Sunshine Hearts

A week passes all too quickly, especially when enjoying the time we spend. I've come home to a ridiculous amount of washing, some courtesy of the Farmer. I really must teach him how to use the washer. The holiday has been very worthwhile. Having stayed in the cottage before we knew what to expect; knew about the home from home feel; the beautiful surroundings; good friends living next door. We did all the usual places for us, Pitlochry, Dunkeld, Oban, walks in the woods, shopping for souvenirs, out for evening meals. Amy and I will go back next year and I'm sure it won't have changed and will be just as tranquil. If anyone is interested to know more about our accommodation please email me, I'll be glad to recommend it.

Loch Lomond

The Falls of Dochart, Killin

Amy seems to have adapted well to coming home. We sometimes have a few days of difficulties where she needs time to settle in and return to the familiar routine which is home life. Perhaps she's just growing up. Too fast. I sometimes look at her and wonder where my baby went. I remember those silly songs I used to sing to her to help her sleep, ones about Winnie the Pooh and mummy loving her too. She goes on a residential on Tuesday. Just for one night. But that's enough for now. I don't know whether she'll miss me more than I will her but the very few times she has been away from home for the night it's felt like my right arm has been cut off. But it makes it all the more special when she returns to me. We had the paddling pool out today. Northumberland delivered glorious sunshine, enough to give our skin a healthy glow. I didn't realise how strong it was until Amy took off her swimsuit and revealed another one underneath.

The High Life

As this holiday is turning into a sight-seeing gallivant round Scotland we have decided to cut out our trip to Balmoral this time. I drove to Pitlochry and Dunkeld yesterday - forgot the camera - but had a lovely day. Showed my mum the beautiful Hilton Dunkeld which is mine and the Farmer's favourite hotel then went onto have a pleasant walk around Pitlochry, browsing the gift shops before enjoying fish n'chips sat outside in rare sunshine. The weather didn't make a difference to our most delightful day out. Then a salad for supper followed by "eyes down" and a night in front of the telly. For those of you who don't know what I mean by "eyes down", it's a game of Bingo, a very popular activity particularly in the North West of England where I was brought up. Amy was the Bingo caller last night and did a fine job with "two little ducks" and "two fat ladies", not mention "kelly's eye" and "key to the door". So far we have had a lot of fun, added to a comfortable cottage in beautiful surroundings this holiday is definitely touching the spot.

Today we thought we would rest a little, give the car a break and my mum an excuse to have an afternoon nod. My intention was to take some photographs of The Falls of Dochart, famous water falls situated in the village of Killin - a splendid sight. However, it's been raining on and off all day so we decided against it and will try again another day. In the meantime, here are a few photos I took of the garden area at the cottage, and just one of the many magnificent views.

A Cold in Scotland

Have been suffering with a bad cold for the past few days. It's one of those vile ones that makes you feel tired and pissed off. I spent all day Friday and Saturday minus my senses of smell and taste only to have welcomed them back today. To celebrate I ate a Wispa and boy was it good. I could have eaten dog food the last two days and it wouldn't have made any difference. I'm already barking.

As it happens, I am in Scotland for a week with Amy and my mum. Some of you may remember we stayed in a cottage in the Highlands last July; we have returned and it's as gorgeous as ever. As we only arrived yesterday I haven't had chance to take any photographs yet but when I do I shall transfer them onto the laptop and publish them for you to see this beautiful area. I so love the mountains. We are going to Balmoral at some stage in the week, it being one of Her Majesty's residences we may need to watch our p's and q's but the run up there is so incredible. I am hoping to capture deer on the mountainside with my new camera, where hopefully I should be able to get some pretty good close ups. We also have a trip to Oban planned, that's a beautiful town on the west coast. We went to the supermarket this morning. And last night we played Bingo. Don't say it, I know you are amazed by our sense of adventure.

Sparky's News

It was an exciting day at Jigsaw Farm yesterday. I took Sparky to the vets for a scan. The vet felt Sparky's teats and commented that they were filling up nicely but it could indicate a false pregnancy. However, the scan showed us a different picture. Four foetuses could quite easily be seen on the monitor, possibly a fifth but definitely four. I could feel myself filling up and I hugged my gorgeous, clever little girl and made the decision there and then that she would be incredibly spoilt for at least eternity. Not that she isn't already of course. Molly came with us too and sat happily on the floor through the whole procedure, wondering why mummy was constantly cuddling Sparky and probably wondering if there were any biscuits.

