Hiatus and Hinterland

December and January...bleak and beautiful.  I'm limiting my screen time right now, so sharing some photos which give an essence of life in recent days.  

Hinterland: the area around or beyond a major town or port.

Here's our very own Hinterland...just beyond the garden gate, some 12 miles away from the UK's second city, looking magical in the fog which ascended late Christmas Eve and stayed with us almost to New Year's Eve.

I'm not taking these beautiful trees for granted.  The recent storms have claimed a number of them.

The ridge you can see in the photo above is the more challenging route home...

...but as I made my way across the top, I was soon forced to take an alternative route home after encountering this fallen giant.

The other paths were littered with casualties.

So sad to see.

The dying days of December also marked a new chapter for my last clients of 2024, Clare and Tony, who tied the knot at Hogarth's Stone Manor, a Worcestershire manor house formerly owned by the Palethorpe family (renowned Birmingham sausage producers, who started operations in 1852). 

If ever a dress screamed mid winter magic, it's this one.  More coming soon.

As for my own photo journey, I've added another camera to my armoury; a new generation Polaroid.  I love everything about Polaroids.  They are the antithesis of digital photos.  There's a mysterious alchemy about them; light and temperature being major players in the process.  You never quite know what you're going to get and there's a soft, fuzzy quality that is impossible to replicate. I'm in love.

I've had a few mishaps so far, but for the first one off the camera, I'm pretty pleased with this one. 

I've already moved on to my beloved black and white (which Polaroid introduced in 1950).  I'm just waiting for the weather to settle down (we've had snow, ice and heavy rain in the last 24 hours) before venturing out.  I've also discovered a way of upcycling the spent cartridges, so watch this space!

I'll be back and catching up with other blogs as soon as possible. x

First Snow

Surprise!  Snow was in the forecast, but we weren't expecting it as far south as the Midlands.  This is the first time we've had snow in November since 2010, but after weeks of gloom, I was happy that something was happening!  

I grabbed my camera, layered up, laced up my boots and headed into the garden and beyond.

Hydrangea is the gift that keeps on giving; beautiful in every season and especially now, with its transitioning blooms encrusted with ice crystals.

Further up the garden, the pine needles were glistening and bejewelled.

With Christmas closing in, the holly was on point.

Through the garden gate, the dying foliage clung to life under the virgin snow.  I didn't see another soul; the silence only broken by the muffled sounds of my footsteps and chunks of snow falling onto the ground around me (and a little down the back of my neck), disturbed by racing squirrels and landing birds.

I headed up onto the ridge.  Usually, by the time the snow arrives, it's January and the leaves have long since lost their autumn colours, leaving behind smudgy pathways blackened by mud and decay.  Today it looked magical!   

I barely noticed the cold.  Nature's awesome.  These photos were taken less than 3 minutes' walk from my garden gate and to seemingly have it all to myself made me feel very thankful and helped soften the blow of being forced to cancel plans to meet up with a friend today. 

On the way back down, I paused to capture the snow falling against suburban backdrops.

Leaving you with a short highlights video.  Stay cosy!  

First Snow of 2024

This Woman's Work

Maybe it's living on the fringes or in the shade of woodland for much of my life that makes me so drawn to it.  It's always a source of inspiration.  It's grounding; carrying with it the soothing sounds of rustling leaves, hooting owls, chattering squirrels - and has its own very particular smell.  I'd know it blindfolded.

If there were any doubt that we're now firmly in Autumn, our woodland garden has transformed into a haven for those otherwordly beings - fungi.  Here's an oak leaf nestling inside one.

The fairies were nowhere to be found, but I will persevere.

Look at these appropriately spooky beasts, otherwise known as Wrinkled Club Fungus, often found in scattered groups among mossy woodland footpaths - or at the top of our garden.  They take on distinctly ghostly forms.

Talking of strange things, my humble little 2022 woodland photoshoot inspired by all things 1980s and the TV show Stranger Things, got published in a magazine this week.  It's online and in print which is very exciting! 

Seeing my work in print has made my week.  It's always lovely to receive any kind of publicity, but there's really no substitute for leafing through the pages of a magazine.  I do often miss life before the internet and really appreciate the time, dedication and cost of getting a magazine off the ground in our online culture.

It received quite the spread and even featured our 70s V8 Rover P6.

Rewinding to earlier this summer, I ventured to Kinver Edge with Ania, a model friend I've collaborated with on a couple of occasions.  For some reason, this shoot didn't make it into my blog.  So I'll remedy that now by sharing a few of my favourites.  

