The world from my window

It's England's national day and the St George's Cross is flying high on the church flagpole. Across the road, the brewery has just picked up a load of empty beer barrels from the pub and stocked up its cellar with full ones. In the fields, there are cuckoo flowers. Great drifts of them. The naked ash tree is silhouetted against a bright blue sky and the old shepherd and his dog on my late father's weather vane trudge ever onwards. In the village hall where Mr Grigg and I had our wedding reception many moons ago, they're clearing up the remains of the cider festival. The golden nectar of my grandparents' days, when they made cider from their own orchards and no additives were involved, is now quite rightly enjoying a resurgence. Thomas Hardy loved it, as you can gather in this extract from Great Things : Sweet cyder is a great thing,      A great thing to me, Spinning down to Weymouth town      By Ridgway thirstily, And ma...

We've been promised a heatwave of sorts here in England next week. And about time, too! Spring's been a long time coming. Still, in the words of Louis Armstrong, I don't care what the weatherman says, when the weatherman says its raining, you'll never hear me complaining. Unless it's snowing and I slip and hurt my back.  But that's all in the past. The agony of back pain is forgotten, at least for the moment. Trees are beginning to come out in blossom. I even saw a swallow in Lush Places the week before last! Deep joy. They fill me with such happiness. And the wallflowers too. I love them. And mine are beginning to come out. Their scent is going to fill me with paroxysms of delight, I just know it. While we've been waiting for spring to spring, ITV has been very cleverly spoon-feeding us sunshine ever Sunday night in the shape of The Durrells , the television series loosely based on the Corfu Trilogy by Gerald Durrell. It makes for v...

In a parallel universe, my book, Good Morning Corfu: A Year on a Greek Island  is going down very well, like ouzo and iced water in the village plateia on a balmy evening. The reviews have been lovely - thank you - with the latest  describing it  as 'Jack Kerouac meets the Archers via the Durrell family. Delightful!' My dear friend, Betty, who is featured in the book, messaged me today in great excitement, after meeting a couple from Manchester who were in our Greek village looking for the Villa Oleander. 'I walked them to the house,' she said, 'and then they told me they were looking for it because they read your book! They already went up to the Square to visit every single place you mentioned.' Apparently, the only reason they visited the village was because they had read the book. Of course, when Betty revealed that she was in it, they were delighted. 'The lady told me to tell you how much she enjoyed your book!' I hope they spent some...

It's a bit blowy here in Dorset. Hop on over to A Dorset Year for more. That's about it. Love Maddie x