My latest traveller came the other way, up the mountain, rather than down. Most going in that direction pass my home early enough that they don't care to stop. The pass is ahead, beckoning with the promise of a crest and a downhill run by evening if they keep going. It's true too, they will …
Today was a foraging day. The garden was well in hand, the bees content, and the Holmeshallow Farm children both away on school camps (for which I think their teachers should be given medals, and a week away at the most relaxing country spa you can find). My foraging basket sits by the back door, …
It's been unseasonably warm this week and someone (or something) has been using my garden sprinklers to cool off. I'd not normally be bothered but whoever it is as no concept of moderation and has all but drowned the herb beds, not to mention leaving the hydrangeas wet, in the full glare of the sun. …
It’s been unusually quiet since Archer moved down to the village, only a merchant family, regular visitors and well-known to Her Majesty, so I’ll not spend the time or ink until they have a story to share. They did give my direction to my latest visitor though. She encountered them near the head of the …
I, in a weak moment, had agreed to keep an eye on both the Holmeshallow Farm kids for the day. Not that I should be referring to Sarah as a child, she'd be mortally offended. Ben, on the other hand, is a textbook example of a boisterous, curious boy-child, who leaps into trouble like it's …
Let me tell you of the first guest I have received since Her Majesty’s request. A tall, quiet man with dark hair and an aura of secrets going by the name of Archer. And, yes, he knew how to use the bow and arrows he carried. He arrived at my door in the pink of …
It seems young Sarah’s new friends got her into a spot of bother. A two-day school suspension sort of bother, and her mother is refusing to let her spend it lolling about, staring at screens. She phoned me after confiscating Sarah’s mobile for the duration. I could hear the howls of affronted horror clear across …
A new solo RPG - this is the introduction. The instalments, as they come, are prompted by tarot cards. Her Majesty has asked me to keep record of the travellers who spend a night beneath my roof. She says it would be useful. Helpful even. I don't know about that but she's a good girl, …
A quiet day today, my only excitement was a lively debate with Sir Scutterscarry, a mouse with delusions of chivalry who lives in the potting shed. He is something of a cheesie, which is a foodie, but – well – you can guess which particular type of food he focuses on. It seems this week’s …
I was in my office (upstairs, computer, back door) when Sarah, the twelve-year-old from the Holmeshallow Farm family came pelting up the driveway. Unusual. She used to be running and skidding everywhere but got in with a new crowd at school, I’m told, and now it’s all about ‘the look’ and never being enthusiastic. I …
The DNA of Stories 