Postcard from a Seaside Garden in January

I was planning to go full hedgehog and hibernate this January, but the jet stream – the high winds about five miles up – has been moving at full throttle to drive intense lows that have caused three successive storms to blast in from the ocean. Storms Goretti, Ingrid and Chandra have wreaked havoc on land fall and brought biblical level rains riding in on gale force winds. It’s very scary as the rain driven horizontal by the winds pound the rattling windows. All you can think about is will they hold?

But, as ever, the calm returns so the clear up can begin.

And then what? Sea foam, loads of it, and surfers, yes surfers in that icy cold sea. We need to add an extra line to the old song ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun…’

The poor seaside garden has been well watered and salt blasted. Lord knows how this delicate quince managed to hang on in the winds. But the hardy front terrace shrubs and agapanthuses took it all in their stride.

On my new book about medical politics and fraud, there is progress as the first five chapters are going in for a test read, edit and format. This will set up everything for a print-ready manuscript that the printers will need in due course. And June, the artist, is about to put brush to canvas to create the artwork for the book’s cover. 

And of Louisa’s Lament, a short article by a VIP will be published shortly in Guy’s Hospital Gazette to mark its 200th anniversary. This tragic story is about to get some light shone on it to recognise the pioneering nurses who in 1880 stepped out of Florence Nightingale’s shadow to create one the finest Schools of Nursing now based at King’s College, London University. Hooray for the reforming but despised Matron Burt, and her acolytes: Miss Louisa Ingle, who got done in by the medics; Miss Margaret Lonsdale, who flamed the conflict with her combative style; and Miss Victoria Jones, who, with Matron Burt, picked up all the broken pieces and got Guy’s back on its feet after the Great Nursing Dispute.

Have a Happy Chinese New Year as we welcome the year of the Horse 18th February, a most auspicious year, and please come back next month for more about the new book and its band of sociopaths who wreaked havoc in other people’s lives.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in December

The winter solstice has passed and the light is coming back. It’s quite uplifting after the biblical rainstorms, high winds and stygian gloom we have had in recent weeks. The great Christmas winddown after such a difficult year is ongoing and nothing is stirring. Nothing; it is so quiet out here on the western reaches of England facing the ocean.

On my new book, there is progress. June Schneider, the artist who is preparing the cover illustration, having done such a brilliant job on the artwork for Louisa’s Lament, has done the mock-ups and photo shoots ready to start the painting in the new year. She worked in watercolours last time, but this time, we’ve decided to use oils for more depth, more gravity. She has really caught the sinister mood of the out-of-control sociopaths. We were inspired by a viewing of the National Gallery’s exhibition of Wright of Derby’s work. He uses underlighting to focus the eye on individuals’ faces, much like Rembrandt. On the developing text, the first 20k words are going into the test read and edit phase next. Then it’s a clear 12 week run for a writing blitz.

So, it’s farewell to the year with one last look at the seaside garden. The hardy heathers, leathery hellebores and skimmias are really toughing it out to survive in such harsh conditions.

And there are a few pops of sunshine yellow provided by the early daffodils and primroses to remind us that spring is on the way.

Here’s hoping that you have a happy and peaceful 2026, full of Tunnocks treats to see in the new year. I’m singing my party piece ‘Mairi’s Wedding’ this year at a traditional Hogmanay. It’s so jolly and full of hope.

Please come back next time for more news as the story of everyday sociopaths unravelling before your eyes, and June’s painting of them, takes shape.