Author Archives: Judith Barrow

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About Judith Barrow

Pattern of Shadows was my first novel, the sequel, Changing Patterns was published in May 2013. The last of the trilogy, Living in the Shadows was published July 2015. In August 2017, the prequel to the trilogy, A Hundred Tiny Threads,was published. In March 2010, The Memory was published by Honno, a contemporary family saga. I also have an eBook, Silent Trauma, a fiction built on fact novel, published as an eBook. I have an MA in Creative Writing, B.A. (Hons.) in Literature, and a Diploma in Drama and Script Writing. I've had short stories, poems, plays, reviews and articles published throughout the British Isles, notably in several Honno anthologies. I am also a Creative Writing tutor and run workshops on all genres and available for talks and workshops.My blogs are on my website: https://judithbarrowblog.com/ where I review,interview other authors, and generally write about walks & photographs. At the moment I'm running a series of posts called Places in our memories, where writers talk about somewhere that brings back a memory. Always happy to hear from anyone who would like to join in with that. When I'm not writing or teaching creative writing I spend time researching for my writing, painting or walking the Pembrokeshire coastline

Where We Walked #The National Botanical Gardens #Carmarthen #Wales #Walks #Photographs

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Or rather sauntered, because that’s the only way to take in these glorious grounds and to study the abundance of plants that are Indigenous to so many countries in the world’s largest single-span glasshouse.

The National Botanic Garden is located at Llanarthney in the River Tywi valley, Carmarthenshire, Wales, not too far from our home. So, not only are we lucky enough to live near the stunning Pembrokeshire coast, these impressive gardens are also almost on our doorstep. How fortunate are we!

And, on the day of our visit we had the one day of glorious weather that week.

The National Botanic Garden of Wales is on the former Middleton Estate.

Middleton Manor. Image courtesy of Landed families of Britain and Ireland:https://tinyurl.com/3ffsxv9p

The Middleton Estate was so named after the three Middleton brothers from Chester, who helped set up the East India Company in 1600 in order to trade in highly profitable spices.

Two hundred years later, in 1789, William Paxton returned to Britain from being the Master of the Mint in Bengal for the East India Company. With the fortune he had made in India and together with his business associate, Charles Cockerell he employed Charles’ brother the architect Samuel Pepys Cockerell to design Middleton Manor. Paxton had the park laid out: planting trees, damming streams to form four lakes and waterfalls, having bridges and bath houses built. He also had a folly constructed to commemorate Nelson’s heroic deeds in the Battle of Trafalgar, named Paxton’s Tower.

In the 1930s there was a fire that destroyed Middleton Manor. The remains were subsequently demolised in 1954. Only the foundations arestill visible.

Ty Melyn is now a venue for conferences, board meetings, training days. seminars, presentations, exhibitions etc.

Other buildings which survived were the stable buildings (now a café (( delicious food!!)) a gallery and offices) an ice-house and the double-walled garden with the remains of its Peach-house.

There is/has been acknowledgement of the unease about the heritage of the land that the Botanical Gardens stands on. Read more on this: https://tinyurl.com/227k9eyc. And there is an excellent article written by Meurig Williams under the umbrella of Nation Cymru: https://tinyurl.com/52v3ckf5.

But this shouldn’t detract from the initial and ongoing aims of National Botanic Garden of Wales, which is a charity backed by the Welsh Government. Since its opening it has been dedicated to research, conservation of biodiversity and sustainability, and lifelong learning and the enjoyment of the visitor.

Opened in May 2000, the site of the gardens was partly chosen because it was an example of the grand scale garden design of past eras. And the fundamental principles of the National Botanic Garden of Wales are strictly adhered to.

We’ve visited the gardens many times over the years, different times, different seasons, for different events. There is always much to see, much to enjoy.

This time I also learned that a certain Welsh Suffragette lived here at one time. During my research for the prequel of my Haworth Series, A Hundred Tiny Threads, I discovered that many Welsh Suffragettes and Suffragists joined the peaceful march to London in 1913. I’ve given many talks on that event. Tempted to write a post about her…

My Review of This Cold Night (Cold Case Book 3)  by Thorne Moore #Crime

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Book Description:

2011. Redemption House is a godly retreat for the Brothers and Sister rescued from life on the streets. But when sudden fortune comes to Sister Grace, all peace vanishes—and so does Sister Grace.
2024. Family is an issue for Rosanna Quillan, still nursing the trauma of her mother’s suicide. At sixteen, she left home, to escape the misery, and that’s why she feels compel to pursue the search for a girl who did the same, sixteen years before. What became of Lianne, the girl that everyone liked, but nobody missed?
Rosanna’s quest leads to suspicion, deception and murder. Because not everyone wants Lianne’s mystery solved.

My Review:

This, the third in the Cold Case series, provides yet another riveting complex case for Rosanna Quillan. As usual, Thorne Moore leads us in one direction so that it seems inevitable that a crime will be solved in a certain way – and then, ultimately, take us unawares.

In the past I have said that whichever genre this author writes in, there is one thing any reader can be certain of when holding one of her books in their hands. That they will have a well written “absorbing story, with an innovative plot, meticulous settings that instantly give a sense of place, minor characters they will often either love or hate, and a protagonist with whom they will empathise.”

And This Cold Night is no exception. I enjoyed reading and following Rosanna Quillin’s investigations into Lianne Michaels’s mysterious disappearance, while, at the same time, she struggles with her own past. I’m just glad she has the reliable and loving Gethin by her side. (Giving no spoilers here to prospective readers – but hopefully just enough temptation, because this is a story that anyone who loves crime fiction, threaded throughout with the everyday life of the protagonist, won’t want to miss!)

I’m not normally a reader of crime fiction per se, but this series isn’t only the solving of crime – well I don’t think so, anyway. We get to know Rosanna: the historical background intricacies of her career, her personal life, her weaknesses and strengths, her relationships, past and present. Even Rosanna, when trying to understand what she’s doing, says herself that, “she’s now not sure how to describe her career, except that it involved detection…“

I was gripped by this series from the start. The first book – Best Served Cold – started Rosanna Quillin’s journey as a detective. I reviewed that book here.

The second of this series, Cold In The Earth, reviewed here, revealed even more of Rosanna’s past and her own doubts, failings, and sucesses that have lead her to this point in her life.

