Growing Goats and Girls by Rosanne Hodin (2020)

 

Well, this is a first: a book endorsed by Salman Rushdie! The publisher seems to be hedging his bets by adding a quote from the Sunday Express. These quotes plus the book's title don't do it any justice, they made me expect one of those meant-to-be-funny memoirs of smallholders swimming in mud while the goats eat their clothes, the roof leaks and the electricity goes off. But it is nothing of the kind. Rosanne Hodin can write. And she really ís funny.

Rosanne does not tell us a story from beginning to end but she presents us with a collection of short observations, anecdotes and thoughts, sometimes only half a page long. I assume this makes for easier writing. It is also very nice to read, I would say it is a great bedtime book. However, the drawback is that you don't really get an idea of developments, and that you are kept wondering: what happened next? 

These are the first lines of the book: 'I am hunched and grey, spat out by the hospital. They have battled with my bleeding and doped and stupefied me and the baby has gone.' Wow. Not exactly what you would expect from 'perfect escapist reading'. But after those first lines the tone of the book quickly changes. Escaping from her noisy neighbour Rosanne drives into Liskeard and sees a farm for sale in an estate agent's office. Three pages further on the farm has been bought, the move made.

 

Soon after moving into the farm, bringing their beehives,  Rosanne and husband Michael acquire goats, a cow, chickens, ducks, geese and guineafowl. 'Soon our Large Bottom Farm is ringing with the sound of contented creatures. We feel like Noah and his missus.' Daughter Morwenna is born and Rosanne and Michael find their feet as parents and farmers. A few years later Georgiana is born.

Rosanne goes raspberry picking with Morwenna in a baby carrier. 'I'm suddenly aware that the burble and chat from the baby has stopped and I have a sharp flash of worry that she has fallen asleep before she should. I put my fruit-stained hand on her head to turn it and look down. I find a beaming creature whose face is smeared with mushed berries, juice and the fragments of leaves. Her hands are red and sticky, her face is red and sticky, my T-shirt is red and sticky.'

Michael starts work as a teacher, while Rosanna supplements their income by taking in foreign students who come to learn English. She converts cottages on the property into holiday lets. Later she goes back to university before also becoming a teacher. Combining al these tasks is not easy. At one time she installs goat kids, who need to be bottle fed, into the back of her car, so she can feed them in between classes. This nearly gets her into trouble. 'The NSPCC have been called to investigate why babies needing bottle feeding have been abandoned in a van."

Another time they are going away for Christmas, 'and we can hardly expect anyone to come over to milk the goats', so they also come to stay with Rosanne's parents. The goats are installed in the garage.'They allow us to milk them and feed them and shut the door. But all of this is too strange for them and as we adults are sitting and eating dinner, the call of our baffled goats bleating can be heard up and along the Daglingworth valley.
A sort of Christmas carol.' 

 

 

I will give you some more quotes to give an idea of the book.

Rosanne is invited to a Tupperware party, but there is nothing she want to buy. But wait, 'that box might do for putting a leg of goat in to thaw from the freezer. Oh, no, says the Tupperware lady, you can't do that, it's a cake box. Yes, I argue pointlessly, but it will be fine for the meat and stop the cat gnawing at it and dragging it about the kitchen. Suddenly things seem to have gone very quiet ...'

'The girls have asked for riding lessons. Michael puts on a grim face about this. He has decided that we will never initiate anything horsey, but if they beg, harass, hassle and torment us about having a pony and the begging lasts for at least two months, then we will consider it. Two months have passed and it seems that they have forgotten about horses altogether. Michael is packing away his horse skills with a smug look and is buying sailing magazines. I am alarmed.'

'Buddleia attracts butterflies and me. I see them now fluttering around the two bushes, a standard, pale mauve buddleia that grows in every waste land site, and our garden specimen in deep purple. (...) I am trying not to frighten off the butterflies, but I have my nose buried into one of the marginal flowers, whose point is drooping and not yet blossoming and whose swollen body is a mass of tiny flowers with a coloured inset. The smell is ... summer, laziness, childhood.'

