2025: The Year in Review – part 2

Posted on January 12, 2026 by johnshortlandwriter

2026 has come in with a bit of a blast quite literally for we are experiencing a blast of cold air and snow that has swept down from the Arctic. Here, in our part of the Cotswolds, the snow and ice are more of a nuisance than anything else for there is very little snow cover and the roads have been quite treacherous. The country folk of yesteryear always said that if the snow hangs around there’s more on the way – time will tell. It’s been some years since we had deep snow blocking the lanes.

*It’s been a few years since we had snow like this*

In part 1 of the review (link here), I reflected on the first six months of the year. It had been quite a successful year for me researching my family history. I’m fortunate for I can trace them back very many centuries – at the moment I’m reading a book about them in the 1400s! I also took the opportunity to finally visit the chapel (link here) where one is buried and nothing had prepared me for the splendour of it or how strangely moving the experience was. I also met with Canadian cousins (this time, living ones!) for the first time and we all commented how strong family bonds can be. That, and a prompt from you, one of my readers, made me reflect on those other great influencers in our lives, mentors.

*The Beauchamp Chapel, named after one of my ancestors, Richard Beauchamp*

In June I had written about my first pair of mentors, Dick and Lorna French who lived on a remote farm in Exmoor National Park. Their story can be found here. The following month, I wrote about Cyril and Pamela Heber Percy who I first met in my early thirties. How different they were from Lorna and Dick but how equally valuable were the life lessons they taught me! The Heber Percy’s had both been brought up by wealthy, landed parents. Cyril, who was born in 1908, had come from a background that we now associate more with Royalty: it was a house with liveried footman and a strict regime. Pamela’s family were very different for she was brought up in Ireland where the discipline was far more relaxed. Both had a deep love for nature and a huge interest in people. They, like most mentors, had the ability to make you feel very special. It was with Cyril that I first learnt to fly fish, and it was he that gave me the ability to recognise where the fox had lain and the badger pushed through a hedgerow – more of them in this link here.

It was back to Exmoor for August (link here) to explore the three churches where according to local rhyme and legend no priest would ever go to. Was it due to them being so remote or was it due to witchcraft? Or bandits? Or lepers? Whatever the reason, they are well worth visiting today for they sit in some of the most stunning countryside that you’ll find in England, and in August the hills are cloaked in a purple haze of heather flowers. One of the three churches is world famous for it was at Oare that Lorna Doone was shot as she stood at the altar on her wedding day. As with all my blog posts, there are lots of photos to demonstrate what a beautiful area I have been lucky enough to have spent so much time in since my teens.

*Oare Church on Exmoor where Lorna Doone was shot on her wedding day*

September found me writing about the chance contact by a Cheltenham art gallery asking me for help with a series of watercolours of London street scenes they had acquired. It turned out that they had been painted by yet another ancestor of mine (they have since been sold and are now in the United States). My own artistic talent is restricted (as one kind person described it) to painting with plants – I can visualise garden design and create it but I could never offer clients an artist’s impression! In the blog I explored the various connections I have to people that are skilled artists ranging from present day to those in the past. It was a fascinating task and not one I’d ever thought much about until I received the prompt from Cheltenham. To see the London paintings as well as the others I found click on the link here.

*One of the four paintings of London that are now in the USA*

It was very much back to the Cotswolds for Halloween. We live very close to the Rollright Stones, parts of which date back six thousand years – so older than Stonehenge. It has long been a place of ritual and superstition and Rollright and its surrounding villages have an equally long association with witchcraft. In 1875, a ritual murder was committed. Poor, elderly Anne Tennent was harmless enough but accused of witchcraft with brutal consequences. In my research for the blog, I came across a hand-written eye-witness report and had email correspondence with her 4xgreat-grandaughter. What I hadn’t expected to find was that a similar murder was committed very many years later although the connection to witchcraft was not disclosed until the late 1960s, so well within my lifetime. And then there are the tales of the mysterious black, headless dog being seen… When I visited the stones in October offerings had been lain upon them. Intrigued? Click on the link here to find out more.