So, I was extremely pleased to read that this third book, This Cold Night had been published.

And, now I’ve read it, I’m equally pleased to be able to recommend it. No reader who, not only enjoys crime fiction, but likes a book that brings characters to life, and a puzzle to be solved, will be disappointed

I will only add one thing – although they are stand alone books,to get the most out of the Cold Case Book series, I would suggest to anyone that they read these books in the order they were published.

My Review of Hopes, Fears and Reality: Stories, Poems and Personal Tales by Alex Craigie

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Book Description:

Hopes, Fears and Reality

What do a terrified boy, a ruthless beauty queen, a fairy godmother from hell, and a group of quietly rebellious pensioners have in common?

In this eclectic collection of short stories, poems, and anecdotes, everyday moments uncover the hopes we cherish, the fears we try to hide, and the realities that shape us.

Inside this collection:

• Gently humorous pieces that find laughter in life’s small absurdities
• Reflective moments that explore the experiences that shape who we are
• Sharper, unexpected stories that catch you off guard and linger

Meet unforgettable characters and moments:

• A child facing what lurks beneath the bed
• A teenager consumed by image
• Elderly friends with secrets—and mischief—of their own
• Twists on the familiar that don’t go quite as expected

Many of these pieces are brief and powerful, born from creative challenges—flash fiction, structured poetry, and writing shaped by rules and constraints—alongside glimpses drawn from real life.

Perfect for readers who enjoy:

• Short, impactful reads
• A mix of humour, reflection, and edge
• Dipping in and out whenever time allows

Open the book anywhere.
There’s always something waiting—something to make you smile, pause, or see things a little differently.

My Review:

I’ve long been an admirer of Alex Craigie’s writing, so I was thrilled to discover that she has published this collection entitled Hopes, Fears and Reality.

Over the years she has produced an extensive range of genre. From her earlier books, stories threaded through with themes that provoke thought – to her wonderfully successful series of all things that were (and perhaps in some cases, still are) beloved by Baby Boomers. These later books, entitled The Rat In The Python, contain brilliant descriptions and images (whether clothes, shops, furniture, and household appliances) evoke memories for those of us at a certain age, and/or gasps of amazement and even disbelief in younger readers.


But I digress, this review is about Hopes, Fears and Reality. And the title says it all for me. In this book whether it’s in prose or poetry there are those moments in life that live forever in our memories. The characters we meet are multi-layered and unforgettable, their dialogue individual and reveal personalities, and the settings of the stories all give a brilliant sense of place.

I have favourites in this anthology, there are too many to list them all, so I’ll just mention one or two: Fear from the Past will stay with me, as will the poems Alone and Our World of Beauty and Hope. I chuckled at Stayin’ Alive and I was fascinated by the anecdotes of the author’s grandparents.

Alex Craigie’s work consistently portrays the emotions she intends to reveal in everything she writes. and instantly evoke a response in the reader.

And so I have no hesitation in recommending Hopes, Fears and Reality to any reader. Please read and savour every word.

Where We Walked @Slebech Park Country Estate @Pembrokeshire @Wales

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This morning, with the weather fine, though a little chilly, we wrap up and take another of our favourite walks. As usual, Slebech Park Country Estate doesn’t fail to provide great views, some glorious wild flowers, and impressively maintained grounds.

Over the years we’ve visited the park many times, in all weathers, at all times of the year. Maybe Spring is our favourite season here – or maybe summer – or autumn – or even winter, when even the bleakness of the days can’t detract from the scenery.

We’ve walked the trail from Canaston Bridge, always looking forward to our first glimpse of the Cleddau. Sometimes, as a tidal river, the water is low, the mud flats glistening in the sun, sometimes it’s high, lapping quietly against the banks, and with ducks and seagulls floating on the surface alongside one another.

Today, though, is different. Not wanting to walk along the usual, longer path from Canaston Bridge, we park in a layby alongside the busy road to Haverfordwest, climb stiles, walk along a rough track – muddy from recent rain – and alongside the estate farm.

And say hello to the lambs, in the nearby field, who fix their eyes on us until we are safely past them.

This morning the tide is in.

But the ducks are quite elusive. Except for one!

We saunter around the park, conscious that we are actually carrying out a recce for a stroll for members of our local U3a: somewhere fairly flat, easy walking … and no stiles!!

With moments when we are able to stop – to admire – to just be! …

Time for lunch! We walk back to the car, having established that a stroll around the estate will be enjoyed by all.

The history of Slebech Park:

The origin of the word Slebech is thought by some to be derived from a Viking term meaning “Stoney Beach.” It is likely that Vikings sailed inland to Slebech on raiding parties and, upon seeing its commanding position on the river and small harbor, viewed it as a place of refuge. Slebech has long held a significant place in the history of Wales. From the 6th century onwards, it served as a major meeting point for pilgrims traveling to St. David’s Cathedral. Over the centuries, it has been visited by notable figures including William the Conqueror, Henry II, Edward I, and Queen Eleanor.

