Monday, 30 March 2015


Delighted to be part of Josie Watson's brilliant idea
for the best county in England. 

Wednesday, 25 March 2015


About eighteen months ago I took up fly fishing, and have not caught a great deal. 

In fact I have not caught a fish yet. 

Yet am smitten with the idea, the practice and the paraphernalia of the sport. 

These drawings are inspired by a trip to Scotland and work suggested by good friends who have taken over the Scourie Hotel in Sutherland 

and a possible collaboration with Midcurrent an exciting fishing blog in the USA - 

I have signed up for fly-fishing lessons – well there’s a start.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015


 Spring and the buds are on trees. (Sorry, the trees are in bud)

The CD tree on our allotment has been blooming all year round
Gold Silver blossoms (usually Daily Mail cover mounted films)
This is the tree for me.

People are now spied walking through the gates emerging from their hibernations and starting to get back to their plots.

God Bless the Gardeners and their CD collections.

The CD tree on our allotment - constant blooms

Tuesday, 17 March 2015


Sian enjoys the must-read, almost daily, gardening blog called Mark's Veg Plot

It is packed with good advice and superb photographs. Mark's blog is the business for horticulture and garden enjoyment. 

I connected with Mark on Twitter, ingratiating myself through my allotment drawings; So I was pleased when the great gardener let me do a picture of his plot!


Tuesday, 10 March 2015


The Happy Valley Holiday Caravan Park 

Our  home for St David's day

I sit on the front step and draw
Monday morning it is calmer although the wind still bows trees eastwards. And looking down to the sea, low tide and further along the coast the sun breaks through and turns the sand into a giant mirror.  

As you step outside all one can hear is wind and sea.

Everyday we have made our way over the sand dunes, a twenty-minute walk to the beach. 

Broad sands, some black rocks and large shingle in places, thrown up high against the margin of the dunes.

We collect Seaweed bag up and haul back up to the house. We are also scavenging for driftwood for creating decoration in the Summer House at home. The flatter pieces we find will make canvases for painting.  There is a lot to collect and repurpose.

As I write this he sky changes again and we can clearly see the coast of Devon across the water. Three crows cross the field of view. Not a sound inside apart from a ticking clock.

Peaceful and a place allotted for a return stay.

How to find Wig Fach

Sunday, 8 March 2015


Towards Ogmore by Sea

Towards Porthcawl

The lovely Pelican Pub - Great Gower Beer
Wig Fach does have a signpost so it must be a place.  A collection of bungalows are clustered round a village green, punctuated by telegraph poles, an old caravan, a trailer and gravel lorry, all fringe the green.

The signpost is on the main road from Bridgend to Porthcawl, holiday trailer home capital of south Wales and not a million miles from the M4.  We are next to the Happy Valley Caravan Park.

Friday afternoon arrival: We have come here for the weekend of St David’s Day, and yesterday, March 1st everyone was sporting daffodils, Prince of Wales Feather broaches or wearing their Leek.

Lunchtimes in the pub, on Saturday in the Pelican at Ogmore by Sea and on St David’s day, we went west to the Prince of Wales pub at Mawdlam.

Friday, 6 March 2015


Is 'espaliered' a verb?
All along the allotment:

There is clear evidence in mid February that plot owners are emerging from hibernation and doing things (to their ground).

Now is also the time of year to enjoy the old seed heads, seed pods and desiccated leaves of some large plants that have not been consigned to the compost or heap.  Some thin and wasted plants still stand proud in various brunette shades like a hair colour chart in the hairdresser.

The counterpoints to la saison derniere  are the shoots on the fruit trees that are espalier-ed against various frames and supports. One small tree delicately trussed against a frame of scaffolding caught my eye.

I made a drawing of old and new and inadvertently upset my inkpot on the grass, which I hope, will be washed away before the transgression is perceived.