*The mysterious Rollright Stones, over 5000 years old and a centre for witchcraft*

It had been some time since I last wrote about gardening which is, of course, my hobby turned profession. One of the constant questions I’m asked – and often a tricky one to answer – is how to screen an unwanted view. November would be the perfect month for dealing with a problem like that so in Hide that Ugly Wall I looked at the various options. In the blogpost (link here) we looked at trellis, climbing plants, and ideas for planting in front of the wall, fence or whatever else needed screening. At the end of the post there is a list of plants of all types and sizes to help with selection.

*Screening an ugly wall – in gardening, there is a solution to every problem!*

So the year came to an end with reflection upon what had been and 2026 begins a new year of blogging. As Life in the English Cotswolds enters its seventeenth year all that is left is for me to thank you all for helping to make it such a success. When I began in 2009 it was to be a short-lived experiment in combining text with images. I never anticipated that it would be read let alone develop into this! Now, I hear from people all over the world and have even met a few of you. It has received awards and featured in national newspapers, and it led to my being involved in setting up a literary festival. It was through this that I was approached to write my book on gardening, Why Can’t My Garden Look Like That? Who would have thought it?!

*Book signing – the publishing contract came as a direct result of blogging*

With every good wish for a happy, healthy and peaceful 2026. I’m very much looking forward to seeing what adventures arise and sharing them here. If you have any thoughts on topics, ask questions or just fancy a natter I can be contacted through the Get in Touch tab at the top of the page.

2024: A Year in Review – part 2

Posted on February 7, 2025 by johnshortlandwriter

In Part 1 of my review I began by saying words to the effect of life is for living – and when you become older there’s even less time to waste! The result of following my own advice is that part 2 of the review is a couple of weeks late in being published. than I would have liked

Keeping active was also part of the theme of a couple of my blog posts last year, specifically about England’s network of public footpaths. Although we Brits just accept them as part of our historic right to walk across privately-owned land, it seems that for a great part of the world, this would not be an option. My American friends and readers in particular find it hard to comprehend that we can walk across someone else’s property at will (assuming a public footpath crosses it) without confrontation. Many of our footpaths link villages and farms and so, on occasion, you may find yourself walking through someone’s garden or farmyard. The history behind the right to walk and what you can and can’t do was discussed in November’s post which can be found by clicking the link here.

*Walking on designated footpaths across privately-owned land is a basic right in England and Wales*

A few month’s earlier in August, I wrote of a walk that I had taken across fields, through woods and down country lanes back to my home in the secret valley. It was a lovely walk with the first signs of autumn colouring the trees and hedgerows which were laden with wild fruits and berries. After the noise and bustle of harvest, the fields were quiet and I met no-one for much of the walk. I prefer it that way for it is then, walking in silence, that you are likely to come across the wild birds and animals that also share this space, To follow the route that I took and to see the beautiful creatures I encountered click here.

*When walking quietly you come across the wild creatures that live there*

I have lived in the country all my life and my father was very much the epitome of the ‘English country gent’. My mother remained a ‘townie’ all her life (she had been brought up in the West End of London) and we both teased her mercilessly about her lack of knowledge of country ways. When she met and married my father it must have come as quite a culture shock to find herself living in a small, close-knit community where everyone knew one another and one another’s business. Neither of my parents were walkers but as a child they would drive my sister and I out to Turville Heath. Over time the heath became my place of refuge whenever I was in need of comfort or in need of re-charging the batteries. It would also be the place for summer walks, playing cricket and picnics. Of equal importance as the heath itself was the car journey out to it – past miniature farm and other magic moments that we children couldn’t get enough of. Click October’s link here to find out more.

*My father, very much the country gent despite not liking guns!*

Looking back even further in time, I explored the lives of ancestral aunts, uncles and cousins. They had been born, married and died in a village very close to the where I had been raised for our family have lived in the area for at least five hundred years. Discovering their stories had been quite a revelation – for my 3rd great-grandaunt had been about to marry in the local church when she gave birth to a child. The repercussion of this – for the child was obviously not that of the grooms – was far-reaching. Devastated Thomas cancelled the wedding and did something rather surprising shortly afterward, as told in September’s blog post. What happened to disgraced Ann? And what happened to poor Henry, the baby boy, who lived with the stigma of his birth? Was it this that took him down the path of self-destruction and a young death many thousands of miles from home in ….. – well, you’ll need to click on the link to find out what, when and where!