The estate’s history is intertwined with social stratifications of the time, as it hosted lands divided for the rich and poor. A “Beggars’ Field” is believed to have existed, though its location remains undiscovered. In recognition of its importance, Pope Calixtus decreed that two visits to St. David’s equaled one pilgrimage to Rome.
The oldest building standing today is the Norman tower in the estate’s 12th-century church. Likely part of a watchtower, it strategically overlooks the river. This site was connected to other Norman castles, forming a defensive line across Pembrokeshire. During the 13th and 14th centuries, Slebech became home to Wales’s most powerful monastic foundation, managed by the Knights of St. John (formerly the Knights Templar, now known as St. John’s Ambulance). The hospice here made Slebech a crucial gathering point for knights embarking on crusades. In fact, knights killed in foreign battles had their hearts pickled and reburied in the church crypt and on Dog Island, now a Scheduled Ancient Monument. A 12th-century sword, found on Dog Island, is now displayed in the Welsh National Museum.
Slebech’s prominence waned during Henry VIII’s Reformation when the powerful Commandery was disbanded, and its lands were redistributed. Today, only the 12th-century church, some tunnels, and remnants of thick walls from Slebech Hall remain from this period. The rest of the estate’s medieval structures were destroyed during the English Civil War.
After being sold by the Crown, the estate came into the hands of Roger Barlow, a powerful Tudor gentleman and close confidant of Henry VIII. An adventurer, Barlow sailed with the Spanish fleet on voyages to the Americas. The Barlow family owned Slebech until the 18th century, when Catherine Barlow inherited the estate. Catherine married Sir William Hamilton, but died childless in 1782. Sir William later married Lady Emma Hamilton, famous for her affair with Admiral Lord Nelson. When Sir William died, he was buried alongside his first wife, Catherine, in Slebech’s old churchyard.
Slebech Hall, one of Wales’s finest Georgian manor houses, was constructed in the 1750s. It was reputedly designed by architect Anthony Keck, also believed to have designed Highgrove House, home to Prince Charles. Around the same time, the estate’s modest granary buildings were transformed into stables and coach houses, some of which still retain their original charm today. These buildings were castellated, inspired by nearby Picton Castle. Slebech Hall remains largely intact and is Grade II* listed, with future plans to restore it to its original grandeur and incorporate it into the hotel operations.
The estate later passed to Nathaniel Phillips, a Jamaican sugar plantation owner known for his duels and his marriage at 65 to a 19-year-old heiress from Picton Castle. His daughter, Mary Dorothea, married Baron De Rutzen, an eccentric figure who built the “back to front” church on the A40, an imposing structure still standing today. The family line ended with John Frederick Foley, who died in Italy during WWII.
During WWII, Slebech was used by the US Army as they prepared for D-Day, with local lore suggesting a Willis jeep remains submerged in the estate’s lake—a symbol of youthful folly.
Eventually, the estate was sold to the Honorable William Phillips, father of Geoffrey Mark Phillips, who began the current hotel operation. The Phillips name quietly exited the estate’s history in 2013, marking the beginning of a new chapter.
Today, Slebech Park continues to welcome travelers, just as it has for over a thousand years. With its rich history, bespoke bedrooms, fine dining, and serene walks through stunning landscapes, Slebech offers a truly historic and unique destination that embodies both luxury and heritage.

The above history of the estate is courtesy of: https://www.slebech.co.uk/

Where We Walked The Triangle #LochRannoch #Kinloch Rannoch #Scotland

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Or rather strolled!.This walk was part of a couple of the short walks we had over our stay as guests with one of the members at the Loch Rannoch Highland Club.

It truly is a wonderful place to stay, with every one of the lodges overlooking Loch Rannoch. The Photographer took this photo on our first night we arrived. We were hooked! It snowed, but soon cleared and we had four glorious days. The Triangle walk was an easy morning’s stroll that we found on the third day.

We’d previously passed a stone on the edge of the grounds of the club. That morning we stopped to read the inscription.

Hmm – not a cheerful tale! The Clach-a-Mharslin (Stone of the Packman) is the legend of a pedlar, travelling with a pack slung over his shoulders. Sitting down by the stone to rest, he put his pack on top of the stone. The pack slipped down the back of the stone, the loop tightening around his neck. Trapped, the heavy pack strangled him.

The Triangle walk is exactly what it says: we headed south from the loch to Kinloch Rannoch. Following our map, we left the village and walked along a lane for half a mile along the road that eventually leads to Aberfeldy.

Believe it or not, there are deer here. We had trouble spotting them as well – they were all lying down.

We turned right onto Bunrannoch road, a long stetch of lane near the edge of the Dall Estate, which dates back to 1347. (We were told by the man in the village shop – the residents of Kinnloch Rannoch are such a friendly lot – that the estate surrounds Dall House, built in 1855 as the new seat of the Robertson Clan (Clan Donnachaidh) and gifted by Robert the Bruce for service in the Scottish Wars of Independence.)

There is little to be seen of the old Rannoch village. But we were lucky enough to chat with an elderly man who explained that there were possible plans for another archeological dig being planned. And that the mounds were the remains of a settlement: three prehistoric roundhouses, two larger early historic monumental roundhouses, and five medieval longhouses. He also said that in the 1990s, archaeological digs at Bunrannoch had discovered some bronze axes, and that, in the nineteenth century, a bronze armlet, a form of Scottish Iron Age jewellery belonging to aristocracy and a symbol of power and prestige in the first and second centuries AD, was found. Artefacts all now in collections in the National Museum of Scotland.

It just shows – always stop to chat to fellow walkers!!

The walk passes the base of Schiehallion, one mountain we weren’t tempted to climb. Though the Photographer was so impressed by the symmetry of it he took many photographs.

And back to the village. Triangle completed, a lovely easy stroll. We crossed the bridge over the Tummel River. The water was high and deep, swiftly running after all the many previous weeks’ rain.

There’s an inscription on Rannoch Bridge that reads “THIS BUILDING ERECTED A.D. 1764 AT THE SOLE EXPENSE OF HIS MAJESTY OUT OF THE ANNEXED ESTATES”. It’s obviously propaganda intended to show the personal generosity of George 111 after the 1745 Jacobite Rising when the British government confiscated the estates of Highland leaders who supported the rebellion. Though the profits gained were used to fund trade and agricultural developments in Scotland and, I guess, went someway, maybe, to improve stewardship of the estates forfeited.

At the village square we stopped at the Buchanan monument, Dedicated to Dugald Buchanan (1716–1768), a famous Gaelic poet known for religious poetry, such as Judgement Day. He was crucial in translating the New Testament into Scottish Gaelic and operated a school in the area.

Previously, this was also the site of gallows.

And then took the path alongside the Tummel river, past the weir. Kinloch Rannoch Weir is a low-level dam located at the eastern end of Loch Rannoch, and controls the outflow of water into the River Tummel towards Dunalastair Reservoir. As part of the wider Tummel Hydro-Electric Scheme, it regulates loch levels for environmental and power generation purposes. It is a Grade B listed structure and is believed to date back to the 18th century.

A short walk, but one that gave us a chance to discover a little of the history of Kinnloch Rannoch.

Arriving back at lodges that evening, we treated ourselves to a meal at the Loch Rannoch Highland hotel, the independently-owned hotel that’s on the same site as the club. We could have used the pool and spa there, but not having brought our swimsuits – well we forgot, it was February after all – we didn’t. However we did have some excellent food there.