She has five weeks to go (gestation is 9 weeks). We are looking at the last week in June for the imminent births, most probably on or around the 27th. The Farmer and I will be cleaning out the kennel which is nicely tucked away in a shed and I will be reading up on puppies. We haven't bred before but our vet is always on hand for advice as is the sire's owner. We will be keeping one of the puppies and Amy has already named him/her, Thorn. Whether that will change in the next five weeks is anybodies guess. She wants to name the other three also but I said we should leave that to their new owners, whoever they may be, however, just for fun I'm sure she'll give them names. But when that time does come I will be vetting potential owners to the hilt as these dogs need endless exercise and a lot of stimulation. They're not the type of dog to leave in the house all day whilst owner goes to work. My friend texted me this morning about her horse who is in foal. Don't things come in three's.........? Better let the Farmer sleep in the shed for a while.

Happy Lambs (& a dog)

Thought I might lighten my blog a little with some pictures of the pet lambs. They're doing really well. Charlie and the number 50's come when I shout "milkies" and the four orphans can obviously tell the time as they shout "milkies" at 7am, 12pm & 5pm, on the dot!



This is Charlie and the two number 50's. As we only have two hands each, it is rather difficult to feed three lambs at once which means one lamb gets left out. I try to alternate which lamb it is but I often find myself being mauled by pet lambs.



Charlie, who, as you can see, is no longer the tiny lamb he used to be. He's thriving right now; we were a little worried about him last week as his little baa seemed very weak. However, his watery eye cleared up and he is still drinking a full bottle three times a day. The Farmer keeps complaining that I give them too much but I guess it's my motherly instinct....!!




And this is beautiful Molly. Always there for a photograph. The Farmer has been cutting the lawn this afternoon as the garden lambs and mummies are now in the orchard. It does look neat and tidy though, no sheep poo and lost tails. I so look forward to next year's lambing!

Mindful Research

I was totally thrilled when a friend I met on Facebook agreed to meet me last Friday evening. Bizarrely perhaps, out of all the friends I have who are connected with the paranormal, I contacted this one in particular. Only to learn that he was visiting a village just seven miles away in two days time to conduct an evening of clairvoyance. Richard Batey, clairvoyant medium, a very interesting and completely fascinating man. I had my questions written down, I was quite happy with everything I needed to ask even though I suspected some of his answers would lead me onto other questions I hadn't planned. I felt quite in awe of him at first; there I was, sat face to face with someone I had never met, yet greatly admired and knew may potentially help me to write my novel. Richard arrived with his mum, Margaret. She is his bookings manager, equally as approachable. But after only a few minutes of hand shakes and introductions I realised that Richard was a true gem; happy to help as much as he could and very keen to answer all my questions. I managed to ask him some of them but was so fascinated by what he told me I found it hard to keep to my list.

Richard has been having paranormal experiences since the age of 6, some of those experiences sounding somewhat terrifying to you and me, but to him just a matter of his every day life. Fortunately for me, he has agreed to meet again and this time come to the house which could be interesting in itself. But when I mentioned about my main character conducting seances, Richard was happy to conduct one such activity with me. Always best to have four people present at a seance I will have to find two others willing to come along on a not-so-normal night at the farm. There are a few rooms in which I would like to do a seance but I shall leave it to Richard to decide. I left the meeting with a spring in my step. Richard hadn't tried to tune into me, nor had he attempted to tell me that my dad was sat next to me or that perhaps my grandma was called Mary. We just sat and talked, he told me about himself, about his mediumship whilst I thought of more and more questions I wanted to ask. I'm thrilled to bits that he agreed to another meeting; I guess you could say he will be among the acknowledgements in my book. And in the meantime, I shall look forward to a seance and another meeting with my new friend. I shall of course keep you posted.