*The village church where Thomas & Ann were to wed in 1809*

So, what will 2025 bring, I wonder? World politics seems to be on the news with constant and often seemingly bizarre twists and turns unsettling many of us. I’m quite good at not getting too worked up about things that I have no control over. Fortunately, I live and work in stunningly beautiful countryside and my interest in family history has taught me that life carries on regardless of turmoil all around us. I shall continue to write about my adventures (if that isn’t too strong a word to describe them). I also have a couple of writing projects to see to, and of course, there are my garden projects too. In dues course, they may appear on these pages. As with all my blogs, there are lots of photos to view so why not take a look and please do comment as appropriate.

2021: A Year in Review – part 1

Posted on December 26, 2021 by johnshortlandwriter

With restrictions on movement and socialising for much of the year, 2021 was definitely the year to remember times past, be it visits to favourite haunts or thinking about friends and family. As it was in the real world so it was in the blogging world.

In January my memories took me across the sea to Ireland and a visit to Clonegal, in Co. Carlow. Ireland is a beautiful country with an ancient history. The visit to Huntington Castle, very much still a family home, was very worthwhile as the building itself was interesting, and the gardens, perhaps because they weren’t ornate, relaxing to walk around. A visit to the cellars is a must for it is now a Temple dedicated to Isis. The Fellowship of Isis, started by members of the family, was recognised as a world faith in 1993. I found the ornate decoration rather too theatrical for my taste, reminding me of a scene from an Agatha Christie novel. Take a look at the post by clicking on the link here and tell me what you think.

*Huntington Castle in the south of |reland*

By February the earliest signs of the forthcoming spring are beginning to show. In the garden snowdrops and aconites are in full flower; in favoured spots early daffodils are starting to bloom. In the hedgerows hazel catkins hang in clusters shedding clouds of their golden pollen in the slightest breeze. Hazel, a native shrub, is also a useful one to grow in the garden. It’s pliable stems can be used in a myriad of ways – cut as pea-sticks, or growing into intriguing living tunnels. February’s blog post concentrated on these uses and looked at the ancient art of coppicing – a method of extending the life of the plant and providing plentiful cover for wild birds, animals and flowers. Described as an art, it is however, a very simple technique. Click on the link here to find out more.

*Catkins or Lamb’s Tails – harbingers of Spring*

International Women’s Day occurs in March and I focused on the life of Lettice Fisher, the founder of the National Council for the Unmarried Mother & Child in 1918. Later, the charity changed its name to Gingerbread. A suffragette and economist, Lettice was also a cousin of my father and so family history came to the fore in this post (link here). Later in the year, the focus turned to her husband, H A L Fisher and his story but for March Lettice was the rightful star of the show.

In April, I was able to visit friends for a long weekend, a real treat after all the restrictions. I took the opportunity to go for a long walk in beautiful countryside. Rutland is England’s smallest county and was also the home of the poverty-stricken ‘peasant poet’ John Clare born in 1793. The walk took me past the old lime kiln where he worked and the village where he was raised – his poem The Ruins of Pickworth can be read in the blog post (link here) and there are lots of photos of the ruins as well as views along the paths and byways I walked. Several hours later, when I returned to my friend’s home, I was especially thrilled to have seen a group of wild fallow deer which included amongst them, a rare white hart,

*The ruins at Pickworth were familiar to John Clare, the Peasant Poet*

By May, spring is well and truly established and plants in the garden are flourishing. Everything is growing so fast that it can become overwhelming and with so many tasks to carry out, early supporting with canes and twigs can easily be forgotten until it is too late. Although this can’t be done to every tall plant in the garden, the Chelsea Chop is a drastic but very successful method of treating herbaceous plants so that they don’t need staking at all. The biggest hurdle to overcome with this technique is finding the courage to actually do it! By clicking on the link here you will find a step-by-step guide. Even if you don’t do it to many plants, I would highly recommend that you do it to the Ice Plant, Sedum spectabile which always collapses just as it comes into flower – once you have, you’ll wonder why you’ve never done it before.