My Review of Driven by Deceit (A Shade Darker Book 5) by Georgia Rose

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Crack the façade… Expose the truth…

A toxic arrival. The villagers enthralled. What will it take to show the reality of what lives among them?

Laura Brown has already had a tough year. What she doesn’t need is someone making it worse. But when her friend’s cottage is rented out, that’s exactly what happens as her life, and the village she loves, are invaded by someone from her past.

Laura has learned how to react to her abuser. With silence. With indifference. No one else sees the danger in their midst. That is until her friends are affected and the time comes for Laura to remember who she really is.

With the help of a mysterious visitor and Laura’s friend, Harry O’Connor, a plan forms, but when a lack of discretion threatens to derail it, Laura finds help comes from the most unlikely place.

Driven by Deceit is a gripping domestic suspense novel. If you like character-driven action, suspenseful storytelling and unexpected twists, then you’ll love this psychological thriller.

My Review:

I have long enjoyed Georgia Rose’s writing and have followed the A Shade Darker series from book one. So I was thrilled to receive an advance copy of her latest offering. This fifth story of the characters who live in Melton is as riveting as the first four. Gradually we have become familiar with them and in Driven by Deceit we return to one of my favourite characters, Laura, the owner of the riding stables, who we were introduced to in Georgia Rose’s first story, A Killer Strikes.

And what a return: Laura’s life is turned upside down by her nemesis, her former stepmother. And so the plot begins.

 I try not to give spoilers in my reviews so I’ll concentrate in what captivates me about this author’s work.

The characters, particularly the protagonists, are, as always so well rounded that the reader instantly becomes engrossed in their story, immediately cares what happens to them.

And no less so with the supporting characters in the book. In Driven by Deceit we see the struggles of Pip, who works for Laura at the stables, and witness the dilemma that Harry faces, also an employee of Laura’s, but really so much more. And then there’s the antagonist, Cecelia, the erstwhile stepmother. Together with the cast of villages, we are drawn in again: to cheer on, to hate, to frown over, become exasperated by, to laugh with, to weep with.

 As always the dialogue is meticulously distinctive to each villager, the idiosyncrasies and habits identify them, and the exchanges between them all is realistic.

And then there is the setting of Melton: the houses, the pub, the stables, the shop, and the countryside around. All described in such detail that they are images that can be brought instantly to mind. The author uses all five senses to reveal a brilliant sense of place.

 What else can be said, other than yet again, this is a captivating read with an engrossing plot.

One word of warning – well, not really a warning, just a bit of encouragement to any reader who is drawn to books beautifully written, with gripping plots. I would suggest they begin with the first book in the A Shade Darker series, A Killer Strikes. and work their way through to this, the fifth and last book … for now! I promise they will not be disappointed.

So, yes, I highly recommend Driven by Deceit (due to be published in 1st May 2026: https://tinyurl.com/2m5f6umk), as I have done with the four previous books.

My Review of How I Became a Sailor in Three Lessons & Other Stories: 2025 Anthology: by Isle of Arran u3a Writing Group (Isle of Arran u3a Anthology Book 2

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And a mention of their first Anthology:The Wife, the Mistress, and the Guinea Pig & Other Stories

Having been a member of the U3a for some time, I have discovered the value of being able to join in with the many groups and events. I also run a monthly creative writing group.

 So, some time ago, I was thrilled to learn that there is a U3a on Arran; an island I’ve been lucky enough to stay on and which is close to my heart because of the wonderful memories and friends I’ve made there. When I discovered in 2023 that the writers’ group had produced an anthology: The Wife, the Mistress, and the Guinea Pig & Other Stories, I read and wrote a brief review:

“This is the first anthology written by the u3a writers on the Isle of Arran, and is a wonderfully engaging read encompassing short stories and poetry, with the underlying theme of ‘lives lived’, in brilliant descriptive detail. Nostalgic, reminiscent, sometimes humorous – but always enjoyable – this is an easy read, a ‘pick up and dive in!’ collection, with the occasional photograph and charming image. Highly recommended … to any reader who wants to be entertained.”

 And now the group has written and published their second anthology, and it is equally enjoyable.

How I Became a Sailor in Three Lessons & Other Stories: 2025 Anthology: by Isle of Arran u3a Writing Group (Isle of Arran u3a Anthology Book 2

I’ll mention a few of my favourite reads in the book.

One piece of writing made me quietly envious – that of Alaster Milne’s view of life on Arran – which is that time on the isle is “ish;” there is a relaxed attitude to time. As he says: “Time on Arran is relative … it’s the Arran way of life that defines where we live.”

 And there is both humour and an astute observance on human nature from A.V Dunne, both in poetry and prose. I laughed out loud reading one piece on not being “cut out for the twenty-first century” and could empathise with her Rage Against Age.

I loved revisiting Barb’s Do Not Wash Hands in Plates and her dealings with Delhi Belly and toothache. And then there is Lockdown, a bad knee, and a walking cane – even as I sympathised I’m afraid I chuckled. I hasten to add here that it is always the way she writes, Barb has a tremendous capacity of seeing the funny side of life, whatever happens.

 I also enjoyed Helen McIntosh’s and Tom Kelly’s memoir contributions (memoirs are a favourite genre of mine), and the gentle writing of Marshal Ross.

There is an Arran in one hundred words section. Flash fiction is a brilliant writing discipline and all these pieces are fun and interesting to read.

 And the black and white illustrations from photographs and drawings, throughout the anthology, from another U3a group, the photographers, add a lovely flavour to the writing.

 Finally, there is an explanation of the University of the Third Age (U3a), and a description of the Arran U3a was formed in 2019. I was fascinated to learn that there are over a thousand chapters of people who, having retired, are still sharing experiences and expertise.

Where We Walked Loch Rannoch #Perthshire #Scotland #walks #photographs

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After our venture onto Craig Varr we decided to take an easier walk alongside Loch Rannoch.

Loch Rannoch is glorious: set in one of the most peaceful areas we’ve ever been fortunate to visit, it’s a freshwater loch. Long and narrow it was carved out by glaciers during the last Ice Age. At a circumferance of twenty-two miles or thereabouts I balked – just a little – at the thought of walking all the way around.