I wanted to an ethereal vibe, so we opted for natural make up, undone hair and a ruffled white dress to give movement and pop against the green and earthy landscape colours.

We were hoping for shafts of sunlight, but in the event, whilst the day was exceptionally hot, the white blanket clouds stubbornly refused to part company.  I got a little bit experimental with this shot and created my own sun spots in the edit.

The Petal Bar, a gorgeous florist in the market town of Bridgnorth in Shropshire, created a flower crown from eucalyptus and other green foliage.  The eucalyptus aroma filled the air in our home for weeks afterwards.

Despite our early morning visit, we still managed to bump into someone I know, walking her dog.  Typical!  We chatted briefly whilst Ania was touching up her make-up, although she surprisingly didn't bat an eyelid at our activities.  I either give off crazy lady vibes or woodland nymph photo shoots are ten a penny!

With time on our side, I tried out an old photographer's trick of placing crinkled cellophane over the lens.  The jury's out on this one.

We also played around with props; Ania living out her princess fantasy.  For some reason, I felt this image looked better desaturated.

The Rowan trees were plentiful and covered in berries.  For this one, I used a gold reflector, which gave Ania extra glow.

Blair Witch vibes.

Time to hit the forest floor!  

I liked the leaf debris stuck to Ania's arm.  We decided to leave it... communing with nature.

The crown reappeared.

There may have been some leaf throwing.

Finally, a moment of calm and some forest bathing.

But let's not forget, Halloween is almost upon us.  I've been cramming in nightly episodes of the podcast Uncanny (truly spine tingling).  

It's my favourite time of year and I usually create some kind of self portrait to mark the occasion.  Has it really been two years since the Pumpkin Bride?  The late 1960s vintage dress purchased by its original owner for a garden party and never worn was sold to me for a song and definitely deserved to be seen.

So what will this Halloween deliver?  Suggestions on a postcard please.

A Wondercrump Weekend

 Those of you not reared on Roald Dahl books might wonder what this title's all about.  "Wondercrump" is one of Dahl's inventions and pretty much translates as wonderful or splendiferous.  The reason for hijacking it for this blog?  At the weekend, we headed 100 miles south easterly to visit a small village in Buckinghamshire where I spent pretty much a decade of my life - from the age of 11.  

We relocated due to the recession which blighted Thatcher's Britain.  Dad, a master butcher by trade and always up for an adventure, felt that the village would welcome his traditional skills as he took over the village butchery business.  They certainly did.  

This was home during that time, a grade II listed building.  Like several of the high street buildings, it dates back to 17th century, but was subsequently encased in 18th century brickwork.  In its time, it's been a coaching inn, a butcher's shop and now a private residence.

Great Missenden is a small, quintessentially English village nestled in the Chiltern Hills.  We lived right on the bustling High Street (once the main coaching road from London to the Midlands), which boasted a green grocers, bakery, sweet shop (Kandy's), numerous pubs, a hairdresser's, wine shop, book shop and the cutest little vintage shop called Fumbles run by a lovely woman called Win and her friend, Lady Campbell.  I actually think that Fumbles and the fact that London's Camden Market was a mere 30 minute train journey away, cemented my love of vintage fashion.  

The village was thriving at the time and my Dad soon turned the ailing business around.  It was common for customers to be queueing outside on a Saturday morning and despite our strange Black Country accents, we were welcomed with open arms.  

It seems surreal to me now, but the village's proximity to London meant that the area was awash with celebs (even the odd royal) who would often frequent the village shops.  In a strange parallel, I only discovered years later that local Brummie boy Ozzy Osbourne and his family lived just up the road from us during our time in Great Missenden, in a gated manor house, not that we ever laid eyes on him.  I've read interviews with his kids over the years, both of who have referenced places (Kandy's sweet shop being one of them) that played a big part in my childhood.

The most notable resident of the village was the author Roald Dahl, who moved there in the 1950s, taking up residence in Gypsy House.  His tall frame (slightly stooped by age and war injuries) could often be spotted walking around the village in his trademark maroon coloured corduroy trousers.  He soon became a customer of my Dad's and when I became school friends with the daughter of Roald's secretary, her mom organised a visit to his house so that I could get my treasured copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory signed.  My main takeaways from that visit were being shown inside his famous writing hut, discovering that the family dogs had their own room, eating biscuits in the kitchen and being teased by the man himself, who told me: "Your Dad puts sawdust in his sausages!"

The reason I'm sharing this information is that on a return visit several years ago when our son was at the perfect age to appreciate Dahl's books, we took him the Roald Dahl Museum, dedicated to the author's life and work.  The museum was created after his death in 1990 (shortly before we moved back to the Midlands) and I was gobsmacked to discover that my Dad's shop features on the front cover of the official Village Trail and gets a mention too.  It's Number 7 if you're interested, but more of that later.

