Parish Magazine

Dear Readers

We hope you like this cover picture of our park; though the buttercups might be all but over by the time you read this. I was contemplating lying down on the grass to get a worm’s eye view to adorn the cover. Happily, Jonathan, the son of Chief Editor Sylvia Clark (and Brian, of course), saw this view and gave us the picture. He was visiting from Australia and, whilst he was here, his first grandchild (a boy) was born. He was very excited (I’ve seen some of the 100s of photos already sent across the world to his phone) and no doubt felt very far away. Susan mentions in her story that she often visits the US (to see family).

I can hear as I write that our new next-door neighbours have parents arriving to see their new baby: their first grandchild. It set me thinking about families who are apart over distances: not just necessarily half across the world, and about those who have no family. Some of our congregation are about to move nearer their children, others are moving into accommodation with a level of support. Younger members of the congregation may be longing for/dreading the time when their chicks fly the nest.

We often refer to the ‘Church Family’ and we see everyday examples of love, support and caring that come from the friendships built up through the Church. We often hear from visitors and new members that we are a friendly, loving Church. I hope that is a general experience: I know I find it difficult to approach and talk to strangers, but I see very many of our Church Family providing a very warm welcome: I must try harder.

The world is a challenging, perhaps frightening, place at the moment: hopefully the warmth of St Michael & All Angels can soften its edges.

Jane and Christopher Tyrer

Editors

NB Some of the above is written in the first person, rather than the usual editorial or actual ‘we’, for reasons of truth and common sense: it means me, Jane, although I, Christopher, agree … of cour

(Not) From the Vicarage

Regular readers may remember my Sabbatical last year, which included the first 15 days of a (silent) retreat at St. Bueno’s Jesuit Spiritual Centre in North Wales.

I feel very privileged to have just returned from St. Beuno’s for a second time having now completed the full 30 days of the (silent) ‘St. Ignatius Full Spiritual Exercises’. It has been amazing, and I shall write about the experience in more detail another time.

Whilst on retreat I was reminded of my April 1992 musical theatre debut in a production of Godspell. Over the first 5 days of the retreat I was asking God for the ‘gift of an ever-deepening knowledge of Jesus: to see him more clearly, love him more dearly and to follow him more nearly – day by day’. These were the lyrics of the song I delivered back in 1992!

It was an opportunity to immerse myself in the gospel stories of Jesus, to imagine myself there, walking closely alongside Jesus in my imagination, discovering more of his character: his extravagant love, compassion and grace, his patience with those who doubted and were slow to grasp his message, his heart for the marginalised and hatred of hypocrisy and injustice.

Another significant event on retreat was the funeral of Pope Francis II – a Jesuit, whose life was founded on the principles of St. Ignatius. Pope Francis knew what it was to ‘see Jesus clearly, love him dearly and follow him nearly’. I was struck by some words Pope Francis wrote from hospital:

‘Respect yourself, respect others. Walk your own path and let go of the path others have chosen for you. Respect, do not comment, do not judge, do not interfere. Love more, forgive more, embrace more, live more intensely. And leave the rest in the hands of the creator’.

As I enjoy being back home (and talking freely!) my desire is to continue to know, love and follow Jesus and to share the incredible things he has done for you the reader, and for me – I’d love you to join with me on the adventure.

For those who don’t know:

Godspell, based on St Matthew’s Gospel, was the first musical theatre offering from composer Stephen Schwartz who went on to write among others - Wicked. The show features a comedic troupe of players who team up with Jesus to teach his lessons in a new age through parables, games, and tomfoolery.

With a range of musical expression Jesus’ life is played out onstage and, even after the haunting crucifixion, it shows how Jesus’ message of kindness, tolerance and love lives on.

Rev. Helen Peters

Associate Minister

Home: 01494 716772

Mobile: 07792 118357

associate_minister​@hughenden​parish​church.org.uk

Ringing Out In Celebration

Our bells rang out in celebration on 8th May, to mark the 80th anniversary of VE Day. We rang for 1945 seconds and joined churches throughout the country with a mixture of Rounds, Call Changes and a variety of different Methods.