‘We could go halfway,’ the Photographer suggests. I’m not daft; halfway means turning round and we’d still be treking twenty-two miles. And, as the loch is a mile wide, and it’s February, swimming across the water back to the lodge we’re staying at is definitely out of the question.

And I wasn’t going to trust the abandoned boat we discovered. I wasn’t surprised its name was Mr Moody!!

So, in the end, it was a short, and very pleasant stroll.

Later that evening we settled down on the balcony of the lodge, with a glass of wine, to watch the sunset over the loch.

There are many legends and stories of Loch Rannnoch and the surrounding areas.

We particulary enjoyed the following::

The story of the sword that lies in the depths of Loch a’Chlaidheimh (The Loch of the Sword) in Rannoch.

There were two clans that resided on Rannoch Moor: the Camerons, and the Rannochs. Frequently, these clans would clash over the ownership of Beinn a’bhric, a valuable grazing ground. Year in, and year out, the two clans would come to loggerheads over who owned the land and whose livestock had the right to graze there. Year in, and year out, no solution was reached, and the issue only increased the rift between the two factions with each passing season.
Eventually, the two parties decided that enough was enough, and it was time to, at last, put an end to the conflict. So it was that Ewen Cameron of Lochiel and the Earl of Atholl decided to meet and they would not part until the boundaries of their lands were decided once and for all. In order to avoid potential violence, the meeting was to be arranged under specific conditions: each man would venture alone, with only one piper for company.
So Cameron set off, piper at his back playing a merry tune, setting a positive mood for what he hoped would be a productive meeting. As he travelled through Rannoch Moor, Cameron thought deeply about the confrontation at hand, concocting an iron-clad argument that might win him the grazing grounds. So deep in thought he was, that he hadn’t noticed striding straight onto the land of an infamous wise woman who lived upon the moor, known as The Blue-Eyed One.
‘You are going to meet the Earl of Atholl without any men?’ she asked, askance.
‘Aye, lady, I am,’ said Cameron. ‘Those were the terms of our agreement.’
The Blue-Eyed One shook her head ‘Do not meet the Earl alone, man. Take sixty five of your best men, and hide them among the heather, ready to be called, should you need them.’
Cameron was swayed by the old woman’s words, as she was known for her wisdom and sight. So, Cameron did as she had suggested, and called his sixty five best men to his side, and ordered them to conceal themselves in the heather, and to be ready should the Earl of Atholl look to turn violent. When the sun reached its zenith, the two proud leaders approached each other on the seemingly empty moor.
The discussions opened with the easy exchange of pleasantries, and progressed swiftly to the matter at hand. Where at first it appeared the pair would remain cordial, the exchange heated as the boundary was debated, working up to an inferno, until the men were shouting and drawing their swords upon the other. It was then, that the Earl of Atholl whistled, and from the moor behind him sprung fifty soldiers, armed and ready to defend their master.
‘These are the Atholl sheep coming to eat the Lochaber grass!’ the Earl of Atholl cried.
And so, Cameron, grateful for the words of the Blue-Eyed One, whistled, and his own men sprung from the heather. ‘Here are the Lochaber hounds going to eat the flesh of the Atholl sheep!’ he responded.
The Earl of Atholl sized up Cameron’s forces, but he could only admit that Cameron’s hounds outnumbered his sheep, and reluctantly, he sheaved his sword and called his men down. He bent his head, renounced the contested lands, and, as a signifier of the deal struck and the peace that would come from it, he hurled his blade into the loch.
There, the sword remained. That was until 1812 during a long, dry summer, when a herd-boy was working that same old disputed land. The loch had drained with the drought, unveiling the sword cradled in its peaty belly. For a time, the sword was removed and ogled by the locals, until a blue eyed woman who lived nearby told them a tale of a conflict solved by the throwing of a sword, and so it was decided the sword should be returned to the Loch of the Sword.
Seton Gordon described the moment the sword was thrown once more into the depths: ‘For an instant as it sped, its trusty blade turned to glowing bronze in the sunlight, then, like Excalibur, it sank forever from sight!’

©A.D. Cunningham – Adapted from Tales of Rannoch: Publisher: ‎ A.D.Cunningham and Perth & Kinross District Libraries

Where We Walked Craig Varr Kinloch Rannoch Loch Rannoch @Scotland #walks #photography #mountains #lochs

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Craig Varr is a truncated spur; a ridge cut off by the glaciers of the last ice age around ten thousand years ago. The result of the ice erosion is a cliff close to Kinloch Rannoch and a ridge that leads northeast to Beinn a’ Chuallaich (Mountain of the Herding”) .

Craig Varr – the first walk that the Photographer had identified when we knew we were going to Kinloch Rannoch. We perhaps should have taken notice of the warning: ‘Very steep initial ascent on a wide path; then pathless and boggy for a section before a final rough ascent’,

Especially when, on the day we arrived, it snowed!

But the Photographer was keen – very keen – to take some photographs, particularly of the mountain to the south, the triangular profile of Schiehallion. He was convinced that if we could climb only a short way up to Craig Varr, he would get a decent phtograph. As you can see, he did!

We often forget how old we are. And it was with this oblivious attitude that we set off in hiking boots and with poles.

We left mid morning: the snow had disappeared from the roads, the sun shone, the air was quite warm, and from the path overlooking the loch it felt like a lovely Spring day, despite it only being February.

Against the clear sky the loch was impressive through the trees.

The Photographer stopped often to take photos.

The track, though rough, was easy at first. We resolved to walk as far as it proved so.

But soon we encountered more snow and ice

Common sense kicked in – we turned back. The climb would be for another day, preferably a long summer’s day. Or at least a day when there wasn’t any snow.

Back at the lodge we agreed that tomorrow’s walk would be on lower ground – probably around the loch.

