I am for ever being told I ought to make my blog into a novel.
'You have such a way with words,' Mr Grigg tells me.
'If I didn't live here I think you'd made it up,' Mrs Bancroft says.
'You write much better than some of the people on The Observer,' an earnest Pelly Sheepwash says.
And little Tuppence, dear elfin Tuppence, she of the leggings, Goth gloves and an asymmetric bob, smiles a big smile and says: 'Just go for it Maddie.'
Doggers on Bluebell Hill, dreams of Gingsters pasties stuck where the sun don't shine, a begonia allergy and a cast of colourful characters as long as Mr Grigg's tongue when Posh Totty trots past, it's all here.
The trouble is, I need a plot.
And I think I've lost it.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
As I write, it’s a mad scramble to get things done before heading off on the annual weekend trip to North Devon. In years gone by, there w...
A smell of garlic began to make my nostrils twitch. I was inside the house, the shutters were closed to keep out the sun and mosquitoes and ...
Something for the weekend... Featuring our local beach here in Corfu. That's about it. Love Maddie x
It's ten thirty in the morning and a bus pulls up outside our front door. All aboard for the Sidmouth Special. For just £9 a head,...
Back in Lush Places, a new video has just been premiered on the village website. It might be old hat but we thought we'd get in on the...