We decorated the ringing room with union flags and VE80 bunting, and also enjoyed eating the official WI’s ‘VE Day Orange and Ginger cakes’, which I highly recommend and for which the recipe is on the opposite page.

Verity Nicholls

Tower Captain

Orange and Ginger Cake

This is a simple and classic bake and is made using The Rubbing In Method – not often seen these days.

It’s a recipe used by my grandmother who had lived through two world wars, and requires no specialist mixer or whisk and the batter will not curdle – a handy recipe if you have little or no equipment. Just as women during World War II would have made it.

You will need: a mixing bowl and a 7 inch round cake tin greased and base-lined with paper or reusable baking parchment.

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees (fan) – 350f – gas mark 4

Eggsploring Fun

The Great Easter Eggventure Cracks the Code!

This Easter, St Michael & All Angels Church in Hughenden was bursting with springtime cheer as it hosted the Great Easter Eggventure—a lively celebration that brought together nearly 60 children and their families for an afternoon of laughter, creativity, and community spirit.

Bathed in glorious sunshine, the church grounds were transformed into a joyful hub of activity. The main event? A brilliant scavenger hunt that had children darting about with excitement, searching high and low for hidden letters. Once all the clues were collected and the mystery word revealed, participants proudly claimed their well-earned Easter eggs—a sweet reward for a job well done.

But the adventure didn’t end there. Families enjoyed a fantastic lineup of games where giggles were plentiful and competition was all in good fun. Meanwhile, the craft tables inside buzzed with creativity as little hands made bunny ears, Easter cards, and colourful decorations to take home.

Adding a hilarious twist to the festivities was an unexpected guest—a cheerful inflatable dinosaur, who stomped (and wobbled) around the grounds, posing for photos, handing out high-fives, and spreading laughter wherever it went. The dino's presence quickly became a highlight for children and adults alike, making the day feel even more magical.

As families soaked up the sunshine and cheered each other on, it was clear that this wasn’t just an Easter event—it was a celebration of community. St Michael & All Angels provided the perfect setting for this cheerful gathering, with its welcoming atmosphere and picturesque outdoor space.

A heartfelt thank you goes to the incredible volunteers who helped plan, set up, run activities, and guide the scavenger hunt with smiles and boundless energy. Their dedication made the day seamless and full of joy, and their behind-the-scenes efforts truly made the Eggventure eggstra-special.

By the end of the morning, with treats in hands and hearts full of happiness, families headed home with sun-kissed cheeks and unforgettable memories.

The Great Easter Eggventure proved that when community, creativity, and a little bit of silliness come together, the results are nothing short of eggstraordinary.

Chris Coyston

Children & Families Minister

07855 389998

chris@​hughenden​parish​church.org.uk

O Barco – The Boat

Inhotim, located in the Minas Gerais region of Brazil, was established by wealthy mine owner, Bernardo Paz. Today, it is a natural heritage site providing visitors access to numerous galleries and large-scale, outdoor art installations scattered across acres of diverse woodland. Although only a third in size and lacking the rich flora environment, the sculpture park at Chateau La Coste in Provence, France, provides a similar, open-air experience. Julia and I have been fortunate to visit both sites, the latter several times.

Out of the 29 artworks, 24 galleries, 30 botanical highlights and 9 themed gardens at Inhotim, one piece, O Barco- The Boat, by Grada Kilomba, a Portuguese multi-disciplinary artist, detained me longest and, had we but world enough and time, I would have remained there in quiet contemplation for the remainder of the day.

The space accommodating Kilomba’s installation is hangar-size and the piece itself appears, at first sight, little more than randomly-placed, over-sized building blocks. On closer inspection and with the aid of the description provided nearby, all becomes clear: ‘Composed of 140 charred, wood blocks that form the silhouette of the bottom of a ship, they draw the space created to contain the bodies of millions of Africans, enslaved by European empires.’  To deepen an understanding of the work, inscribed in gold lettering (signifying the wealth generated through enslavement), the blocks forming the inner ‘circle’ bear her poem:

Pointing to the history of European naval expansion and colonisation, the work leads us into ‘a garden of memory’ in which the blocks and the poem invite us to reflect on the many ‘forgotten stories and identities.’ With some knowledge of this shameful period in our history, including sight of the schematic drawings depicting and detailing, in graphic form, the inhumane living conditions that enslaved Africans endured during their passage across the Atlantic, I found the encounter profound and deeply moving.

