Diary of a Provincial Jack Russell

Diarist, Author and mischief-maker,
Judy Good-Dog

December 28^th :  I am strutting down my Old Retainer's drive keeping a leery eye open for the appearance of that smelly hound next door when Rosie and her owner pass by.  Untruthfully, I wag my tail in greeting at her, but it is only the doggy treat that I know her owner has in her pocket that interests me.  However, I can only get to wag number three before I am dragged by my Old Retainer (OR) down the street for my walk at a pace that was unbecoming and certainly far in excess of any speed that my OR can reasonably expect to maintain without the severe possibility of apoplexy on his part.

(Query : will Chippie, the hound next door, be available for his putting in his place this afternoon I wonder?)

(Note to Self : investigate all that stuff in OR's spare room because I suspect that he and his Trainee are up to something and my time here may be cut short.)

December 29^th :  I was right!  After my walk yesterday I was bundled into my basket, put in the travel cage and thence into the car.  It was a long journey and I had to amuse myself with the shape of the passing clouds, the appalling colour scheme of a car we passed and the prospect of new adventures.

(Memo : must instruct OR on the need to consider every blade of grass during the course of an adventure.)

We are now here at the holiday cottage.  Good!  At least I’ll have another opportunity to sort out that Black Labrador across the road.  The Trainee Retainer keeps on complaining that the place is cold.  I could not agree more and I decide to settle into my basket with my duvet.

December 30^th :  Leisurely morning reading the Daily Telegraph.  A stroll down to the sea front and back, followed by a late morning snooze which is rudely interrupted by the arrival of Lord and Lady H.  Nevertheless, I make them especially welcome, but get nothing for my pains. 

Port Mulgrave

(Note to self : must remind OR to instruct his visitors to have doggy treats with them at all times.)
Lord and Lady H stay for lunch.  Then more travelling - but to the shops this time.  Of course I am left unceremoniously in the car park.  What a relief that Rosie, Chippie, Meg, Soda, Gem, Anna and that flea-ridden piece of mange at the bottom of the street at home are not able to witness my abandonment.  However, I rise above my deplorable situation by feigning guard duty.  My dignity is saved, eventually, by the return of my OR and we are off again, travelling.  Back at the cottage I stretch out on the best rug in the best room and watch my OR and his Trainee dashing in and out.  I also find, to my surprise and without any prior consultation, that Lord and Lady H are staying for the duration - so that's two more waifs to guard for goodness knows how long. 

(Memo : have overheard a conversation between Lord H and OR about putting a Kitty together.  Must find the cat. Even more intriguing, must determine how they managed to break the animal in the first place!)

Evening spent by the fire as the four waifs went out, presumably to eat as there was no kitchen activity and therefore no tasty titbits in my dog-bowl.  I do wish the OR would keep me informed about such changes in routine - how can I possibly be expected to maintain my diet and figure otherwise.

 December 31^st :  Stroll into town today.  Regrettably there were no other canines that needed to be informed of my status.  Equally regrettable, there were no other canines to impress with my sleek coat, lithe figure, beautifully shaped patches and matching collar!  But there was more conversation about this dratted Kitty. 

(Further note to self : undertake a more thorough search of the property and devise a trap for the cat.)

A lot of frenzied activity in the kitchen this afternoon with Lady H and the Trainee rushing

Oneself, beating a hasty retreat

about.  Also a lot of talk about a large porker.  First a cat to find and now a pig!  I decide that discretion is the better part of valour and retreat to the fireside.

The waifs are busy eating in the dining room so I have been able to conduct a thorough and detailed search of the cottage.  Have not been able to find the cat.  Also, have noticed that there are no feeding bowls for the cat and have come to the conclusion that the cat must have been put back together again and shown the door.  Still not able to locate the pig.  Have a theory that I should be able to find it soon as it will need to use the lavatory - so am mounting a constant guard outside the bathroom door.  It really is a dog's life!

Crooked Cat Sale

Want to find a bargain???

Then visit the great Crooked Cat Sale, loads of titles - including Messandrierre and Merle - for 99p/c or international equivalent

There are romances, mysteries, crime, thrillers and lots, lots more. Treat yourself whilst you have the opportunity! 

Merry Christmas

It's the time of year when I take break for Christmas.  My tree is all done, presents wrapped and all that's left to do is to cook on Christmas Day!  Can't wait!

I will back in January 2018 with lots of new posts about France, introducing new writers to you and lots and lots of other stuff.  So, keep watching this space to find out what's coming up in the New Year

I would also like to say Thank You.  Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my books and, if you have written a review as well, thank you again.  We writers need reviews - good or bad - we need them.  If you're a regular reader of this blog - thank you for being there.  If you only visit once in a while, thank you for visiting and I hope you will return in the New Year.  If this is your very first visit to this blog, thank you for dropping by and please stop by again.

Lastly, I just want to wish everyone a very happy Christmas and if Christmas is not your thing, then I wish you happiness.

Please welcome, friend and author...

... Alice Castle to my blog today. Hi Alice, thanks for being here and I believe you have a new book to tell me about.  So over to you...