Writing this book has been an important part of my life for some time now. Even though progress has been slow, mainly due to having little time and too many things to do, my own experiences with the paranormal have certainly heightened my fascination and given me much needed encouragement to continue writing. It is not something that everyone will appreciate; some much less than others; but despite our opinions on the subject, we are all entitled to our own beliefs and attitudes. I hope I have never come across in my blog as being pushy or trying to convert. I will always ask those who do not believe to keep an open mind, perhaps understand that other people who claim to have experienced the paranormal have indeed found either comfort or closeness to the people they have loved and lost. We never stop loving. We never stop caring. We may not see faces or hear the voice we miss, but we are intelligent beings, capable of having our own take on life. Over the years I have developed my own abilities to be able to sense what could be interpreted as the unexplainable; I have gained comfort in knowing that my own father is happy and proud of me and I have even got used to the aroma of tobacco smoke which I often smell around the house, and of which alerted me to a possible presence only last night. I pray; I often ask God for health and happiness, I mention people in my prayers and I sometimes ask that God allow my dad to come forward. There was a time when I completely lost my faith and have since spent a long time searching for reasons that I may never find. But my beliefs are my own. No one will ever take them away from me.

Techno-Babe

As always I have had a lovely weekend with my sister. Since she moved back to England after living in Ireland for nine years, we have become closer than ever and I so value our time together. She hasn't had an easy time these last twelve months and as a family, we have pulled together somewhat like the characters of one of my favourite eighties sitcoms, Bread. We took the girls to the beach yesterday, watched the waves carry surfers to and from the shore while Amy bounded amongst the sand dunes, occasionally causing me to panic as she explored out of sight. Bea and I have a great laugh and this weekend was no exception. I left her talking to her friend last night on Skype (my new discovery in the world of technology) whilst I sat up in bed, talking to a friend on Facebook via the laptop, and watching the very gorgeous Martin Shaw as Inspector George Gently. She at one end of the house in the office, myself at the other, I suddenly received a chat message on Facebook "do you fancy a cuppa?" We spent the next hour laughing at the fact that we need to get out more.

It wasn't all roses and rainbows however. One of the orphaned lambs died yesterday morning. Quite unexpected but not particularly unusual. We can't monitor them 24 hours a day but we do look after them and feed them at regular intervals. It's sad and unfortunate, something we have seen many times before, yet always something we would obviously hope to avoid. I was a bit worried recently about one of the garden lambs known as Charlie but he seems to be doing okay again, still taking a full bottle but seemingly eating grass now and most probably getting a small amount of colostrum from his mother's milk. And perhaps the saying "when one door closes another opens" could have been quoted yesterday afternoon as our last pregnant ewe finally gave birth to twin lambs, large and healthy and feeding extremely well from their rather laid-back mother. Farming will always have its woes and its drawbacks, yet there is always a smile to be had around the corner.

I shall update my photograph blog later today and perhaps prepare my next post; I'm dying to tell you about a very exciting meeting I had last Friday evening as research for my book.

The Eye Doesn't Lie

Some time ago, I posed a question on my blog asking "do you believe in the paranormal?". The responses I received were, as always, very much appreciated and helped me to understand just a little of the expressed views on this complex subject. As I continue to write my novel I also accept that many people, those of whom may one day read my work, will have an open mind, maybe even have no belief whatsoever in the world of spirit. One cannot be converted unless they experience the unexplained for themselves, something else I came to realise many years ago. If a manifested spirit were to stand in front of you, would you then believe in ghosts?

Most of us hear noises around the home every day, some of which we may not be able to explain, many of which are down to central heating, wooden floorboards, dripping taps. I sit and listen to noises of this nature myself, often wondering if they may indeed be natural occurrences or perhaps something a little more interesting. I have, on many occasions, witnessed books falling from shelves, ornaments seemingly being pushed; I wrote about the rocking horse in my guest room moving in the middle of the night, doors opening and closing by themselves, some of which are impossible to do so without physical force. Even my husband, an open minded sceptic shall we say, has experienced unexplained noises and aromas, the noises of which scared him enough to disturb his sleep.

But these experiences are from within my own existence. Whenever someone visits the house for the first time they are eager to look around. It is not a grand farmhouse, nor is it the biggest farmhouse in the area but it is enchanting and those who stay over will usually leave a lot more open minded than when they first arrived. This pleases me. I like to think that my guests are able to acquaint themselves with a little of what my senses feel each day. Maybe if you have visited somewhere that is allegedly haunted, will your mind remain open? And if you did not experience anything in that particular location, will you decide that there is no such thing as the paranormal after all?