N.B. For interest:

Schiehallion: the mountain that weighed the Earth

This superb quartzite mountain was chosen in 1774 as the site of a famous experiment to weigh the Earth; today it is an unrivalled viewpoint.
Six to seven hundred million years ago the area that now forms the Grampian Highlands was a shallow sea. Layer upon layer of sediment was formed from mud eroded from the land, white quartz sands, and limy deposits. As these layers were buried and compressed, they became mudstone, sandstone and limestone. At that time Scotland was at the edge of a continent which included North America, separated by the deep Iapetus Ocean from the rest of Europe. Plate tectonic movements closed this ocean 470 to 430 million years ago, subjecting the buried rocks to great heat and pressure. Mudstone became schist and slate; sandstone became very hard, creamy-white quartzite; all were folded and fractured in complex patterns. At the end of these earth movements the rocks were uplifted to form the Caledonian Mountains.
Perhaps one of the most amazing things about Schiehallion is that this folding and fracturing of the rock layers is so pronounced in the area around the mountain that the mountain itself is almost ‘upside-down’! In other words, the older rock layers can be found at the top of the mountain and the younger layers at the bottom.
Several different rock types can be seen on the main path up Schiehallion,. You may come across a limestone pavement with water-worn fissures and potholes. Locally, these limey soils support unusual plants. The same rock can be seen in quarries and a restored 19th century lime kiln at Tomphubil. . Most of the ridge is grey to white quartzite, with current bedding in a few places and an occasional band of pinkish brown microdiorite. In the Tempar Burn to the northwest is the famous Schiehallion Boulder bed, an ancient glacial tillite.
During the Ice Ages of the last two million years, glaciers flowed east from Rannoch Moor, carving the hard quartzites of Schiehallion into a streamlined ridge and digging deep valleys on either side. The ice has carried blocks of granite and schist, and dropped them all the way along the east ridge, up to a height of about 980m. From there to the summit the path goes over bedrock with only local quartzite boulders.
The experiment of 1774 to weigh the Earth involved measuring the deflection of a plumb line resulting from the gravitational pull of a nearby mountain. Schiehallion was considered the ideal mountain, due to its isolation and almost symmetrical shape. The tiny deflection of a plumb-line from the vertical must be measured relative to the fixed background of the stars, which requires extremely careful measurements on either side of the mountain. The mass of the mountain can be worked out from its volume and the density of its rocks. These values can be used to find the gravitational pull of the Earth, and thus its mass.
Text contributed by Carol Pudsey for https://www.scottishgeologytrust.org/

Where We Walked – Marloes Sands #BoxingDay #Pembrokeshire #Wales #Walks #Photographs #memories

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The last time we were here was last summer, on a warm and sunny day. After parking the car we’d walked down the winding track to the beach. The tide was well out and we’d strolled along the edge of the lapping gentle waves on the long stretch of sand.

This time: Boxing Day 2025, so bitterly cold that initially it took away our breath. But the sun was shining and the sky was a gloriously clear blue. It was good to be outside after days of rain. We sauntered down the track to the grassy path that led to the beach

The tide was in. In the distance we could see Skomer Island which we’d visited inJuly. An adventure I’d written about here and here.

We turned away from the beach and, after only slight hesitation, we crossed a small footbridge over a stream and followed a path to the top of the cliff that we’d not walked on before.

It was a little hair-raising to be honest. But the views were wonderful. After half an hour along an ever rising, and narrowing path we came to a halt at the top of steep and winding steps that obviously led down to the beach. Go on, or go back? We’re not very good at going back on walks, however lost we are, or in this case, however daunting the steps. So we decided – in for a penny and all that…

It took us ten minutes of walking sideways down each step and being very grateful for the walking poles we’d debated on bringing with us – (After all, it’ll only be a beach walk!” I’d said, foolishly).

I don’t know who’d built those steps but they’d obviously decided that anyone who could navigate them thus far would be fit enough to leap over the last two metres of sheer rock at the bottom to reach the beach.

Before I could decide to either slide down the rock on my backside, or roll down through the gorse bushes on either side of the path I heard a cry. ” Bravo! You are legends!” A lady appeared below. “Stay there. I’ll help you down, you legend. Grab my hand.” I was, I have to say, very grateful for the help.

Until, finally on level ground – (levelish – i looked it up, there is such a word, specially invented i guess for rocky beaches) – I looked at this lovely lady – and realised she was probably around our age.

To be clear though, she did tell us she’d arrived at this particular spot at low tide, and had walked along the wide stretch of sand from the other end of the beach – where we’d we’d originally planned to walk from. And also that the steps we’d come down were locally know as the emergency exit steps for when someone was caught out by the high tide. So that was the answer – whoever built the steps knew that anyone wanting to use them would probably be swimming to them – and not by choice; to escape being trapped by the tide.

Luckily for us the tide was on its way out. There was no way I was tackling those steps again to the top of the cliffs. We judged that, if we took our time, we could navigate around and over the rocks to get back to our originally planned starting point at the other end of the beach.

Having navigated rocks near the sea’s edge we made our way to the top of the beach near the cliffs where there was a gap between two tall, jagged rocks. A group of people came through as we were deciding on our next move. If they could do it so could we! Yes, I know … mad!! But we don’t like to be beaten.

We made it to the other side. “No problem,” said the photographer (He was standing on the sand taking this photograph with the path that leads up to the track, and on up to the car park, behind us). I ignored his confident smile; there were a few moments when I’d thought we would be needing a sea rescue.

N.B: Just as a matter of interests, Marloes Sands was the filming location for: Snow White & the Huntsman (September 2011). The Lion in Winter (1968).

And could I, should I, leave this post without a small metion of my books?

As I’m hoping the book I’m working on at the moment, and hope to publish in 2026 (Well, one can always live in hope!), I guess not. So here is the link to my Amazon page.

Thank you to all my readers; I appreciate each and every one of you.

Where We Walked – Elan Valley and the Carvings #memories #walks #photographs #Wales

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On our recent walk around Garreg Ddu Dam in the lower Elan Valley we noticed that, since we were last here, even more carvings had been created along the trail.

This area of land was originally a Victorian Douglas Fir plantation, clear-felled to reintroduce native species and increase biodiversity. The project to carve the trees lining the road was commissioned Dŵr Cymru Welsh Water and created by chainsaw sculptors Simon O’Rourke, Paul Edwards, and Matthew Crabb, who worked from ideas presented by schoolchildren from the community.

More information can be found here

It was getting late in the afternoon, the day had been gloriously sunny and warm, but now dusk was settling in and the gathering clouds in the sky were showing signs of the rain forecast for the following day.