'Someone is coming in through the catflap at night and upsetting dishes of dried cat stars and leaving poo. I ask the cats about this, and we look together at the mess and they give worried looks with big eyes. The girls and I become detectives and look for further clues. (...) Georgie finds another poo and we bend down to inspect it. Too small for fox. Definitely not rat, because rat poo is oval like olive pits. We keep looking until Morwenna sees the culprit curled up between the washing machine and the wall, pressed close to some insulated water pipes.
We have a snoozing hedgehog.'

This is a book about running a smallholding but it is also very much about family life. I loved Rosanne's down to earth attitude to raising children, her  'free range children' as she calls them. 

After thirty years Rosanne and Michael sell the farm and go and work as volunteers in Africa.

'We need to find home for all the critters. They must go because we must go. We have shed creatures before, when there have been too many or someone has wanted to buy; we have culled almost everything if we needed meat or when old age overtook a lingering animal, and we have even dispatched cockerels as severe punishments for bad behaviour. But we feel tender about our assorted flocks and herds and today we are bracing ourselves to hustle twelve ducks into the van and deliver them to a good home at Lantallack.
This is absurdly simple, the trail of food is an easily followed pathway to the van, the future surely is bright for a well-behqved duck. But we have heavy hearts, our innocent ducks will not know the new dangers.
Letting go is harder than I thought.'

A lovely book, highly recommended.

Barter Books

 

 

During a recent stay in England I was able to visit Barter Books in Alnwick, Northumberland. Fortunately, watching an episode of 'Vera' had taught me that Alwick is pronounced Allick, so the bus driver understood me when I asked for a ticket! It takes 90 minutes to get there from Newcastle and Barter Books has its own bus stop.

 

 

Much has been written about this second hand bookshop in an old railway station and when I entered I certainly felt all my expectations were coming true: nicely decorated rooms, a large mural, a toytrain, lots of chairs and sofa's, open fires and a great Station Buffet. This is certainly a destination where you can spend some time.

 

As for the books, I'm not so sure. As they cater for all subjects (see floorplan ) there is a little bit of everything. My impression was that, apart from the antiquarian books behind glass doors, they mostly stock books from the late 20th century and from this century.  When I enter a secondhand bookshop there is always that feeling of excitement, that you might discover something unexpected, find that illusive book, but that wasn't the case here. I had expected to spend hours there, but found I had quickly seen everything. All in all I would say if you have a general interest in books and like reading novels, then this is a great place to visit. If you're interest in is one particular subject, then not so much. But if you are in the neighbourhood: go, if only to have lunch or tea. 

There were two things I found odd: the loud music being played, which I felt did not suit the atmosphere of a bookshop, and the fact that lots of people brought their, sometimes very large, dogs to the shop.

Read all about Barter Books here 

Of course, these were the shelves that I was specially interested in. As you can see, not many books and most of them recent. But I did buy two, which I will write about later. Another book was found in Alnwick's other secondhand bookshop, run by Lions.

 

 

 

The Moon's Our Nearest Neighbour by Ghillie Basan (2001)

 

Ghillie and Jonathan Basan have always longed to live in a remote spot. For two years they have been looking for a small cottage with some land and outbuildings. By chance, a friend spots an ad in Exchange and Mart and they set off to view Corrunich Cottage, in the Eastern Highlands.  

'The track seemed to go on and on, over pot-holes and through snow-drifts along the side of a dense plantation of spruce.' 'To our eyes it looked enchanting. Set in open moorland, 1,500 feet above sea level, with hills rising steeply behind it, it was indeed remote.' At last they have found what they were looking for. The cottage has no central heating, no mains electricity and no phone. By selling their Edinburgh flat they can buy it outright and live off the proceeds for a year. In the long term they plan to organize photography workshops in the converted outbuildings.

The book consists of a series of very short 'chapters', observations, of a few pages, concerning: The Move, Settling in, and Making a Living.

