Postcard from a Seaside Garden in July

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End of July and it’s the magnificent ‘Buck Moon’ spilling its eerie golden glow over the sea. It’s like a river of gold flowing towards you to remind us of our connection to former times when such events were celebrated. It marks the time for renewal when the male deer grow back their velvety antlers ready for the new season’s rut.

It’s been so hot and dry. No decent ‘wet’ rain for a couple of months and we’ve been declared a drought area. The garden is really trying but there are signs of an early autumn everywhere. But there are moments when we’re Glad All Over as the gladdies have been a terrific show.

The aggies are giving it their best shot before the big die back and the honeysuckles have spread their tentacles along the fence to takeover and perfume the lower garden. It is one of life’s simple pleasures to sit here in the evening and take in the fragrance.

And of the gull chicks that fell off the roof? All three went down and found the pond for their drinks. They survived on the ground for long enough to fledge and today they’re flying around as speckled brown newbies. Just got to clear up their mess now.

Work on the new book continues slowly as I’m trapped in the forever edit cycle which I rather enjoy. And I’ve been working on a script for a play of Louisa’s Lament. Following advice, I’ve worked out how to condense the story into a 90-minute piece for three actors. It’s like getting in the groove of the clever guys who form the National Theatre of Brent where two actors take all the parts in big fat books to tell the story in 60 minutes. It’s the ultimate ‘Executive Summary’. What a much-needed skill!

Come back next month for more news of the book and my seaside garden as it fades into autumn all too quickly.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in June

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The summer solstice has now passed and ‘Flaming June’ has been flaming. The recent heatwave has been intense and following May’s abnormal heat, the combined effect has been very damaging to many trees, shrubs and plants. They will have to be cleared out in the autumn, but for now, the cooling onshore breezes make life ambling on the beach at low tide bearable.

We have had great drama with a seagull family which has taken up residence on our roof. There are three chicks wittily named as Hubble Bubble and Trouble. The latter, being too bold for its own good, fell off the roof while showing off to its siblings. Much screeching and flapping from the parents ensued while Hubble and Bubble called plaintively for the missing’s return. It looked a goner. But we found it the next day sitting by the downpipe – smart move as he could have a drink. Trouble was carefully lifted back onto the roof by my kind neighbour to join the family, so all is well. It’s the real fledging drama next.

Despite the heat, the garden has much vibrant colour and Chelsea Blue has got to be this month’s look. Magnificent artichoke flower, and the blue hydrangeas and agapanthuses, which are common in these parts, are so good.

There are a few dazzlers, particularly the fiery orange cannas, the bright yellow mallows, and the combined hues of both in a nasturtium that popped out from under. And of course, the pinks still a feature in the other hydrangeas, rosa rugosa and carpet rose.

Work on the new book Project Angie continues around entering competitions for Louisa’s Lament.

This month I’ve been researching the difference between psychopathic, machiavellian and narcissistic traits as all three feature in my story of clinical fraudsters. The psychological research shows they overlap but normally one trait leads. This has been my experience in working life amongst those with professional backgrounds. Currently an estimated 1% of the UK population has psychopathic traits. Given 25% of these are in prison, that leaves a lot of dysfunctional people who are working in organisations.

The summer promises to be a long hot one especially as I recall those recidivists who I’m writing about.

Come back next month for more news of organisational delinquents and my seaside garden in all its summer glory.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in May

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The summer has started earlier than usual with an intense heatwave. Even with the refreshing onshore breezes, it’s been very hot, and certainly too hot to work. So, the hammock has been up for a few lazy days while the garden has gone crazy.

A variety of wild self-seeded poppies have sprung up everywhere. They don’t last long but they give exciting pops of colour ranging from orangey and bright reds to a more subdued dusty pink. You just take them as they come. Enchanting.

And the roses are magnificent – must be all that rain in the winter months followed by the strong sun in recent weeks. Some are more fragrant than others, particularly the prolific rosa ragusa, which loves the local climate, while others concentrate on being very handsome. Just look at the showy apricot shrub rose and the deep carmine climber reaching up to garden lodge where I write.

Marketing Louisa’s Lament continues. I was privileged to be asked by Guy’s & St Thomas’s Hospitals Trust to speak about the pioneering women in the story at a recent award ceremony for nurses and midwives. Judging by the comments and book orders, I think the talk seems to have stimulated some interest in the goings on at Guy’s in 1880. And my book got a mention in the recently published Guy’s Hospital: 300 Years, pages 518-520. We will put some pics on the website soon.