Foel Tower: a point of interest at the start and end of our walk around Garreg-ddu: Just upstream from the submerged dam at Garreg-ddu is the Foel Tower, the starting point for the 70 mile journey of the water supply to Birmingham.


The lower section of Foel Tower has a number of openings inside at different levels where a system of valves and cylinders can be raised and lowered to draw off water from the reservoir at the right depth for the current water level.

Photographs courtesy of http://history.powys.org.uk/history/rhayader/foel.html

The above photograph was taken in 1947 showing the Foel Tower during very low water levels in the Garreg-ddu. Most of the openings in this image are normally underwater.

Foel Tower takes in water from the Claerwen Valley through a pipeline which takes water underground from the dam system. Water is also collected by Pen-y-garreg and Craig Gochhe, the two dams higher up in the Elan Valley.

Links to my books:

Amazon.co.uk: https://tinyurl.com/55r6s5vp

Amazon.com:https://tinyurl.com/53ndmrhe

https://www.honno.co.uk/fiction

My latest book, published in November 2024 is The Stranger

Review for The Stranger:
5.0 out of 5 stars Storytelling in a class of its own… stunning.

“One of the author’s many strengths is in capturing the clear and authentic voice of a confused child – Mandy’s voice, in The Stranger, still haunts me, torn between her own grief, her sense of right and wrong, and her love for her family. And once more, in her latest book she wonderfully portrays the suffering of eight-year-old twins Chloe and Charlie – already grieving the loss of their mother, their lives torn apart by their father’s marriage to her former nurse, an evil manipulator of the highest order…“

Where We Walked – Elan Valley #walks #photographs #memories #books

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After weeks of what seems to have been constant rain, we embarked on a couple of days away, determined to walk, whatever the weather. We headed for Mid Wales.

We were lucky: the clouds parted, the rain stopped, the sun came out. We took a trip to Elan Valley and walked around Garreg Ddu to Pen y Garreg.

We’ve been a few times in the past, the last being in 2023 when there was a drought declared. Below is the road bridge/ wall between Garreg Ddu and Caban Coch. On the left 2023, on the right this time, in November.

Though there were less daylight hours this time to walk we still were able to see some of the differences in the water levels in the reservoirs between our visits in 2023 to this November.

In 2023 the water was so low we could see the outlines of the houses, the roads and the church that were compulsory purchased in 1892 in order to dam the Elan and Claerwen rivers within the Elan Valley and supply water to Birmingham. This was because of the rapid growth of that industrial city, and the numerous outbreaks of disease that prompted Birmingham City Council to petition the British government to pass the Birmingham Corporation Water Act in 1892, allowing the corporation to acquire the land.

Building work began in 1883. There are six impressive dams altogether. Four follow the Elan River – Craig Goch, Pen y Garreg, Garreg Ddu, and Caban Coch and two are on the river Claerwen – the Claerwen dam and the unfinished Dol y Mynach dam.

The History of Elan Valley:

In 1893 one hundred people in Elan Valley had to move to allow the work to begin, but only landowners received compensation payments. Many buildings were demolished: three manor houses, eighteen farms, a school and a church – the latter being replaced by the corporation and renamed Nantgwyllt Church. Over the next three years a railway line was constructed to transport the workers and thousands of tonnes of building material each day.

Thousands of men and their families lived in wooden huts in the the purpose-built Elan Village, where, eventually a library, a public hall, a shop, and a canteen were built. There was also a hospital, used for injuries and as an isolation hospital. There was even street lighting which was powered by hydroelectric generators. New workers were initially expected to spend the first overnight in a lodging house to be deloused and examined for infectious diseases. Only then were they allowed across the river to the village. Single men lived in groups of eight in a terrace house shared with a man and his wife. A guard was employed to check for illegal importation of liquor and unauthorised visitors. There was a bath house which the men could use up to three times a week but the women only once. And the pub was for the men only. A school was provided for those under elevens, after this the children were expected to work.

The dams were built in two phases. The first phase, which cost six million pounds and employed fifty thousand was opened on the twenty-first of July 1904 by King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra. The building of the second phase dams was delayed due to the two World Wars and work only started in 1946. Because of engineering advancements just one large dam was built instead of the three smaller ones originally planned for. This was the Claerwen. This dam was completed in 1952 and opened by Queen Elizabeth II on the twenty-third of October.

Books

Writing is one of my biggest pleasures in life … besides walking. #books #anniversaries #writing #walking #photography #Pembrokeshire #Wales #Saints #mythsandlegends #memories

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The Stranger in my House – published November 2024

One of my greatest pleasures – besides writing – is walking. In fact walking is what I mostly post about on social media; mainly because I realised a long time ago that across many of the socials, it’s writers talking/commenting/sharing with other writers. And it’s my own fault; I have never got around to writing a newsletter to potential readers. Nevertheless I’ve made some lovely friends over the years online as well as in real life.

And, as a creative writing tutor, I’ve also made friends with many people who wanted to learn to write …. something … whether it was a novel, a short story, poetry, travel writing, or writing for children.

Alongside many of the authors I know, I share a fascination of people, and I admit I people watch. Which is probably why all my novels are character led, whatever genre I’m writing in. This no more so than in The Stranger in my House, published on the 14th of November last year (2024). The story has a main theme, coercive control; the ability of one woman to change the lives of a man and also those of his children. And not for the better.

Building characters layer by layer in a story has to have a balance: of their backgrounds, their history, the way they respond to life and to the people around them. Much as in real life. I believe there comes a time when we are all mostly what we have lived, what has happened to us, how we responded, how we were treated, how we treated others. Yes, there is always the argumant of inherited, biological traits, but I do believe that, in later life it’s what our lives have been like. However, I’m always open to that statement being challenged, and I have been involved in many discussions, on many occasions.

In all my stories, as with most writers, my characters take on a personality and life of their own. I found this especially so in The Stranger in my House. So much so that I wondered what happened to Charlie and Chloe, the two protagonists in the story, after the reader closes the book on their lives. At the beginning they are just over six years old. By the end they are adults.

I like to think that Chloe and her husband, Mark, and Charlie and his partner, Simon, become as smitten with being outside, with looking at nature, the change of the seasons, and with walking, as my husband and I are.

And there is nothing better on cold, wet, and windy winter evenings than looking back at photographs of our walks.