Slowly they settle in to the cottage and get to know their neighbours. They are surrounded by sheep, lambs and ponies (including a wild stallion) who eat their washing. They get used to struggling with the generator and doing without electricity from time to time. Ghillie is an experienced cook who is used to working in primitive surroundings with basic equipment.

'Indeed, the life that first winter was fairly idyllic. Simple and solitary. Time to think and reflect.' Although: 'There was the continual fixing and filling of the generator, digging the car out of the snow, walking up and down the track for mail and supplies ...' Much later in the book, Ghillie observes: 'And it is staggering how time-consuming just living can be. There's the walking out to fetch supplies, the wood to chop and ailing machines to fix. There are gas tubes to drag up and down and vehicles to drag out of snow. There's no end to the chores (...) We can't just call in a plumber, electrician or mechanic, as no one would come.'

Their plan to organize photography workshops does not convince the man from the Enterprise Board ('The way I see it is to open the barn to bus parties and to offer tea and cakes'), so they will have to think of other ways to make a living. So Jonathan starts working in Edinburgh a few days a week and does freelance photography work.  They also decide to revive a cookbook typescript, Classic Turkish Cookery, which has already been rejected by many publishers. But it is not easy keeping in touch with publishers and employers when you live up a track, with no phone or fax! In the end the book is published and it is even nominated for an important award. 

I found this book a very entertaining and easy read, perfect bedtime reading in fact, apart from the descriptions of the delivery of Ghillie's babies. She had the hardest time, with both her daughter (Yasmin) and her son (Zeki), and I found myself gripping my e-reader *) and wanting to close my eyes. Poor woman. But fortunately in both cases she takes home a healthy baby. They find the arrival of a baby changes the attitude of some of the locals: 'A couple on their own can cause suspicion and rumour. A baby makes sense. It conveys a degree of permanency'.

After a while they start converting some of the barns into a studio, dark-room and office, they build a greenhouse and make a kitchen garden, all the time struggling to stay afloat.

'So why do we stay? People often ask us this. Wouldn't it be easier to live in the city and come to the cottage for weekends? Maybe. But now that we've had a taste of the wilderness  and isolation, it's difficult to step out of it. '

'For here, in the depth of the highlands, more than any other place we know, we can give our children the chance to run free in the wild open spaces. And, to us, that's the biggest dream of all.'

Ghillie seems to have found her calling in Scotland and still lives in the cottage, without Jonathan. She writes cookery books, gives workshops and rents out a converted barn. Her children have their own businesses in Scotland but also join forces with their mum. You can read all about it here

*) I prefer to buy paper copies of all the books I write about on this blog, but in this case I was not able to.

One Man & His Plot by Michael Leapman (1976).

I bought this book in 1979 and have not really looked at it since. Like some other books I bought in the seventies it is completely falling apart. 

In the UK 1974 was a year of strikes, power restrictions and the three-day week. And there were shortages. 'Lavatory paper, as I recall, was the first item to fall into short supply.' Sounds familiar ...   When broad beans become hard to find Times Diarist Michael Leapman decides to see about finding an allotment. This is not easy, with waiting lists everywhere, but eventually he finds one near Brixton prison, owned by the Water Board, at 35 p a year. The plot has not been used for ages and is completely overgrown with weeds.

Micheal plans to reclaim the plot gradually and sows and plants on the parts he has cleared. He reports on his progress now and then, striking a chord with readers and the letters pour in, often with (conflicting) advice. Later in the year comments and parodies appear in other papers. 

Balancing working on the allotment with his duties as a journalist is hard and he is not really able to interest family members into helping him: 'my sister-in-law went armed with a folding chair, a rug and a Sunday newspaper, which was nog the idea at all.' However, he finds that even when he returns to find everything overgrown with weeds, the shallots, beans and lettuces are still doing well.