And the new book? It’s been a bit slow – too much hammock time. But I’ve made a start on another round of edits and finalised some research into how scientific fraud is conducted. Depressingly, it’s rather more common than you might have thought.

Waiting in the wings for June’s blog are the barby pink carpet roses and cannas so see you next month for a view of them as the festival of glorious colour and fragrance continues. And, all too soon, it’s the summer solstice in just three weeks.

And finally…

I have a favour to ask. I’ve been finding my way onto a few new corners of the internet so I can share more about Louisa’s Lament and my upcoming book, and I’d love it if you’d come and find me there.

I’ll also be sharing stories about women in history who’ve been subdued by circumstances, and those who’ve risen despite adversity and, of course, there’ll be more tidbits on my garden and scribblings. Here are the links to my new socials…

I’d love to see you there

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in April

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In this crazy world, it is enough to just appreciate a lovely place such as our peaceful beach on an afternoon’s walk or admire the muddle of pink clematis montana as it tumbles over the fence to herald spring’s arrival.

The artichokes have already burst into life with its hearts evident and the wild onion garlic that grows prolifically along the lane is now in full bloom.

Spring is also a time to remember my paternal great grandfather, Thomas Maxwell, who died on the Somme battlefields in the Spring Offensive 1918. He was part of the Royal Scots Lothian Regiment 17th Battalion, and he is remembered at Pozieres Memorial near the charming town of Arras which I visited recently. Like so many women at that time, my great grandmother, Annie, was left to raise their son and daughter on her own.

The little girl is my granny, and she went on to become Jeannie Graham. I am often asked about my author’s name Annie Graham so now you know. The arum lilies that grow wild across the terraces are for them.

Marketing Louisa’s Lament continues with the book bloggers, a very necessary vehicle these days, and the drafting and design work for the poster exhibition of the story is now in train. And the new book? I’m reading the literature on sociopaths and whistleblowers, and research fraud. It’s a great way to put off the real work so it’s nearly time to stop and start writing again. But I’ll go for a walk around the garden and down to the beach first…

See you next month for a view of the roses as they start to open in a festival of glorious colour and fragrance.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in March

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Spring is getting going at last. Some days it’s warm enough to sit out for lunch at our lovely cliff top café, Silas Cove, where it’s just you, the food and the sea. And sometimes, a glass of wine or bottle of beer. Now, just when you need a big fat seagull from one of the usual marauding flocks to complete the picture, none are around.

Talking of marauders, looking down onto the beach below, the low tide dramatically reveals why this was a wreckers’ beach in former times. You can almost hear them calling the boats in peril out in the bay on a stormy night to come in for shelter, only for their hulls to be ripped open on these treacherous rocks. The wreckers, now long gone, were smart enough to evade the Excise Officers, and they knew where the gaps in the rock formations were so they could easily loot the ‘lost’ cargo.

And our old harbour wall, which was damaged in the winter storms, has been repaired in double quick time. Our local council has done well to make it safe to walk along once again. The naughty boys will soon be here tombstoning off the end…

The look of Spring is everywhere. That distinct early season vivid lime green coupled with waves of soft blue and pops of pinky red form the ‘look’.  The tough old rosemary fountains and privet balls are out in force giving structure to the front terraces, and the canna pots are showing much promise with their abundant new shoots.

Over in the west garden, the bank of primroses signals that things are waking up and down in the secret garden, there is much promise for this year’s show of agapanthuses. They, like the statuesque cala lilies, can stand the salt blasting they get each winter.

Work on my new book about medical politics and fraud has stalled as we’ve been working on getting Louisa’s Lament into Guy’s Hospital’s 300th Anniversary celebrations in May. We’ve been offered a poster exhibition of the story focussing on the Great Nursing Dispute in 1880. It will be a series of posters setting out the course of events with comments on the underlying political and social issues that threaded through the story. And Guy’s Hospital Gazette will feature some articles to recognise our pioneering women- Matron Burt and her acolytes, Miss Ingle, Miss Lonsdale and Miss Jones, at last.

Enjoy the Spring Burst and Happy Easter to you all.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in February

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One Fine Day, that’s all we’ve had this month in what has been a very stormy and soggy end to the winter. The sea has been especially energised even on a calm day so it’s been too dangerous to enter, especially given the many jagged rocks that lie just below the surface. And storm clouds seem to bubble up so quickly just to remind you of the power of nature and who is in charge.

