We got our ‘Indian Summer’ – ten warm bright sunny days to remember before the storm season arrives. The light is shallower now, and the days are cooler but still warm enough to sit out and do some writing. My new book is taking shape with a sharper focus on the power barons and their plotting to accrete more resources.

And the veggies keep coming. From just one cucumber plant, we have cropped plenty of fat stubby fruits and the carrots have got going to give a bumper harvest. I have learnt a lot about pickling in these dog days of summer. And the chardonnay grape vine has got some fruit at long last, but those green pearls are as sharp as they look. Might do better next year as I have bought a book of instructions for winemakers.

We have now passed the autumnal equinox, and the clocks will return to wintertime soon. It can be a melancholy time like the fading of the cherry blossom in the Japanese springtime, ‘mono no aware’, so let’s enjoy the end of summer show of pink anemones and ruby sedums, and the vibrant red lilies and orange pokers.  

Come back next month for news of the autumnal clear-out and the book about medical gang warfare at ‘Angies’.

There have been fabulous sightings of natural phenomena this month – the aurora borealis, the Perseid meteor showers, and the super moon- but we missed the lot because of fog. Yes, days on end of it, rolling in from the sea and up over the cliffs shrouding everything in damp candy floss for days. 

And then the sun came back, burned off the peasouper so we could feel its warmth and see the chapel on the peninsular once again.  

And the veggies have gone crackers in these warm humid days, broken by intense rain and then burning sunshine. Harvesting chard, courgettes, beetroot, spinach, cucumbers and beans has been fun but I have learnt that it is followed by much hard work preparing the soups, ratatouille and casseroles for the freezer, and the pickles for the store cupboard. The comforting thought is all that goodness will make for healthy bones, guts and teeth.  

Sadly, the summer garden is coming to its end as the season turns back to shorter days and chillier evenings. So, it’s one more time to enjoy the rosa ragusa’s dense musky perfume and its glorious ruby red hips; walking the beach and the cliff tops in the early evening while looking out for dolphins and seals that have been sighted further down the coast; and appreciating nature’s muted pink palette and the magnificent white and blue agapanthuses that grow wild in these parts.  

With all the closed-in weather, I have been working on the characters for my new book. As I recall the gangs of medics at war, I find myself back in those wild west days dominated by individuals with the ‘God complex’ as they fought for their turf. The memories are still vivid so when it is all too much, a stroll in the garden fixes things.  

And of Louisa’s Lament? I have been working on a screenplay, ever hopeful of the book becoming a movie in the style of the recently launched Veuve Clicquot. Check it out. 

Comeback next month for news of the turning season and maybe of an Indian Summer…. 

Been busy doing almost nothing, just watching the sea roll in and out of the bay while Peter the lobster man sinks his pots and marker buoys, and an eagle-eyed gull waits patiently for a share of his catch. Given the changing weather pattern, it is good to just enjoy the fine sunny days when they arrive.

This time of year, everything takes care of itself mostly, especially the muddle of self-seeded plants making for lazy days in the sunshine. Grateful to the bright scarlet salt-hardy fuchsias, and the ubiquitous daisy-like erigerons and blue agapanthuses that grow wild in these parts, for not wanting much attention.

On such days, energetic types get in their RHIBs and blast themselves round the bay over to the Rame peninsula’s lovely beach and medieval chapel atop it. Makes you tired just watching it all.

And as for progress with my next book, the garden room awaits its writer who has been busy watching the world go by while thinking about the characters and scene sets. Work starts soon(ish).

Come back next month for a progress report on this and the big veggie harvesting.

Nothing like a warm June evening for a walk along the beach after the visitors have gone. I never cease to wonder at the cleansing power of the six-hourly rhythm of the tide to refresh all. Further landslips arising from the winter’s storms will add to this rock pile soon, creating more coves as the coastline is resculpted before our eyes.

After much hard work, often in grim wet conditions, the new wall of local stone with its subtle hues of honey, greys and blues, is now finished.  The winter’s rain has resulted in an abundance of glorious roses like the prolific pink carpet roses which have already grown into the space, boisterously spilling over to reach for the new shingle path.

And there is much more; June’s first blooms include my favourite carmine red climbing rose, a laid-back apricot rose shrub rose, and a muddle of barbie pink and white roses that hug the oversized and now misshapen Buxus ‘ball’.

And delicate self-seeded poppies just grow in any old place.

Over in the west end garden, the new veggie planters have been filled with compost and seeds. The first crop of chard, beets, radishes, and courgettes is ready. Next will come the beans, lettuces, spinach, carrots, spuds and outdoor tomatoes. And next month, we will sow the onion, parsnip and pepper seeds. Having finished the marathon read of Middlemarch, cultivating veggies is now my obsession.

The long miserable winter’s blasting storms are a distant memory as we now have so much to enjoy. All that rain is now invested in the flourishing greens and self-seeded plants that line the lower garden path and the steps down to the house.