Thanks so much to Angela for hosting me today.  It’s lovely to be able to talk about my second novel, The Girl in the Gallery.  Like my first cozy crime whodunit, Death in Dulwich, the story owes a lot to its setting.  I’ve always loved Dulwich Picture Gallery and, when I realised it was celebrating 200 years as a public gallery this year, I was determined to use this extraordinary building as a backdrop to the latest crime that my amateur sleuth, Beth Haldane, sets about solving.  I started the book this April and have just managed to get it out before the year is over – it is being published on 19th December by Crooked Cat.

about the book... It’s a perfect summer’s morning in the plush south London suburb, and thirty-something Beth Haldane has sneaked off to visit one of her favourite places, the world-famous Picture Gallery.  She’s enjoying a few moments’ respite from juggling her job at prestigious private school Wyatt’s and her role as single mum to little boy Ben, when she stumbles across a shocking new exhibit on display.  Before she knows it, she’s in the thick of a fresh, and deeply chilling, investigation.  Who is The Girl in the Gallery?  Join Beth in adventure #2 of the London Murder Mystery series as she tries to discover the truth about a secret eating away at the very heart of Dulwich.

Dulwich Gallery

Those who know Dulwich Picture Gallery will either love or hate its cool, neo-Classical façade and strange internal layout.  The building was designed by architect Sir John Soane and he was quite clear that it was his favourite creation.  It broke a lot of rules at the time and its use of light from above, provided by enormous glass lanterns set into the roof, was considered revolutionary.  One of the effects of this technique, as well as providing plenty of natural light flooding the gallery, was to give a huge quantity of wall space to hang paintings, as there are no windows to break up the long gallery vistas.  It is this which gives the gallery a rather odd, blank look from the outside, which Soane dealt with by creating false arches in the brickwork.  Beth imagines these are looking at her quizzically as she approaches the Gallery on page 1, when she is just about to make a horrible discovery in the mausoleum which lies at the heart of the building.

As you can imagine, the mausoleum gets quite a lot of attention in my mystery, so I won’t say any more about it here, except to say that you definitely won’t find anything like it in any other art gallery.

Cards carrying the portrait of Mrs Moody
available from the gallery

I have as much difficulty as Beth in deciding which of the art treasures displayed at the Picture Gallery is my favourite but, like her, I have a particular soft spot for the portrait of Mrs Elizabeth Moody by Gainsborough.  As you’ll read in the book, there is a very sad tale behind this glorious picture.  Another canvas with a moving backstory is the portrait of Venetia, Lady Digby.  Though she looks as though she is peacefully asleep, the rose shedding its petals on the corner of her coverlet is the clue – Lady Digby was in fact painted by Van Dyck the day after her death.  Her widower, Sir Kenelm Digby, was inconsolable and took the canvas with him wherever he went.  It was a tragic ending to a great love affair; the couple had married in secret, against the wishes of his family, as she had a rackety past and he was a straight-laced poet and scientist. 

Dulwich Picture Gallery is full of stories.  I’m very proud to have added one of my own to the list.  If you’d like to read The Girl in the Gallery, you can find it on Amazon, or at Village Books, Dulwich Books, Herne Hill Books or Clapham Books in south London.  It’s the sequel to Death in Dulwich, but both books can be read as stand alone stories.  My next book in the series is Calamity in Catford, due to be published by Crooked Cat in 2018, with Peril in Peckham to follow shortly. 

Thanks again to Angela for hosting me and if you’d like to find out more about Beth or my series, do visit me at www.alicecastleauthor.com. I’m also on Facebook and on Twitter at @DDsDiary.

I'm reviewing Christmas at the Lucky Parrot Garden Centre...

I've always been a bit sniffy about books written through collaboration as I've always thought that I would be able to see the 'joins'.  Whilst this may be true of some of the other books I've read, it most certainly is not the case for this story.  Romantic comedy is not exactly my bag either.  So why did I read this book and review it?  Good question!  It was suggested to me that I might enjoy this story just because it was completely outside my usual reading matter - and I most certainly did.

Set in Whitby in the run up to Christmas, with a heroine who is a no-nonsense Yorkshire lass (Hannah) and a hero to die for (Daniel) - I was hooked from page one.  Whitby is a lovely seaside town and not so very far that I can not visit every so often.  Add to that the timing of Christmas along with snow and you have a perfect location for a warming and heartfelt story.

The writing style is a bit quirky - but I can do quirky - and I found it a refreshing change.  That quirkiness fits really well with the nature of the story, the characters and the setting.

The romance between Hannah, (a welly-wearing down-to-earth land-scape gardener who got my vote from the outset) and movie-man Daniel, unfolds very cleverly as the two of them deal with their own differences, insecurities and pressures from their work.  Add to this the dynamics between the supporting characters at the Garden Centre where Hannah works, her neighbours and the people from Daniel's past and you have a really great read.  I found the characters to be really well drawn and believable and the story drew me in relentlessly.  Once I'd started reading, I could not put this book down.

Despite my initial reservations about this story, I thoroughly enjoyed it and have no hesitation in recommending it as an excellent book.  I also think it will make a perfect Christmas present for the reader on your present list!