Everyone is so looking forward to the Spring which officially starts tomorrow. As a portent, we have had daffodils since last November, but they are still going despite the drenching weather. Lots of varieties giving pops of butter yellow everywhere.

Even this discarded lily managed to survive being mushed so it’s going back in the garden.

Work on my new book about medical politics and fraud has been progressing in fits and starts because we’ve been working on getting Louisa’s Lament into the Library System. We’ve been listed so far in the Bury, Bromley, Cambridge, Coventry, Cwmbran, Glossop, Harrow, Merton and Surrey libraries. Every loan generates a Public Lending Right fee and it all mounts up for the charitable contributions pot. We’re going to try to get into the American System next.

And that short article by a VIP is now published in Guy’s Hospital Gazette to mark its 300th anniversary. Jump into patoakleypublishing.london to read it. As a result, some much needed light has been shone on our pioneering women – Miss Burt and her acolytes, Miss Ingle, Miss Lonsdale and Miss Jones. Heroes at last.

Enjoy the alignment of the planets in the night sky tonight and have a happy St. David’s Day tomorrow. Next month, more on the new book and its band of sociopaths wreaking havoc in other people’s lives.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in January

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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

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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.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in November

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Almost the end of the year and a time for reflection as the winter’s storm-laden winds approach. On the odd day, spills of thin sunlight illuminate the vacant beaches, too chilly to linger for long. The gaudy coloured canoes that scream summer and the little rowboats and lobster pots are now neatly stowed until warmer days return. And it’s sepulchral quiet – nothing is stirring. Just the rolling rhythmical sea lapping on the shore.

This is a good time to be holed up in my writer’s lodge reworking draft chapters to create layers in the story of a whistleblower caught up in the byzantine maze of medical politics. To most of my former colleagues, this is about the everyday push and shove of doing clinical business, but to others, not schooled in how such things work, it is a revelation. It still chills me as I recall some of the individuals whose behaviours were so dire, and cruel. The view and sounds of the sea give great comfort in such moments.

Over in the veggie terraces, the last of the leeks have been pulled and for me, they too easily form a distraction when awful memories intrude. My displacement activity of choice is making soups and pickles using my fabulous 10 litre Italian pot. Much leek and potato soup will be the product of this week’s anxiousness. What a balm for the sore mind of a fretting writer.

So it’s farewell to the year with the dogwood’s show of its seasonal red stems. And, as a portent of things to come, an early hello to next year’s daffodils and poppies. I’m not sure why they have bloomed about three months early, but they are a welcome sight in the coming stygian gloom of winter.

An intense period of writing follows… the sociopaths have been let loose, and they are running around my chapters out of control causing mayhem everywhere they go. Just got to reign them in and weave their stories into my story.

By the time I write again, the winter solstice and Christmas will have been and gone. Enjoy the festivities and peace that will descend. And come back next time for more news as the story of everyday sociopaths unravelling before your eyes takes shape.

Postcard from a Seaside Garden in October

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Storm season has arrived with Amy and Benjy blasting in off the ocean and dumping a ton of rain on my very parched seaside garden. Relaxing in the sofa chill zone is the order of the day now. And on productive days, I get some writing and research done for my new book. It’s about the God Complex and how it works when whistleblowers blow.

We still get the occasional bright day but it’s increasingly cold as you stroll along the beach trying to catch the last of the thin afternoon sunshine. Storms rise quickly here so watching the state of the sea is important so you’re not caught out. Sadly, the combination of this year’s prolonged drought and fierce onshore winds have taken their toll with landslips appearing everywhere. Those pesky pampas grass, which grow wild in these parts, at least try to stabilise the banks for a bit longer.

The last of the beets and radishes have been harvested and eaten, and the veggie terraces have now been left to their winter’s rest. But the carpet rose has burst into another prolific late showstopper of barbie pink flowers. It stands in great contrast to the muted autumnal colours of the fading hydrangeas.

So it’s farewell to a lovely hot summer and welcome to the autumnal football season, and Pilgrim Pete, the local team’s mascot. A total fun distraction from the serious business of writing.

An intense period of work follows to show how the ‘firm’ plotted the fate of those its members didn’t like and what happened to them all as a result. Can there be justice for the protagonists? I think it’s going to be a page-turner, but let’s wait for the reading panel’s verdict.

Come back next time for more news as the story of the plots unfolds.