So where's the snow?

Muddling through life from Austria to Wales; God, life and a small black dog

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A Christmas Canter

I know, I know it’s only September. I am working like mad with marketing an one of the things I’m bad at is leaving enough time for early readers.

These are wonderful folk who receive a pre-publication copy of a book, either to help with editing (ok, blo0ppers) or that in return they will post a review when the book is published.

I have two books nearly ready and I invite you all, if you would like to be an early reader, to drop me a line and I’ll send you a copy. Here’s all about Christmas Canter.

This collection of short stories, is not only for Christmas, but also all year round, because if the stories don’t have snow or Christmas in them, there are always horses.

A new version of A Christmas Carol with an equine cast is funny but remains true to the original. We meet a real horse hero, and the tales of one girl’s pony. Tales from Austria and Switzerland, romance and drama, challenging times and new beginnings. Finally a novella about the craziest Nativity play which includes horses, donkeys, sheep and goats and the homecoming of a lost horse.

Interested? Drop me a line at


Playing with marketing, Challenger

I’ve found this feature called embedding on Amazon, you should see a link below which will take you straight to my book for a preview read. Would someone let me know if this works?


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Blog Holiday

Hi Everyone!

I’ve just finished a new book, and really need to spend some time improving my marketing. So, I’m going to take a blog break until the autumn, to concentrate on it. Please stay following and I’ll see you then.

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Cut off!

Didn’t get to post last week, internet had crashed. Ten days for them to find and reconnect a wire in the box down the road. So I’m now on catch up, more next week. Oh and I finished my next book…and today, one year ago we were in Calais on our return to the UK. Time flies.

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I’ve succumbed to this disease. Fourteen years of living in Austria totally curtailed my book buying. It was ebooks all the time as it was too expensive to buy books or lug them home on the plane. Not to mention all were in the wrong language, I can read German but soooo slowly, it’s no fun.

Now I’m home, we have second hand book shops in Aberdare and Pontypridd. Charity shops everywhere. Not to forget a LIBRARY! FB groups for old pony books that can now send the books to me.

Mostly horse books, old ones from the 30s to the 70s. Monica Edwards. Colonel Dent. But also novel authors, I’ve read for years such as, Nancy Thayer, Rosie Thomas, Miss Read.

But also books on Wales, walking there and its history, especially miming. I’m reading a lot on pit ponies for a new book.

We bought new bookcases, but may need more when I sort all those I’ve bought researching my present novel I’m writing.

It’s wonderful being an addiction! I have piles of to- read books, the eBooks are having a rest. What books do you buy?

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Going back

Way back in the 1980s, Dave and I lived in a tied cottage on the Beaulieu estate in Hampshire. Our first married home and we brought our babies home to it. This is the only picture I could find of the house from the front , and there are none of the entrance from the lane. After seven years, when Dave had a major problem with his arm, we were evicted (although by agreement rather than force) and that day was one of the worst in my life. Even now, when I am bothered about something, I dream of Little Marsh lodge, which is maybe because I’m tapping into that trauma, or it was a wrenching out of a place I loved.

This picture was taken from a helicopter ride I had over the hosue, you can see it under the peddle. The field up and to the left is now a lake.

Over the years, I returned on several occasions to slink down the track past the house to the sea. It seemed the same. Then we heard it had been sold to an actress and after a few alterations, it was completely revamped, even winning prizes.

So, when we were in Hampshire a few weeks ago, Dave, George(our son) and I went to have a look. I embarrassed them by walking down the lane and banging on the door, but although the front door was ajar,and dogs barking, there was no answer, so we walked along the sea front.

This is the entrance from the house side. and below is now, from the other direction, our shed and trees long gone.

Looking at the photos, I see our past has been totally wiped. What was the main house next to the beach has been demolished and what looks like a modern monstrosity being built in it’s place.

Here is where the cattle field had been dug out and turned into a lake.

I know its not good to go back and things don’t stay static, but now, and I’ve never felt this before, it’s over. I never want or need to go back -except. maybe to see what the new house on the beach looks like. I’ve another long overdue closure, but I still want to go back to the house we lived in in Winchester as that has never changed from the outside.

Little Marsh will live on in my mind, my photos, our chat. Maybe I’ve handed it on to our kids too, George can remember it, having been six when we left, our daughter can’t remember it at all. I’m sad that it’s gone for ever, subconsciously I had been hanging on to it. I wonder where I will dream of next time I’m worrying about something?