Towards the end of his life, Roald and his wife Felicity (both keen cooks and foodies), wrote a book - Memories of Food at Gypsy House, in which they again mentioned my Dad's shop.  The author even posed for a photo outside.  I remember the excitement of that day, but nothing more as I was busy being educated.

Here's a photo of the relevant extract and the personal dedication.

The reason for our long overdue 2024 visit was to document the places in and around the village that will always have a special place in my heart.  Like most people, I bitterly regret not taking more photos in my youth.  

Home for the night was a room in Missenden Abbey, a conference/wedding venue with accommodation.  The Abbey's history stretches back over 800 years. Strap in or scroll down! It was founded by a group of Augustinian Cannons from Arrouaise in Northern France.  It was a favourite stop over for Henry III who enjoyed the hospitality of the Abbot on numerous occasions.  

With the dissolution of the monasteries, the land was forfeited to the crown and eventually left by Henry VIII to his daughter, Elizabeth.  Soon after her accession to the throne, Elizabeth granted the Abbey to her favourite, Robert, Earl of Leicester and he in turn in 1574 to Sir William Fleetwood, Recorder of London and MP for the city.

The Fleetwoods retained the Abbey as a manor house until the mid 18th century when the male line died out.  

In 1806, after the previous rich ironmonger owner died, it was purchased by John Ayton, who again largely rebuilt the Abbey and left the Neo-Gothic structure as it is today.

The Gothic Summerhouse

In 1815 the Abbey was purchased by a family of West Indian Planters (the Carringtons) who settled down in Bucks and devoted themselves to managing their extensive farms in Missenden and other villages in the county.  

The Carringtons remained in occupation until 1946 when the family sold the house to Buckinghamshire County Council for use as an Adult Learning College.

Other fun facts.  It's said to be haunted by a monk and a woman in black.  The Chiltern Hospital (just down the road) was originally a convent linked to the Abbey by underground tunnels.  Here, another monk is said to haunt the building.  The story alleges that he took his own life by slitting his throat after being caught with a nun in 1297.  There's also a direct descendant from Newton's apple tree in the grounds.

Here's the part of the Abbey's history that I remember - the major fire of 1985 - which gutted the entire interior.  I remember the sirens and the fire service draining all of the well heeled villagers' swimming pools to help put out the flames.  But the Abbey was faithfully restored to its earlier splendour, including vaulted rooms, the ceremonial staircase, stained glass and ornate plasterwork; an incredible feat of craftsmanship following the architectural traditions of the original building.  This was completed within three years and the new building was officially reopened by HRH the Duke of Gloucester.  

Since the 1990s, the Abbey has been owned by Buckinghamshire New University.

So, after the history lesson, let's see the sights!  I'll incorporate the places referenced on the Roald Dahl village trail, but expect some of my memories and a few of my additions own too!

1.  The library.  In Roald Dahl's Matilda, the central character was often left at the library while her Mom went off to play Bingo in Aylesbury.

2.  The Station.  Roald Dahl wrote a railway safety guide for children, published after his death.  Teenage me could also often be found waiting for her train to Camden on this platform, with the intention of hoovering up vintage Levis and silver jewellery.

3.  The Roald Dahl Museum, diagonally opposite my former home.  The building now bears the words of the author and a mural of the BFG.  The gates were donated by Warner Brothers (the gates featured in the 2005 version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory proved to be too big). 

4.  The Petrol Pumps.

The petrol pumps at 64 High Street inspired the description of the garage in Danny the Champion of the World.  "It was a very small filling station on a small country road, surrounded by fields and woody hills."  Danny the Champion of the World (1975).  Roald Dahl also worked for Shell Oil after he left school.  You can read about that in his book Going Solo (1986).

And because they're so pretty, here's a photo of them under cover of darkness.

5.  Crown House.  This timer framed private residence was the inspiration for the orphanage ("norphanage") in the BFG.

6.  The Church of St Peter and Paul, via the picturesque Church Lane.

It's here that Roald Dahl is buried.  His grave is relatively modest.  Since we left, a memorial bench bearing the names of his children and a poignant quote from The Giraffe, the Pelly and Me has been added:  

"We have tears in our eyes as we wave our goodbyes, 

We so loved being with you we three,

So do please now and then come and see us again,

The Giraffe and the Pelly and me."

There are two giant footsteps leading to the grave.

We had a wander around the old graveyard, higher up the hill.  As I may have mentioned, I love exploring old graveyards...

