourne Abbey something very dark happens, in ancient churches, who knows what happened in the past? What restless spirits inhabit the organ loft?

At weekly writers’ group I found myself writing more stories about Hambourne and the people that live there; separate stories, but with a link. I didn’t want them to become a novella instead I included them as The Hambourne Chronicles in my second collection of short stories. I was going to call the collection Saints and Sinners until I discovered how many other books on Amazon had the same title, so it became Hallows and Heretics. There are five chronicles in amongst twenty four tales that take you through the year.

























…and don’t forget your ticket.



























What lies beyond?
























https://www.turnercontemporary.org/exhibitions/another-time-for-margate-folkestone

http://www.gateshead.gov.uk/Leisure%20and%20Culture/attractions/Angel/Home.aspx
To the corner?
Back in time?
To the post office? 










The couple winding their way down Glastonbury Tor were in colourful contrast to the middle aged couple, in their matching National Trust green anoraks, marching up the hill. She wore flowing skirts in every hue from lilac to violet and her Peruvian hand knitted jacket brightened the grey afternoon. He wore trousers of a rusty, rustic indeterminate material and a greengage green jacket lovingly hand woven by her.
‘I can’t believe it’s nearly Beltaine’ she said.
‘No,’ he replied ‘if this weather doesn’t warm up I can’t see new life arriving anywhere.’
She shivered. ‘I’ll be glad to get back to a nice warm cosy yurt.’
‘We’d better get a move on or the kids will be back.’
‘No they won’t Hengist,’ she smiled ‘Flint’s got maypole practice after school and Amethyst’s going round to her friend’s yurt.’
‘Well Aurelia, it should be a very cosy yurt.’
‘What’s for dinner Mum?’ yelled the children as they arrived back later.
‘Five bean stew and ground elder crumble; call your dad while I check if that wool’s finished steeping.’
Aurelia reached the reclaimed animal trough in the corner of the field as Hengist climbed carefully over the stile.
‘Only three eggs today, Hetty and Lotty could do with some sunshine as much as the rest of us.’
‘What do you think of this colour?’ she asked him, peering into the trough.
‘Looks the same shade of green as the last lot.’
‘I’m going to try making some new dyes in the summer, berries are going to be in this year.’
After dinner they settled down for a quiet family evening.
‘Has anyone seen my crystals?’ sighed Aurelia.
‘Help your mother look Flint; Amethyst, time for flute practice.’
‘Dad, will you play your lute?’

Later, as the children settled down to sleep, the parents chatted quietly.
‘Did you read that letter Flint brought back from Miss Fairweather, Hengist?’
“Yes, I think we’d both better go and see her. The only one with a problem is her. She was glad enough when he got the boys interested in maypole dancing, just because he explained the origins of the maypole… anyway, how was your new patient?’
‘She was a funny soul… I said to her
I’m alternative and herbal, not homeopathic, I do strong doses… no there’s no need to worry about hemlock and digitalis if you know what you’re doing.’
‘Old Bob said to thank you, his arthritis has hardly bothered him this winter, he’s going to recommend you to all his friends. Maybe you can give up your Saturday job now.’
‘But I’ve got to liking it and we needed that money over the winter.’
‘Now I’m hedge laying again there’s no need’ he pleaded.
‘I do like it Hengist, getting dressed up, having a laugh with the girls and it gets me out of the yurt.’

On Saturday morning Aurelia walked down to the town with her large hand woven bag over her shoulder. As she got on the local bus there was a musical tinkling from her earrings and bangles. She greeted other locals and after driving to Street they soon arrived at their destination, Clarks Shopping Village.
She entered the ladies and went into the disabled cubicle where there was more room. Carefully she took off her jacket of undyed local wool, rolled up her burnt orange and berry red skirt and slipped off the leather sandals Hengist had made. She stepped into her uniform, squeezed her feet into court shoes, gathered up her black tresses in a neat bun at the nape of her neck and finally put on a subtle pink lipstick and a suggestion of eye shadow. Aurelia walked out ready for a busy day at Marks and Spencer shopping outlet.
‘Hello Linda’ said her supervisor. ‘Till Four today.’
On Till Three her friend greeted her, caught her up with the latest gossip from the soaps and passed on her celebrity magazines. After a busy morning they went off for lunch at the restaurant.
‘It’s only once a week’ said Aurelia, as she ordered a Megaburger with extra French fries.