I promise to do some book work next month! Come back in four weeks to check progress on gang warfare at Angie’s – a block buster in the vein of the Godfather.

Forget the Chelsea Flower Show, it’s all happening here in the Cornwall garden. The sun has returned and the repairs to the storm-damaged walls and paths have been completed

And we have had a special visitor to inspect the works while newly self-seeded plants have popped up everywhere.

Old favourites, Rosa and Wisty, have burst into life now that the storms have abated, and their delicate fragrances concentrate by the late afternoon .

But it’s all go in the bay where the gulls hassle the local fisherman as he catches the key ingredient for our local pub’s magnificent fish pie.

Come back next time for more news of the book’s progress and have a look at what the RCN has to say about Louisa’s Lament:

https://www.rcn.org.uk/news-and-events/Blogs/louisas-lament-where-history-meets-fiction

Relief! It’s stopped raining and it has been pleasant enough to walk out in the evening to enjoy the last of the soft light warming the bay. But much inclement weather has damaged the cliffs and worryingly, landslips are evident everywhere.

And spring has sprung. Up early are the arum lilies. Who would have thought that these statuesque flowers would emerge from the piles of  mush that they were in the terraces only a few weeks ago.

Sweeps of clematis montana are out and about showing the still bare apple tree how to blossom while the ubiquitous rosemary waterfalls are still tumbling over the front terraces.

Sadly all the lavenders have died on lavender hill as the weather has been too harsh. Before the erigerons take over, we are going to try planting more agapanthuses. They are tough enough to stand the salt blasting on this exposed site.

But for now, it’s enough to just enjoy the evening light and sound of calm waters.

Not much writing work on the book this month but some research and contemplation so…

…come back next month for news of gang warfare at Angies.

March winds! Storm force, constantly barrelling in and dumping biblical amounts of rain soaking everything and everyone. There is no place to hide, you just need to get indoors. Fast.

I was planting the new honeysuckles and poppies in the sun when I noticed the signs of the storm coming. It starts with a stiff cold breeze, then the sky darkens and you see the white caps picking up on the water. That’s when you drop everything and run.

It takes moments to go from rough waters in the bay to broiling, highly energised sea that is unforgiving as it throws everything at you.

All that salt-blasting and water is very corrosive but some plants love the stuff. The rosemary waterfalls and hellebores in the front terraces guzzle it up.

We are still repairing last season’s storm damage and building new terraces over in the garden’s west end. Despite the inclement weather, Jason and Lazlo have been converting rather unpromising sand, cement and stone into beautiful walls, new paths and steps.

While watching the storm from indoors, a strange bird flew by…..

Come back next time to see the spring planting, and get news of my next book about gang warfare at a big teaching hospital.

Rain, loads of it, every day, soaking wet everywhere. Howling high winds, rolling sea mists and icy wild water, constantly. But on Chinese New Year Day, the sun came out for us.

Despite the weather, the spring garden is firing up: hellebores, daffodils and primroses:

And for Chinese New Year, the camellias came early giving a lovely pop of brilliant red.

Nian nian kuai le!  and welcome to the year of the dragon.

A break in the storms barrelling in off the ocean gives clear skies as the sun goes down resulting in freezing cold nights. Ships’ lights start to appear on the horizon as they wait to come into port in the next bay and as it gets darker, the night sky show begins. A zillion stars shine like a spray of diamonds in the inky black sky. It is worth braving the intense cold to go out and watch the display.

The days are icy cold too making it hard to work outdoors so reading is the order for most days. But out on the water, some hardy souls swim and canoe.

Despite the wintery temperatures, there are the first signs of spring: daffodils with a pop of pink from a sole primrose. The heathers have survived and are trying while the agapanthuses down in the secret garden look very healthy despite the constant salt blasting and the frost.

The storm damage repairs are ongoing, but take a look at these new steps and pathway to the upper terraces. That golden stone exudes warmth in the watery sunshine.

My next book on medical politics and research fraud is coming along and I have been on a screenplay writer’s course to prepare for the movie work of LOUISA’S LAMENT.
Jump into patoakleypublishing.london to get a copy and let me know what you think about who should play which of the four women’s roles in the story.

And come back next time for a burst of spring and more news of the new book.

Season’s Greetings Kind People

It has been a busy year with the launch of my book LOUISA’S LAMENT in the spring. A Big Thank You to all who have purchased a copy and contributed to the fundraisers. We made enough money in the first six months to donate £7,000.00 to this year’s charity, Birkbeck College’s Student Support Fund.

I attended the College’s 200^th Anniversary Dinner at Mansion House recently where Princess Anne, who is the Chancellor of London University, gave the oration. The history of Birkbeck supporting working people is legend and you can see a clip made by the College and a pic of Princess Anne cutting the College’s birthday cake on my publishing website – jump into patoakleypublishing.london and click the ‘news’ tab.

Have a Happy New Year with lots of Tunnock’s and I’ll update you on the new book at the end of January.