...but on this day, at this time, we suddenly experienced a wave of overwhelming sadness, thinking of time and people passing, so headed back into the village.

7.  Number 7 on the village trail is The Butcher's.  You can read it here for yourselves.  

Roald-Dahl-Museum-village-trail.pdf (b-cdn.net)

But for added authenticity, here are a couple of photos, courtesy of my Mom.

8.  Buryfields.  This is a play park and amenity ground often frequented by dog walkers.  You can see from the rain laden sky that April is fast approaching.

9.  I once did a school project on this property, one of the oldest in the village.  The oak panelling inside was something to behold.

10.  I received my very first pay packet inside this pub, after a brief stint as a waitress.

11.  Once Town End Farm, I recall visiting the farmer's wife, May, and her sister, shortly after moving here.  I would sometimes deliver their order to the farm house.  Even as a child, the farm house seemed from another time.  I can remember a busy kitchen with a huge pine table, plate racks and fly paper dangling from the ceiling.

12.  House of Letters

Another way I made money as a teen, was to help an elderly lady with failing eyesight stay in touch with her friends.  Remember when people used to hand write letters?  Well, I would sit and studiously write this woman's letters as she dictated expressively to me -  "Dear Bunty..." - all the time thinking which album I would buy with the proceeds.

13.  A collection of cottages and handsome houses.

As you might imagine, nothing really changes in a place like this.  The community spirit still seems evident, but most of the people I knew have moved on or passed on.

14.  The Misbourne River

The mysterious River Misbourne...sometimes visible, sometimes not.  In order to stop this blog from spiralling out of control, I'll pop a link here by way of explanation.   River Misbourne - Wikipedia   It's certainly in rude health now.

15.  The Woods.

After grabbing a hot drink back at the hotel, we ventured out once again and via the back lanes of Missenden, passing Roald Dahl's old house (now occupied by Sophie Dahl and family)... 

...we headed into Hobbs Hill Wood.  For the vast majority of my life I've lived very close to woodland, starting with my time in Great Missenden.  I just feel at home amongst trees and love the nocturnal sounds emanating from them.

Soon, hunger pangs and the dying sunlight persuaded us to retrace our steps towards the village.  We took a slightly different route back and just in time, I was able to capture this stunning pink sunset over Angling Spring Wood, which, incidentally, is said to have inspired Fantastic Mr Fox. Could I have asked for a better memory of our single night stay?

16.  To the pub!

In the Victorian era, Great Missenden was home to no less than 11 public houses.  It's lost a few over the years, but there's still plenty of choice.  We opted for The Cross Keys and enjoyed quite possibly the best fish and chips we have ever eaten.  I even braved the mushy peas, which would probably be better described as "smashed, minted peas" using chefy terminology!  

Above the fireplace it says "Time is precious...waste it wisely."

The place was bustling and the staff and customers very friendly.

There was a wedding celebration in full swing by the time we returned to Missenden Abbey.  In the past, we have been known to gate crash the odd wedding, but decided to behave ourselves on Saturday night and retired to our room for a nightcap and the late film.

Sunday dawned bright and breezy, but I had a couple of places still to visit.  In fact, there was quite a list, but I always need an excuse to return!  

Where were we?  Number 17 I think.

The excellent 2009 stop motion film version of Fantastic Mr Fox (voiced by George Clooney) features The Nag's Head pub.  Here's a film still.

Now, compare it to the real thing.  Can you see the resemblance?  This was Roald Dahl's favourite pub.

Back in the High Street, I had to photograph this gorgeous Corvette Stingray.  I tried to tell the owner that it would suit me way better, but would he listen?

Somewhat reluctantly, we got behind the wheel of our VW Beetle and said goodbye to Great Missenden, heading just a few miles out to Great Hampden and our final destination.

18.  Hampden House.

Fans of classic British horror might recall the 1980s TV series Hammer House of Horror.  Hampden House was purchased by and served as the HQ of Hammer Films during the filming of the series, popping up in many of the thirteen episodes, as well as featuring in the opening credits.

You can read its fascinating film history here:  Hampden House, Gt. Hampden - Hammer House of Horror TV Series

The red kites were circling, but my lens wasn't up to the job so you'll have to take my words for it!

The house is now a very swanky wedding venue (and also once again on my radar).

Sadly, it was time to head home, but we couldn't resist briefly followed the footpath running in front of the property into an area of woodland, only to be rewarded by the sight of this beautiful specimen.  No, not Gareth.  A Giant Redwood.

From one Big Friendly Giant to another.  A fitting way to end my nostalgia trip.