Fire Mountain

My bonkers husband has embarrassed us. We have what we call a "muck heap" consisting of unwanted or unsold straw and, well.. errr.. muck. Every now and then, the Farmer lights a fire and half the Northumberland women-folk run outside, gather up their washing and shake their fists at the very inconsiderate Mr. Jigsaw. He, in the meantime, goes about his business without a care in the world, apart from the price of fertiliser. However, we have now received a complaint from some holiday makers at one of the farm cottages. And I really don't blame them, it was a beautiful day and when they returned to base at midday probably hoping for an afternoon in the sunshine, they would have been incensed by the horrendous smoke. I gave the Farmer what for when the smoke was so bad I couldn't even go outside without needing a face mask. I kid you not, it was like a thick fog at one point and I could almost hear the faint sound of a fire engine. The cottages are situated quite close to the muck heap (fortunately they can't see it) and I would imagine the people staying in them would have been covered with smoke. I stink of it. A slight change from the aroma of sheep but all the same I hate it. The wind kept changing direction which is quite common for the North East coast and this obviously meant a huge bellow of smoke would rise high and wrap itself around this beautiful landscape. I gave him the "I told you so"'s and "how could you be so stupids"'s, not to mention the "I am really cross with you"'s and "I hope you apologised". I guess they won't be buying my free range eggs. Perhaps I should offer them a couple of dozen as a good will gesture. I only hope they don't expect me to wash their clothes.

I spent a very enjoyable afternoon with my good friend, Pat Posner, recently. We have been friends for several months, met through blogging, yet have never had chance to meet in person. Pat lives about half an hour from my mum near Manchester so I took the opportunity to meet up with her and get to know the face behind the delightful personality I had already become so familiar with. She lives in the most incredible setting, perched high on a hill-side. I was drawn to the breath-taking scenery surrounding her aged house, in awe at the incredibly thick walls, low windows and the sheep which parade back and forth past the house. The track (dirt road) leading to the cottage I could have done without however; a narrow, purpose built road with a steep drop within inches of the car, I desperately kept my eyes away from what could have ended a very pleasant few hours. I have sat and thought about Pat's home for a while now, trying to find the right words to describe it. When her husband opened the gate for me to drive through I had no idea I would have to drive up what seemed like the side of a mountain. My fear of heights almost stopped me in my tracks had it not been for the fact that I was so excited about meeting this lovely lady. To arrive at the cottage was a relief and to see Pat's smiling face and outstretched arms made it all worthwhile. These are a couple of shots taken from Pat's garden.

A Video Treat for You

This is a very short video of the garden lambs. It is a bit naff and I sound like a batty old mare on it, but thought you might like to see a little bit of life in my regularly posted still pictures.

I was so proud of Amy the other day when she came home with her 400m swimming badge and certificate. She has always been a water baby and loves the thrill of achievement. As I helped her off the taxi with her bags, all the other children were bursting to show me theirs too. It is so uplifting to see so many smiles on little faces who are all desperate to get home and show off such a wonderful accomplishment. So if the video works, I'll give myself a pat on the back because it will be a 24 carrot miracle

Not All It Seems

After being convinced that Charlie wouldn't make it, he is now doing really well and fattening up at a healthy rate. He does not seem as interested in the bottle anymore, no longer gulping down 3 meals a day in hope for a 4th. He still runs to me when I call his name and he still fights against my leg when the bottle is finished, but, gladly, doesn't look like the runt of a litter. I'm quite proud of him to be honest. I can't imagine what I will feel when he is moved to the field with the big boys and girls. As always, I will make a hasty escape that day and trust the deed will have been done upon my return. The other two garden lambs still feed from the bottle but again are no longer guzzling milk as though it's their last meal. We do still have the five orphans however, now happily running about a large hemmel, able to retreat inside should the weather dictate. Chip, the tiniest, is also the greediest. I have never known a pet lamb drink so much milk. His little belly fills up like a balloon and I wonder often if he might just burst.