Later on, there is the problem many gardeners face: 'your produce always comes to maturity just as you go away on holiday.' Once again the vegetables survive his absence and he continues to harvest tomatoes, lettuces, marrows and beans. One of the marrows he grows and writes about with great enthousiasm is 'Vegetable Spaghetti.' To his delight Jane Grigson,  a famous cookery writer, telephones him to say that she is writing a book about vegetables and can he advise her on how to cook a vegetable spaghetti marrow?  Alas, I got rid of this cookbook some years ago (because, although I liked reading it I never cooked any recipes from it) so I can't look up her recipe.

The book ends with a list of the vegetables that Michael grew, with notes on how they did, and tips on what to do when.

If you grow vegetables this is a fun book to read about a fellow gardener's experiences. However,  Michael was in such a hurry to finish the book that he did not wait to see how his onions and pumpkins did, nor do we know if he continued with the allotment.

It is also a little time capsule from a bygone era: a time when books on gardening and cooking were quite rare, use of weedkillers was quite common and the only thing you could do with a marrow was to boil it for half an hour and eat it with pepper and salt.

Micheal Leapman wrote many more books on a variety of subjects. He died in 2023. His obituary can be found here .

Wind in the Ash Tree by Jeanine McMullen, with illustrations by Michael Woods (1988)

  

This is Jeanine McMullen's second book on her Small Country Living.  It is about the people she meets, but mostly it is about animals. We know from her first book that Jeanine loves them and feels a need to surround herself with them. That book ended with her receiving a legacy from her father, her mother returning to Australia, and her proposal for a BBC programme called  A Small Country Living being accepted. 

In this book she backtracks a bit as once again she worries about paying the bills and hopes the BBC will take up her idea for a programme. She does not seem to be made for living alone and, after the death of her beloved whippet Merlin, and other animals falling sick, she is relieved to hear her mother, 'Mrs. P' is once again on her way to Wales.

Jeanine's small country living includes dogs, sheep, pigs, horses, ducks, chickens and goats. She is always determined not to buy any more only to succumb to temptation. First she finds a chihuahua called Winston for Mrs.P, then she is anxious to find a replacement for Merlin and a new puppy joins the pack: his great nephew called Merlyn. On one of the final pages we find Jeanine unable to resist a lurcher puppy: Lilly.

 

Most of the animals we got to know in the first book are still at the farm. A few halfbred Icelandic sheep are added when she meets a breeder for her radio show.

Doli, Jeanine's horse starts suffering from an assortment of ailments, which seem to be an indication of boredom, so she is sold to a friend who runs the Smallholder's Training Centre were there is plenty of work for her. A few years later, much to her delight, she is able to buy her back.

 

Halfway throught the book the BBC finally commissions her to make a programme.  Much to her relief it does well: 'For a success it was, in spite of being tucked away on a mid-afternoon slot and quite unpublicized. The morning after it was broadcast, there come a pile of letters which people must have written the moment we were off the air. (..) All of them were ecstatic.' Jeanine travels the length and breadth of the UK to find places, people and animals for her programme.

While this is certainly a book for people who like to read about animals, I enjoyed it because of the interesting people Jeanine meets. I had fun trying to find out more about them.

There is vet Bertie Ellis who had a long career and served on the RCVS Council.

Sue and Darrell Kingerlee ran a bookshop in Llandovery. Darrell wrote Llandovery Album: Pictures of a Welsh Market Town.

Muriel and Jack Sassoon who ran an antiques shop and a second hand bookshop in London.

Ian Wilson who wrote The Turin Shroud.

Gerald and Imogen Summers. Gerald wrote The Lure of the Falcon,  illustrated by 'the Artist ', Jeanine's erstwhile partner, whose name seems to be Duncan McLaren.

Madge Hooper, who wrote several books on herbs.

Antique dealer Barbara Leach.

Andrew and Carry Naylor , Sarah Pitt and Monica Sims, who all worked for the BBC

Diana Joly who bred icelandic sheep.

Artist Leesa Sandys-Lumsdaine.

Sedly Sweeny (who was really called Sedley Bell-Irving Sweeny) and who wrote The Challenge of Small Holding.

 Now I am on the lookout for book number three: A Small Country Living Goes On.