So here is another treasured memory:

St Justinian’s to Porth Clais:

Walking in the footsteps of St Justinian, or sometimes scrabbling to get to the top of the next path.

Literally on hands and knees. But it was so worth it

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Wonderful views overlooking Ramsey Island

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Just to prove I was there – I hate having my photo taken, but waa caught unawares by the Photographer.
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And look who we saw. (from a great distance,of course. As I’ve written in a recent post, we saw the seals and their pups last month, just before the mothers decided their offspring was able to fend for theirselves after only a month or so.

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Seal pups and their mums

So… who was St Justinian?

Justinian was born in Brittany in the 6th century. At some point in his life, he made his way to Wales, where he settled on Ramsey Island.

Justinian soon became close friends with St David, the patron saint of Wales, and visited him often in the monastery where the cathedral now stands.

He was less impressed however by the lax behaviour of some of the monks and decided to isolate himself on Ramsey island. According to legend, he took an axe and chopped up the land bridge that linked the island and the mainland. As he worked, the axe became blunter and the lumps of rock remaining became larger and larger. They are still visible today in Ramsey Sound, where the waters foam over them at high tide. Followers joined him on the island but his actions didn’t go down well with everyone though. They soon turned them against him and they beheaded him!

To the astonishment of his killers,he picked up his head and walked across the sea to the mainland, and where he set his head down, another spring of water issued forth.

A spring of water gushed up from the ground where his head first fell and this became the famous healing well known as St. Non’s Well, situated next to the ruins of St. Non’s Chapel.

Justinian was buried where the chapel now stands. Within its walls are some stone footings, which may mark his original gravesite. His body was removed to the cathedral at St Davids, probably at some time before the end of the 15th century.

During the early medieval period, two chapels were built on Ramsey. One was dedicated to St Tyfanog; the other to St Justinian. There is no trace of either building today, though their sites are known.

Where We Walked: Wiston Castle and Church #Pembrokeshire #Wales

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Following a recce for a Narberth U3a future Stroll and Photo at Llys-y- Fran, we took a diversion to Wiston castle. Even though not long enough for a walk, the castle and nearby church are historically interesting.

The castle was built by an early Flemish settler with the unusual name of Wizo (in Latin) or Gwys (Welsh). Wizo was one of the powerful Norman lords who took control of southern Wales in the decades following the Norman Conquest. The settlement was called Wiston, which was an old Flemish/Saxon word for Wizo’s enclosure. And I am reliably informed, by someone who knows far more about these things than I do, that Wiston is pronounced Wizon,

Wiston is one of the best-preserved motte-and-bailey castles in Wales, (A bailey is an enclosed courtyard within a castle, typically surrounding a central mound (the motte), a small mound or hill which was fortified in the past).

The castle is first mentioned in documents in 1147 when it was attacked by the Welsh, and then again by Hywel Sais, who was the son of The Lord Rhys who ruled this area of Wales, in1193. The castle was again attacked and destroyed in 1220 by Llywelyn ap Iorwerth (Llywelyn the Great). There is more information of the history of Wiston castle here:

There are forty-nine steps … I counted!

The Keep was a large fortified enclosure. This would originally be an early thirteenth century timber tower within a palisade. The present sixteen-sided stone shell keep was a replacement and would have risen another story with a parapet. The entrance was barred by a stout wooden door and the residential upper floor was reached by stone steps just inside the doorway.

A deep ditch surrounds the base of the mound, separating it from the bailey (the enclosed courtyard within a castle) to the south, and connecting with the moat of the outer bailey on the eastern and western sides. This would have contained essential buildings like stables, barracks, and a chapel – the fortified area where soldiers, servants, and livestock lived and where the day-to-day activities of the castle took place.

Impressive stone walls. Spot the lookout!

And, of course, who goes up … must then go down. Much easier!

The Church of St Mary Magdalene.

Wizo also founded the church nearby at the same time. Though altered by subsequent generations, the church is essentially a Norman building, entered by a very simple doorway made of large slabs of local red sandstone. An interesting church to visit at a later time, I think.

Where We Walked #NationalTrust #PembrokeshireU3a #Pembrokeshirecoast #sealspotting #walks #photography

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Over the last few weeks we have walked along the Pembrokeshire coast with the Pembrokeshire U3a and the National Trust …

And joined in with a couple of days seal spotting … from the clifftops, so at a distance, of course.

And watching the mothers with their pups was fascinating

Around the coast of West Wales, grey seals can be seen throughout the year. In the summer, around sunset, the seals begin to return to the beach hauling out their daily catch of fish. Mostly, at this time, they bob about in the water, waiting to come ashore to rest. Seals spend a lot of time at sea but come ashore to breed from August until early November, when parents and their pups can be spotted on beaches around Pembrokeshire.

On land they are cumbersome and slow, compared with their agility in the ocean.

Which gave The Photographer plenty of time to get his pictures!

Many thanks Pembrokeshire U3a and the National Trust for two brilliant days .

Fun Facts (courtesy of https://tinyurl.com/5n8ukdyz )

Fossil records indicate that the ancestors of modern seals first entered the ocean on the west coast, about 28–30 million years ago.

Seals see very well under water—better than they do in bright light above water. Their eyes are adapted with round lenses (like fish) and a large iris that fully opens underwater. On land the iris closes the pupil to a small pin point that lets the seal see clearly through the round lens. A seal’s eye is also adapted for low-light vision with a lining (similar to a cat’s eye) that reflects and amplifies the weak light at depth in the ocean.

A seal’s body stores enough fat in the blubber layer to allow the animal to go for extended periods of time without eating. In addition, most seals are opportunistic feeders and will consume a variety of fish, shellfish, and crustaceans. Seals do not eat on land.

Like all marine mammals, seals get all the water they need from their food. Their bodies are very efficient at removing and recycling water from their food. They avoid drinking sea water; if a seal drinks too much sea water it can become seriously sick. Arctic seals, which spend time on ice, may sometimes eat fresh water ice and snow.

NB: Seals are protected in the UK under various acts, including the Conservation of Seals Act 1970, which prohibits killing, injuring, or taking them except under specific circumstances. Both native species, the grey seal and common seal, are protected, along with any other seal species found in UK waters.