*Sedum, the Ice Plant – the perfect candidate for the Chelsea Chop*

For June, it was back out into the countryside to check the state of a venerable old ash tree. Ash Dieback is a serious, recently imported disease that threatens to eradicate one of the most important trees in the British landscape. Younger trees in our parts of the Cotswolds are already showing signs of it, some much more severely than others. The farm where we keep our horses has one ancient tree that has stood sentinel over the adjoining fields for centuries (lots of pictures on the link here). It’s trunk is hollow and owls and bats roost within it; it must have seen generations of them leave its shelter at night. Likewise, it must have sheltered in the day many a farm labourer seeking shade during hot, summer harvests. It will be a sad day when it dies and we just have to hope that it may show some resistance to this new disease. I, all too well, remember as a child when a similar fate overtook elm trees and changed the English landscape forever. Let’s pray that it doesn’t come to that.

*We ride past an ancient ash tree most days*

If it sounds as if this review is ending on a sad note, don’t despair – July to December will be following shortly and there’s plenty of posts on an upbeat note there. My family’s fascinating exploits feature in some of them. Covid restrictions have given me plenty of time to root out the old stories of them – to be honest, I never knew what an interesting and, sometimes, brave bunch they are!!

A Year in Review: Jan- Jun 2015

Posted on December 28, 2015 by johnshortlandwriter

So another year has gone by and as New Year’s Eve fast approaches it is time to reflect on the one past and look forward to the one to come.

I try to visit Exmoor National Park as often as possible for I consider it to be “home from home”. I spent a lot of my youth and early adulthood there on a remote farm not realising that I was witnessing a way of life now gone. With the benefit of hindsight I wish I’d taken many more photographs but, in the days before digital, films were both precious and expensive.

binder copyright

In January, I made a special trip to take a look at the new headquarters of the Exmoor Society in the pretty, little town of Dulverton. The enlarged space that they now have has meant that they it is now much easier to access the archives and seek information. If you are planning a holiday on the moor, it is well worth visiting. Click here to find out more about my day there.

February found me walking along the edge of a precipice and seeking an elderly great-aunt, fortunately not at the same time. I met Ba-ba (how she got this name is still a complete mystery) once as a boy when she was in her late nineties and she left a lasting impression on me. With everyone else that knew her now dead (I’m now the ‘old’ generation) I’ve been trying to research her. Despite the post creating a lot of interest it ended sadly without much success. Perhaps, this post might reach someone who knows who she was. To check out the detective work so far take a look here.

The Precipice Walk in Snowdonia, although not overly strenuous, is not to be attempted by the faint-hearted. Travelling clockwise, the path clings to the edge of the drop before turning back on itself alongside a more gentle and peaceful lake. If you’re afraid of heights go anti-clockwise for a delightful, if somewhat short, walk and turn around when you dare go no further. Alternatively, sit back in your armchair and take a look at the photos here.

A much longer walk, completely different in character, was described in two March posts. Dartmoor is another national park in the West Country but much harsher than Exmoor. Despite its bleakness now, in the past the climate was kinder, confirmed by the large number of Neolithic remains there.

The walk starts at a pub where according to tradition the fire has never been allowed to go out in the past two hundred years. Our path crosses the moor to the village of Postbridge, home of the famous medieval stone clapper bridge. The second part of the walk follows the river before continuing across the moor, taking in beehive huts dating back to 1500AD before arriving at the Grey Wethers stone circles. The twin circles are about two thousand years old. Reaching the stones is described here.

The history of the United States and Ireland are intertwined by mass emigration. In April I visited New Ross in the south of Ireland and the birthplace of John F Kennedy’s great-grandfather. Fifty years after JFK’s visit his sister came to light… Well, read here to find out exactly what she did. The image below might give you a clue.

I stayed with the Irish theme in May and wrote about the lovely village of Castlelyons where a friend spent her early childhood. Well off the tourist trail when you red about the place you’ll wonder why. In the meantime, we had the place to ourselves.

June is a lovely month both for walking and also for garden lovers, with hedgerows and gardens smothered in rose blossom. Continuing the theme of elderly ladies and ancient times the month’s post explored the history of Rosa de Rescht – fascinating for the mystery it holds. Incidentally, even if you a hopeless gardener (and no-one is completely so) this is the simplest of roses to grow…