The novelty to feed the lambs has kind of worn off Amy, perhaps temporarily, but it means I get to do all the feeding myself. Sometimes a chore, other times a nice excuse to leave the computer and get some fresh air. I do believe it calms the soul. It's been a strange few days. My finger tips have tapped out nearly 2,000 words in my book, my head has been fuzzy and I have woken up twice, two consecutive nights, after experiencing a full-on nightmare. The first I found myself sat on my staircase, a man stood over me trying to strangle me before placing a sheet over my head and the second I was running through a car park with a hand grenade, before turning round and throwing it at two males who seemed frantic in their pursuit to capture me. I blew them up.

I wondered if I'd been watching too much television. This could perhaps be the reason for the second nightmare but I am still confused about the first. The staircase has always appeared active and I sat on the featured stair in the middle of the night following the dream, wondering if I had perhaps enticed unwanted visitors. The walls have ears. They also have memories; perhaps I brought one to the fore.

The Next Chapter

I have been able to write a very sad scene in the book recently. I'm not sure if it is to blame for my melancholy. My main character has lost her best friend; being a medium, she knew her friend had passed over before anyone else did. Lucia, the friend, stands at the foot of her own bed, watching the doctors try in vain to revive her lifeless body. I had to get right into the scene, as though I was present during the death call. It wasn't an easy scene to write. And I'm finding the aftermath just as challenging. I don't want to dwell on the funeral, Camilla has many issues to face and the death of Lucia is the cue for her to begin tackling them. The romance she has found seems it is not all she had hoped for. Part of her knew, yet most of her wanted to make it work. The next chapter will introduce some confusion into Camilla's life and we will learn more about her past; about why the emptiness lingers in her heart and about the love she failed to find.

I did so much of my thinking in the lambing shed. Whilst waiting for ewes to give birth I perched myself upon straw bales and thought about Camilla, her fascinating life and the future I am fortunate enough to create for her. I also think about my characters whilst I am walking the dogs; the tranquility of the surrounding countryside captures my thoughts as words emerge in my head and I find myself hurrying back to the house, eager to release ideas into the body of a potential novel. I have had many ideas about the plot so far but I always seem to return to my original one; I find it's the best because it depicts a little of my own life. I do wonder what will happen to the manuscript once it's finished, hoping of course for publication, maybe revelling in ambition as I work towards realising my goal.

There were obviously various aspects of my life which inspired me to write this book, my dad being one of them, but living in this house has helped me to understand what life would have been like many years ago. There are still items in this house which were left by previous occupants, the family who resided here before the Farmer's, which was pre-1919. I remember my late father-in-law telling me he had no idea from where some of the furniture and items had originated and it left me imagining the people who would have once owned possessions in which the Farmer and I now consider to be ours. This house holds so many secrets, everyday I become a little more fascinated by its past. The house in my book is much grander than the one we live in. Yet it too, holds a secret which Camilla is to discover. It will reveal the backbone of the plot, giving my main character her reasons as to why she now lives at Rosehill.

Wedding Anniversary

There are days it feels I have been married to the Farmer all my life; there are others it feels like only yesterday when I drew up at the doors of a fairytale castle, a light guiding me towards my impending future. There were some guests I had never met, older members of the Farmer's family. I was nervous. Very. Clinging onto my older brother I began my walk towards the stage which was to be the destination of a new beginning. It was a civil wedding at a local landmark, a magnificent edifice which rises from the rugged landscape of the Northumberland Coastline. It's beauty captivated me when I first set eyes on it in 1993. I knew then that this historic building would play a significant part in my life and when the Farmer asked me to marry him in November 2002, both our hearts knew that Bamburgh Castle would be the perfect setting to make our vows. I had immense pleasure arranging the wedding which was to take place the following May. We had to work the date around the farm of course. Knowing we would want a honeymoon, May was the best month.



I had a migraine all day, my nerves had overtaken my thoughts and even though the wedding had been organised without a hitch, I was terrified of making the walk to meet my future husband. I didn't want people to watch me yet I knew they would. And as I approached him I realised I had nothing to be nervous about. The piano played to our left while the Farmer looked at me. And he cried. I wanted to remember every detail so I forced myself not to join him; my tears were silent. Neither of us knew what the future would hold yet we both knew that our love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles which may stand in our way. Six years on, we are truly content. Our life together has gone from strength to strength. We don't shower each other with affection, nor do we spend candlelit suppers alone. Our marriage is based on a lifetime of companionship and trust, and an eternity of love.