On matters relating to slaves, the Bible is complex, controversial and challenging. The Old Testament, in particular, presents several passages condoning it ‘within the context of ancient societies’, while elsewhere we can discern calls for their freedom. However, it remains a sad reality that slavery, in its modern form, is very much still with us today, so I will end more affectionately, as does the poem. In Galatians 3:28 which speaks of unity in Christ, we read that there is "neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus". 

Roger Grant

Hughenden Flower Fesitval

23-25 August

Sign-up to do a flower arrangement on the subject of holidays - contact Susan Brice, festival@​hughenden​parish​church.org.uk.

Cake bakers and helpers with refreshments needed - contact Sylvia Clark, 07570 876530.

Sign-up sheets also at the back of church.

After The Iceberg

You might find it hard to believe, but one of the worst things was that it was so long before Dora knew that I had survived the sinking of the Titanic. I knew she would be stricken with worry and I couldn’t bear to think about mother and how she would bear it.

As Mr. Drummond had been so generous and bought me a second-class ticket, I was able to get into a lifeboat. I shall never forget the sounds of people as they struggled frantically in the freezing water. We were all in utter shock at what had happened and, well, the speed of it all. I had grabbed one small bag with my papers in it but as I was manhandled into the lifeboat, I dropped it and who I was sank to the bottom of the sea.

I didn’t really believe help would come and as I sat, still and silent, amongst the weeping and wailing of others, I considered my dying. I thought I would just gradually freeze to death, my blood slowing and my heart growing faint. But miracles do happen and eventually Carpathia came into view and life began again; just not as I had expected it.

When we docked in New York I found myself in a crowd of lone women, wrapped in blankets that a group from the Travelers’ Aid Society offered us along with mugs of hot drinks. Mine tasted rather odd but it warmed me and being shown such kindness brought tears to my eyes. The lady, I’m sure she was a real lady, sitting on the bench beside me said her name was Rose. She seemed as shocked into silence as the rest of us. I thought about saying ‘shouldn’t you be over there with the first-class passengers?’ but she pulled the blanket down a little to hide her face and was rather panicked when a ship’s officer walked round collecting people’s names. Rose Dawson, she said, stumbling a bit as if she hadn’t said her own name before. I often wonder what happened to her.

But, as for me, well, the nice people at the Womenswear Relief Committee collected up any girls who had a skill or a trade and tried hard to get us a job and a room. Anything to do with lacemaking or sewing seemed to take place on what I came to know as the Lower East Side of New York City. And what a city it was, very scary at first and so many people you couldn’t believe it. I was in a room with two other girls and I couldn’t help but long for the pretty room in Aunt Nellie’s house in London which I had shared with Dora. Dora, just thinking of her filled my eyes with tears. In those first few weeks and months I so badly wanted to write home but I didn’t have writing paper or stamps and I had no idea where a post office was. And then there was the problem of the Drummonds and why I’d come to New York in the first place. I had no idea where to go and the lady who should have met me would not know where I was. And there was the work. I had said I was a lacemaker and I was taken to this small factory run by a Mr. Friedmann. I soon learnt that many Jewish families had settled in this part of the city and were gradually becoming successful in business. Mr. Friedmann was very ambitious and forward-looking and was one of the first to bring in lace making machines. Machines to make lace! Can you imagine it?

I was to learn to use one of these terrifying contraptions. I couldn’t sleep at night and I ached with homesickness. My ears rang with the awful noise the machines made and my stomach refused to settle.

One of the girls in my room, Rachel she was called, was kind. She calmed me down when I found a truly horrible insect in my shoe and told me it was a cockroach and it wouldn’t hurt me. I would get used to them, she said. But I had had enough and I just cried and cried until I was exhausted.