Come stroll with me...

Fortress Montbazon

… through Montbazon for my last post from this little town on the Indre.  Regrettably my time here has come to an end but I still have some interesting things about the place to share.

Camped beside the river Indre means that it’s a short walk from the site to the heart of the town.  It is also impossible to miss the remains of the fortress that sits on the high ground overlooking the plain.  The fortress was built by Foulque Nerra – The Black Falcon – who in reality was Fulk III and son of Geoffrey I, Count of Anjou. He was born around 970 and died in 1040 in Metz, eastern France.  His life’s work was to defend, maintain and extend his territories in and around the Loire.  As a result, he is best remembered as one the great builders of the medieval age with the fortress at Montbazon being only one of the many similar structures, abbey’s and other buildings that he had constructed around Tours during his lifetime.  It is possible to visit the castle and see demonstrations of medieval baking, tile making and calligraphy.  You can even practice your archery and your sword fighting if you wish.  I decided to give the latter two a miss.

Old Mill, Montbazon

Taking the steep path down from the fortress brings you right to the last vestiges of the original city walls and the remains of one of the gates.  Here I take a right and visit the old mill which sits on a branch of the Indre.  There has been a mill here since the 14th century.  In the 16th century it became the property of the Ducs de Montbazon who rented out its use to local milling families who formed a consortium and could then control the price of flour - and their own income, of course! - within the area.  A plaque on the wall denotes that in November 1770 a devastating flood engulfed the town and had I been standing in that spot then, the water would have reached a good two feet above my head!  In 1798, following bankruptcy, the mill was put under administration until it was sold to a merchant in Tours as a result of an act of the revolutionary government.  Numerous changes and improvements later, the building is now privately owned, but is still worth the short walk to see it.

As we stroll along Rue de Moulin, take in the facades of the ancient houses and, don’t miss the

detail on the eaves of the house at number 37.  And just here on the right is the ruelle des Anges.  And there’s a little picture for those who are unsure of the translation!  As I look down the narrow covered walkway I'm reminded of a conversation I had at a wedding a few years ago.  An elderly gentleman, once I'd told my name, remarked that Angela was derived form the anciet greeek and that it meant 'messenger of the gods.'  I remember smiling politely and thinking to myself, if my first name means that and my second name is that of a bird, what happened to my wings?  I guess I'll never know, so I wander a little further down the street and on the right is the church of Notre-Dame de la Bonne Aide.  I stop to read the notice on the open door which gives the history of the building of the church and tells me that the original church from 1550 was replaced by the current building. neo-roman in style, between 1851 and 1862.  But I can not get further than the fourth sentence before Madame encourages me to come in.  ‘We have a special exhibition,’ she says.  ‘Patience please,’ I say and, after a further encouragement she eventually leaves me to read the rest of the historical notes.  

Vestments froming part of the exhibition, Montbazon

The outside of the building does not prepare me for the interior.  Apart from all the VIP’s, the Maire and numerous other people being lectured about the exhibits and the church, there are some of the most exquisitely embroidered vestments that I have ever seen.  All beautifully displayed in the central aisle and surrounded by walls and a ceiling that are painted with not a single scrap of bare plaster to be seen anywhere.  The interior was.  The interior of the church, painted in 10863 by Henri Grandin, is a marvel.  By the alter I come across the most important item in the exhibition.  A chasuble, stole and various other pieces embroidered by Marie, the Duchess of Montbazon and dating from 1642.

This is a town with a fascinating history, a marvellous community spirit and a zest for survival that I doubt will ever be diminished by its proximity to Tours.  And, if after your walking tour of the town you are feeling a little peckish then I can thoroughly recommend the Milles Feuilles from the pâtisserie in Place André Delaunay.  It’s just by the Hotel de Ville, you can’t miss it.

I'm reviewing The Last Dance...

... and other stories by Victoria Hislop

Whilst I write short stories myself and enjoy the discipline, I don't usually read anthologies. That being said, this my third colection of stories in almost as many weeks!   As a reader I often find that a short story is just too short and I'm at the end almost before I've started.  And, unfortunately, there are a lot of short stories out there that have no substance at all.

But that is not the case with this selection of ten tales.  All set in Greece, the stories revolve around the people and the place.  Hislop's novels - The Thread and The Island - demonstrate her understanding of the country, its history and the people.  Her stunning prose does not hinder the pace of the stories nor does it impede the readers ability to see her characters and their locations clearly as she spins her tales.  From Stavros, the priest in the first story right through to Theodoris, the groom in the final story, each of the central protagonists is clearly and carefully drawn.  Establishing a character so clearly when the word count is automatically limited is difficult, but this author has mastered that skill.

Similarly with the setting for each story.  You can feel the wind and see the darkness in the corners of the streets.  You can feel the tension between battling brothers and enjoy the openness of the airy village squares shaded in summer by the trees.  These fabulous bitter-sweet tales focus on love, separation and loss, friendship and confusion and missed chances along with choices that are not always desired.  Each is a perfect and complete little nugget of emotion and it is this quality that makes this particular collection of stories one to treasure and return to again and again.