Wil den Hollander - Bronder

While staying at a campsite recently I was browsing the books left behind by other campers and I noticed 'Johanna' by Wil den Hollander. I took it home because I own most of this author's other books though it had been a very long time since I read any. It was only after reading part of 'Johanna' that the penny dropped: these books have a connection with my 'blog books'. It had never occurred to me, I suppose because they are on another floor, on another shelf, with my Dutch novels.

I first encountered Wil den Hollander's stories in my teens, when they were serialised in the weekly magazine my mother read. The author, born in 1915, had emigrated to France in 1947 with her husband and young son to start a farm. In France three daughters were born. She had a very hard life in a strange country, running the household, looking after the children, making cheese, looking after the animals and kitchen garden. She had a taciturn husband who mostly left her to get on with things.

And she wrote. I would say her books are autobiographies disguised as novels. I bought the books in my twenties and found them fascinating, but I had not looked at them until now. There was one thing I remembered most of all: the massive meals Wil had to cook. At times of harvesting or threshing many men came to work at the farm and they had to be fed. In Holland she would have given them sandwiches but in France that just would not do.

Just to give you an idea here is a loose translation from a chapter on threshing. This meant 20 men coming to help and they had to be fed five times a day. Three meals consisting of bread with cheese or meat, cider and coffee with brandy. 

'But it was the hot meals I worried about. Simone helped me draw up a lunch menu: hors d'oeuvres, stock made with three kilo's of beef to which I had to add cream and eggs and tapioca. Followed by green beans in cream, mashed potatoes, cauliflower, four boiled chickens with a creamy sauce, a few fruit tarts, followed by coffee and brandy. In the evening I could serve the leftovers with salad, fried potatoes, and a roast.

The food that had been so carefully prepared was appreciated, but the pudding served with cream and fruit was received with mirth: did Madame think she was entertaining babies? Anything containing milk was not men's food.

I had taken six liters of brandy from the barrel and still they were yelling for more.... 

Wil was a natural storyteller and I was fascinated once again. Apart from books on her farm she wrote about her daughter, who suffered from MS and died young, and her son, who was conscripted into the army at the time of the war in Algeria. I can certainly recommend these books to my Dutch readers.

More information in Wil den Hollander can be found here.

 

Still here!

 Just to say I am still here, I haven't given up on the blog but it is summer and I am doing other things!

A Job For All Seasons: My Small Country Living by Phylidda Barstow (2013)

 

What did I say in my first post? That I was not too keen on reading about animals, or reading books by (rich) people with nannies? Hmmm, somehow Phylidda Barstow made the grade anyway. Before nanny appeared I was completely taken in by her first chapter which deals with buying chickens from a poultry farm:

'In each cage, whose sloping floor was no bigger than a sheet of typing paper, were crammed five clucking, cackling, jostling, pellet-picking chickens, their constantly moving heads pale brown, their staring eyes round and mad, and their bodies almost completely naked'.

'Seventy weeks of close confinement had eradicated all normal chicken behaviour.' The chickens cannot even walk. 'By the next morning two had keeled over and lay stiffly, necks extended - killed, I imagine, by the sudden change in conditions - but the others had begin to shuffle around the playpen, hoisting themselves along with their wings, rather like babies just before they can crawl.'

It takes eight weeks for their feathers to start growing again, and it is a long time before they lay eggs again.

In the early '60's Phylidda and her family, plus Nanny, move to the house in the Chilterns, where her husband (Duff) was brought up. It has a garden and a few acres of land. The first chapters deal with their stay there. Later they move to a farm in Gloucestershire, which comes with more land and enables them to keep more animals. The book is mostly about these animals: chickens, dogs, cats, bees, horses, sheep and alpaca's.

One of the lessons Phyllida learns is to leave well alone: be it moving orphaned chicks in with another hen's brood or hand rearing a ram: it seldom ends well.

The chapters about BSE and Foot And Mouth disease are down to earth and moving and really bring home the risks that farmers run, and the awful fate that awaits animals struck by these diseases.