Rachel hugged me and sang me a pretty song in a language I didn’t know. ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ she said. Rachel knew all sorts of back roads which took us away from the crowds and she knew where there were parks and open spaces. The city changed as if it had put on its best clothes. Here the people were obviously not poor but had money to spend on fine things. I looked with awe at the beautiful shop windows; such fabrics and such dainty lace. In front of one I looked up at the name of the establishment and then I couldn’t breathe. Could this be it? ‘Drummonds Fine Tailoring’ the glossy sign read and underneath in slightly smaller letters: ‘Lace Emporium.’ I pulled Rachel inside with me and then realised how we both looked: quite poor, a bit messy, definitely unfit to be customers here. Two ladies headed towards us, hustling us out onto the pavement again. I tried to say that I knew Mr. and Mrs. Drummond and this is where I was supposed to be. Why ever would they believe me?

I began to hang around the shops near the park whenever I wasn’t in that infernal factory. I was trying to come up with a plan. Then, as things happened, I didn’t need one. There I was getting chilly and hungry and wishing that Rachel had agreed to walk with me, when I saw a smart couple come out of Drummonds. I rubbed my eyes to be sure and then ran after them. I stood in front of them and spoke quickly before they could think I was asking for money or something. When I saw Mrs. Drummond open her mouth in surprise and then smile, I knew my world was about to change. Of course they remembered me, they had been looking for me, had checked all sorts of lists to see if I had survived. Where was I living? What had happened to me? The questions flowed as they led me into a beautiful tea shop. The Drummonds, bless them, ignored the disapproving look of the waitress and ordered tea and cakes.

But that was then and this is now. I live in a pleasant room above the lace workshop. There’s still the odd cockroach but as Rachel said, you do get used to it. I love my work, making lace the proper way, by hand. I have six girls who I teach the intricate skills of lacemaking, in particular Nottingham lace. I have some money of my own and even some friends who live in this human patchwork of a place. So many different ways of speaking, dressing, eating. People of many countries and colours and religions. It is quite dizzying. The Drummonds seem happy to employ me. The Lace Emporium provides collars and cuffs for the fine tailoring that goes on here and it is getting a good name with the people who seem to have endless money to spend.

And home. Well, home is still England, but I can at least write and receive letters now. Mother and Aunt Nellie write sometimes but Dora and me, well we write and write. All our thoughts and feelings and pleasures and fears, all put down on paper. I have drawers full of Dora’s letters now. When we found each other, Mr. Drummond was very kind and used something called the telegraph to let Dora know that I was alive and well. We write about her coming to visit and we plan when she will be able to come here and work with me. But for now, there is still the fear of the iceberg. In a while maybe.

 Susan Brice

Groups!

What do you call groups of Christians meeting on a weekday? House groups, home groups, small groups, cell groups, life groups, discipleship groups, or my favourite, sofa groups, are all names used in different churches.

David and I have recently stepped down from leading a St Michael & All Angels house group, after leading it for around eight years. A few years ago, Keith suggested each group should choose a name and write a sentence to say what they’re about. Our group chose the name Seekers, and our statement was this: We seek to develop our faith and our friendship through Bible study, discussion, prayer, mutual support, laughter and social events.

We’ve been members of several different house groups (or whatever you like to call them!) over the years as we moved from one place to another and have always found them a great way of getting to know people and learning from their experiences and opinions.

A brief, informal survey of St Michael & All Angels house groups suggests that more women than men belong to a house group, but far more men than women lead them. Interesting. Do you belong to a house group? Or do you think you might join one, if only it met on a Monday morning / met out of doors / was for men only / focused on social issues or prayer or the environment? You could always start a new house group! Have a chat to Keith about it.

Leaders do NOT have to know all the answers! Nobody does. Leadership can be shared, with members taking joint decisions and each leading a session in turn, as is the case in at least one of our groups. Leading a group does not have to be a lifelong commitment. At one church nearby, house groups run for a term at a time. Everyone can look at a list of what topics or activities are being offered for the term and sign up to a group that interests them.

