Tag Archives: Dartmoor

Folktales: Hearthfolk

In my book The Spellbinding Secret of Avery Buckle, Avery meets a character called Knuckle. He is broad-shouldered, with hands the size of teapots. He has black freckles clustering his shoulders, arms, and hairline, and every time he sneezes, sparkling embers … Continue reading

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Folktales: Scottish Faeries and ‘othering’

I’ve written in my previous post about the Cat Fae element of Avery’s character in my book, The Spellbinding Secret of Avery Buckle. For those of you who don’t know, one of Avery’s secrets is that she is a Cat Fae. … Continue reading

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Castles

I read Kathleen Jamie’s book of essays, Surfacing, over January. As you would expect from Jamie, it’s a beautiful selection. She explores the life transitions going on in her own family against the background of an archaeological dig in Alaska, … Continue reading

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Bennett’s Cross

On Dartmoor there is a crooked stone cross beside the road between Moretonhampstead and Postbridge. Folklore has it that the cross was erected as a boundary marker by a tin miner named William Bennett in the 16th century. Looking out across … Continue reading

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Bluebells

It’s official. I have passed! Now it’s over to the NMC (Nursing and Midwifery Council) to issue me with my PIN and I will be back on the register. I start my job as a District Nurse next Tuesday, working … Continue reading

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Sounds in the dark

One of the things I love about getting up early and heading out on my bike of a morning is the sounds I hear. The change in the clocks meant it was dark again when I set off this morning … Continue reading

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Walks Diary

This weekend I was, at last, able to add another walk to my Walks Diary. I started this diary in the New Year and it hasn’t been going well. A cocktail of endless family illnesses, snow, and building chaos meant … Continue reading

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More

The other day Finch broke my necklace. It wasn’t just any old necklace. It was the necklace Big Dreamer gave me when Wren was born. It has five little stars on it, one for each of us. I wear it … Continue reading

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The private life of ladybirds

It has been so hot here. All the doors and windows of the house are flung wide open. Wren sleeps in just her nappy but only fitfully. She wakes up grumpy, her curls plastered to the back of her neck. … Continue reading

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Waymarkers

When do you think a regular activity becomes a tradition? This is our second year in Devon, Wren’s first Christmas, and Finch’s first Christmas that makes any sense to him. I think it’s a lovely phase in the life of … Continue reading

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