As we left Seekers, I wrote what could best be described as a piece of doggerel, but it reflects with gratitude much of what we had experienced in our lovely group. Some explanatory notes: we spent a long time studying Luke, which is why it keeps popping up, you can hear David Suchet reading the Bible aloud on Bible Gateway, and if you don’t remember Ann Way, she always had a beautiful smile and she loved to dance, wherever she was

Charlotte Tester

Mother's Union

In May, the Mothers’ Union met for a lovely lunch together at Hildreth’s in Prestwood. It was a good opportunity to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Twenty-one members were there and we were delighted that Keith and Chris were able to join us.

At our next meeting on Tuesday 3rd June at 2.00 pm in Church House we are looking forward to hearing Susan Brice giving a talk on Quilts. Please join us, everyone is welcome.

Dianne Walker

Chiltern Arts Festival 2025

… and how to get a grand piano in and out of St Michael & All Angels.

As I write, we are two thirds of the way through this year’s Chiltern Arts Festival and we have enjoyed an amazing variety of music in unexpected and the traditional places we visit to perform, inform and advance the cause of classical music in our community. We have been globetrotting on the river – Thames this time - providing brass in the open air by its banks, love and harmony with the Wooburn Singers, le voyage imagine, with Anton Lesser, harp playing at dawn on Whiteleaf Hill and, of course, our traditional concert at Hughenden, to name but some.

This has been the eighth time that Chiltern Arts Festival has visited St Michael & All Angels and it is one venue that we particularly cherish. Our grateful thanks to the Vicar and Churchwardens for allowing us to visit and perform and to our congregation which so generously supports us by coming to our concerts, both at St Michael & All Angels and elsewhere. This year at St Michael & All Angels four of The Purcell School’s most talented young pianists came and performed. These were Year 12 students – others more senior and junior were, of course, in mid exam mode – and they came with Professor William Fong who is one of the senor teachers.

The Purcell School is a day and boarding school for young musicians aged between 11 and 18 and is situated near Bushey in Herts. The school cohort amounts to 196 talented young players, singers and composers. Many of their students go on to stellar careers in the musical arts.

We hosted four young pianists – one from Finland, one from Romania, one a Greek Cypriot from Cyprus and one from Japan. They played from memory a rich variety of music from Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Debussy and Janacek. They were brilliant, especially in students still young and learning and it was a riveting set of performances which kept the large audience spellbound and most appreciative. It was pleasing to see our church so full.

It is often said that, unless music is taught in schools as a serious subject, we shall not have this talent in our midst. There must be many of us whose first experience was the (sometimes) tedious recorder or of learning scales on the piano: some persevered, many fell by the wayside! Others remember musicians coming into schools and giving what to pupils was their first experience of live classical music and thus instilled a lifelong love of music of every genre. Our own local exemplar of this is the New Mozart Orchestra, directed by our own Clive Fairbairn, which takes classical music into primary schools and gives the first enriching experience as well as providing the opportunity for young budding musicians to play alongside professionals.

So how does a grand piano get to Hughenden and into St Michael & All Angels, still in tune and undamaged. These are top of the range instruments and extremely expensive – even more expensive to drop. We watched as it came on its side, up the path, down the slope, through the door (it is a huge advantage that the old step has gone and the path smoothed out) up the passage between the sets of pews and, by a mechanical lift, put onto the stage, brought to its feet and retuned. The exit was just as exciting – the same in reverse – which I photographed!

And so, on to the second part of our Festival: the highlight will be 900 primary school pupils in The Wycombe Swan listening to the United Strings of Europe play Vaughan William’s The Lark Ascending, with a quartet of juggler-acrobats performing at the same time. The Vaughan Williams will be performed in a rarely heard chamber music arrangement. Sadly, by the time you read this it will be over, including a repeat performance at Wycombe Abbey School. But – there is always next year, which is already in planning.

Christopher Tyrer

Vice President Chiltern Arts

Nature Note

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities - His eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse”

It’s the middle of May, the month of nature in all its splendid freshness as a new generation is planned. Whether it’s lambs in the field, chicks in the nest, cubs in their den or new asparagus shoots on my allotment (yum!), new life is everywhere.

Birds make this very obvious as they arrive on these shores, some to stay, others to pass through. We call it migration, almost as if it’s a surprise but on reflection we’re watching the pulse, the ebb and flow of not only life but of creation itself.

As the tide rises and falls, so life has its rhythms tied to the earth’s movements. Birds arrive for a while then depart for a while. Are they natives of these isles or where they winter?

Does it matter? Well, it does to the extent of caring for their well-being and habitat whether here or elsewhere.

So, the swallows, martins, swifts, warblers and many others have replaced the redwings, fieldfares, waxwings and crossbills with other species moving through.

Wheatears, redstarts and ring ouzels were all around for a few days over the last few weeks heading for the uplands or western woods. The Chiltern slopes that are bare of woodland attract them as they move into our area, from Stokenchurch to Whipsnade particularly.

Several species have yet to show, black terns (a personal favourite), Montagu’s harrier and honey buzzards are late arrivals. The last two are rare enough to warrant nest guards but can be seen at well-known vantage points.

Of course, every year throws a surprise or two so in the last few weeks we’ve had, due to settled weather methinks, ten hoopoes together on the Scillies, five bee-eaters as a group in East Anglia and five red footed falcons enjoying each other’s company in Suffolk. In fact, almost thirty redfoots were scattered across the south of the UK for a few days. The closest to us were one in Milton Keynes and one in north Surrey.

When they turn up here, they keep an eye on our hobbies because they both have a strong liking for freshly hatched dragonflies which the hobbies, being British born and bred, have knowledge of those locations most likely to produce this bounty. Wilstone Reservoir (near Tring) and the Jubilee River are excellent hobby spots. One redfoot delighted observers by visiting Wilstone for a couple of weeks, a few years ago.

Hobbies and redfoots are small to medium sized falcons with a wing span around 2ft and both with red ‘trousers’ although a hobby is coloured vaguely like a peregrine whereas a redfoot male is slate grey (apart from red feet and trousers!) and the female has upper wing colour like hobby or peregrine with an orange/red head, underparts and hind underwing with, of course, red feet and ‘trousers’.

Red Foot falco vespertinus

Hobby falco subbuteo

An interesting side note for you - the table game ‘Subbuteo’ was invented by a keen birdwatcher whose favourite bird was, you guessed it, the hobby. He wanted to call the game ‘Hobby’ which was rejected on the grounds that that was too generic. So, he fell back onto ‘Subbuteo’ meaning smaller than a buzzard (buzzard is buteo buteo) because the hobby’s scientific name is falco subbuteo!

Another pair of falcons, our All Saints’ peregrine couple, have raised four healthy chicks, (well done we say), although pity the pigeon fancier. I have a growing certainty that pigeon damage on our allotment is far less than just two or three years ago, because of peregrine patrols. All thanks to our peregrine pair, diligent parents indeed. Personally, I love having the fastest creatures on the planet (timed at 230mph) sharing our locality.

Ok, you say, what about the tongue of a gecko or some exotic frog that moves close to supersonic speed when catching prey? Fair enough, I’ll leave you to work on that one.

When you read what Paul wrote in Romans, I like to think he was a nature lover, I certainly have no doubt that the smell of a freshly opened rose, the first rays of sun after a night of rain, a blackbird singing nearby, something anyway of the Lord’s handiwork took his breath away. I know the feeling!

Mike Bevan

Bookends

Alexander McCall Smith: Isabel Dalhousie Novels

I can’t imagine there are many people reading this who aren’t familiar with the name Alexander McCall Smith. The jovial, super brainy professor of medical ethics at Edinburgh University who gave up the day job to become a full-time writer in the late 1990s. The confidence to take this very large step came from the amazing success of ‘The No.1 Ladies’ Detective Agency.’ There have now been 25 novels published in this series, the first in 1998, with several spin-offs on radio and television. Alexander McCall Smith built upon his own personal knowledge of the southern part of Africa, particularly Bulawayo in Zimbabwe and Gaborone in Botswana where he grew up before coming to the UK for university.

‘The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency’ was just so utterly different to anything that was in the bookshops at that time that its popularity is understandable. In the beginning I read them avidly, sequels being produced each year, but I then explored other series that the author was moving into. The first Isabel book appeared in 2004.

Isabel Dalhousie lives in Edinburgh. She is a philosopher in her early forties who lives a comfortable life, financed by a private income. She edits ‘The Review of Applied Ethics’, as editor and then as owner. The stories emanate from the fact that she does interfere in other people’s dilemmas and this gives Alexander McCall Smith the opportunity to explore moral problems of the sort that we all experience everyday but on the whole we don’t recognise them as philosophical conundrums. Is it ever right to lie to someone? What happens if an apology sincerely offered is not accepted? Why we shouldn’t make judgements about the relationships of others.

All these books are character driven rather than relying on a plot to move the narrative forward. I can be happy with that. Nothing awful happens and indeed the author has been known to say that he ‘doesn’t do baddies very well.’ So, dear readers, if you are looking for some interesting but comfortable reading at this time when the world feels shaky and quite scary, maybe these books are for you. I also like the fact that his sympathy and indeed empathy for women shines clearly through his writing and this applies to Mma Ramotswe in Botswana as well as Isabel Dalhousie in Edinburgh.

I have to say I am happier in Edinburgh than Africa (!) but it did suddenly strike me as pleasingly ironic that I have just trodden the grimy passageways and housing estates with John Rebus in Ian Rankin’s books and now I am walking on the other side of the road with Isabel as she shops at the delicatessen, goes to concerts with her bassoon playing boyfriend and explores Scottish colourist paintings in the many small galleries. There are so many parallel worlds. There was one surprising clash though when both authors referred to the real-life criminal case where the murderer had become nicknamed ‘Bible John.’ This remains unsolved. Interestingly, well, it is to me, Alexander McCall Smith, Ian Rankin and indeed Kate Atkinson, all live in the same area of Edinburgh: Merchiston. I wonder if they meet for coffee or a drink?

I found I had the first five Isabel Dalhousie novels on my bookshelves and I have enjoyed re-reading them all. They are still in print but would also be widely available second hand … or pre-loved maybe I should say. There are about 15 Isabel novels now…and still counting. I will acquire a few more at some point. The output of Alexander McCall Smith is truly prodigious; one book a year in most of the several series that he writes. Apparently, he produces at least 2-3,000 words a day even when travelling. When at home he can reach 5,000 words a day. I have also read that he has said that he has so many ideas that he won’t be able to use them all before he dies. Gracious, what an incredibly creative mind.

Happy Reading

Susan Brice

June Recipe

Masala Citrus and Olive Oil Carrot Cake

I love recipes for cakes with olive oil and almonds as not only are they moist but also somehow feel more healthy (reminders of my days as a Health Visitor when one mother thought a Jaffa cake was part of their ‘5 a day’!)

This cake is beautifully moist and citrusy with a raisiny flavour from the Masala if used. It is also moist thanks to the carrots, and a different take on carrot cake to most recipes. Preferably choose a buttery or fruity extra virgin olive oil rather than a grassy one. It freezes well but if the weather is hot, I tend to keep it in the fridge, unless it is all eaten straight away!

Julia Grant

From the Potting Shed

Here we are in high summer and I hope your flowers and vegetables are giving you pleasure. I was helping do the church flowers last week with Beryl. It’s a nice, sociable couple of hours and there’s always tea and cake to look forward to afterwards. Beryl’s lemon drizzle is famous in the village and usually gets first prize in any competition, so it’s good when it’s her turn to do the baking. I like to make a good cherry cake but, sadly, often all the cherries sink to the bottom. MacGregor sometimes turns the cake on its side and cuts a slice out of the bottom half. Cheeky old devil that he is. I won’t complain though as he is bringing in some lovely salad veg this week. I still have some time to wait for those lovely tomatoes though.

Anyway, back to the church flowers. I cut some beautiful roses that grow around the church door and used them in my arrangement. I’m using crumpled chicken wire now as we’re cutting down on the oasis. I thought it looked alright really. Then Mrs. Garfield-Ash popped in, she’s from the Big House, and admired what we’d done. She said that pale rose I’d picked was called Albertine. ‘Proust’s favourite,’ she said. Beryl and I looked at each other. And who may Proust be when when he’s at home?

Enjoy your gardens my dears,

Yours,

Cecily MacGregor