I would urge anyone who is thinking of keeping sheep to read the chapter The Shepherding Year. There is so much that can go wrong, it would put me off forever!

Phyllida writes about the animals they keep, but also about the ones that invite themselves: 

'Furred or feathered, with two legs or four, with gossamer wings, or far too many feet, or just a single foot attached to a stomach, 'the frontier tribes' are what I call the unofficial, unauthorised residents of our smallholding'.

We can probably all identify with her feelings on magpies: 'Without wanting to sound too high-flown, I feel that all creation has an equal right to life, and animals cannot be blamed for following the nature they have been allotted - at least I do until the juicy, self-satisfied clucking of a magpie raiding small birds' nests in the garden sends such liberal principles flying out of the window.'

If it isn't magpies, it is woodpigeons raiding fruit bushes and vegetable plots, foxes eating the chickens, moles upsetting the lawn, slugs and snails .... Well, we all know the list goes on. One chapter is written from the viewpoint of these animals.

Phyllida manages to grow most of her own food. Selling has been another matter, because of all the rules involved. Therefore she and het husband have not been tempted to give up the day job, 'and anyway running a smallholding is more a way of life than of making a living, since there is small hope of earning more tham just enough to cover the costs.'

 

 

Stones & Stars, a Year in West Cork by Denise Hall (1994)

 

After living in the USA for 10 years journalist Denise Hall moved back to her native Ireland. She found a home in Barley Cottage, near the coastal village of  Glengarrif, West Cork. There was no electricity or running water when she moved in, and she is slowly doing up the cottage, hoping to install a bathroom one day. She has a half acre of land, where she keeps her horse Kitty.

She is struggling to earn a living when one day she meets a local auctioneer who tells her: 'What you should do is buy Lickeen". Denis knows all about Lickeen: '70 acres of land plus a derelict farmhouse, perched halfway up a mountain, the track to it undriveable". At Christmas Denise's daughter Amy, her boyfriend Bryn and family friend Katherine visit and they take a walk to Lickeen. 'To this day my daughter insists it was me who first mentioned buying the place, but I still find that hard to believe. Anyway, once the idea was released into the crisp winter's air, it just refused to go away.'

Soon after Denise becomes the owner and is hit by the realisation of what she has taken on: 'What in God's name was I doing here?. One woman and a hatchet against this untamed wilderness? And while I was indulging in a bit of belated self-flagellation I might as well admit that my new home was unliveable in, even by my fairly flexible standards.'

She discovers that she can get a grant for installing electricity, a condition being that she has livestock. One cow will do. Enter aptly named Electra. Denise starts work on the house and has a builder restore chimney stack and the roof. He also installs a new window, letting much needed light into the kitchen. Work starts on the 'undriveable track' and instead of carrying everything up, she is at last able to drive to Lickeen. 

To make some money she starts writing about her experiences. Her obituary states that this became the column 'Lickeen Letters". Her children come to help, and during the last months of the year Denise struggles to get everything finished before Christmas, when she has to move out of her cottage. Electricity is installed, the kitchen finished and a bathroom installed, and at last Denise had her dream come true:  she can take long hot baths!

After Christmas she still has a hectic time, what with cow Electra and dog Sam giving birth, and having to face all the bills coming in.The story ends on a positive note when a publisher agrees to publish Denise's book.  'I realized that this was only the beginning. Lickeen - this frustrating, infuriating, exhilirating, irresistable place - had not finished with me yet. But that's another story for another day ...' However, as far as I know, she never published another book.

Denise Hall died in 2015, when she was 69. Her obituary states she was living at Lickeen West, Glengarrif at the time of her death. I assume this is the property described in the book.

A Part of Myself by Carl Zuckmayer (1970)

 In an earlier post I wrote about The Farm in the Green Mountains by Alice Herdan-Zuckmayer. I mentioned that although I liked the book, quite a few things remained unclear. Recently a blog reader told me that Alice's husband Carl Zuckmayer published his autobiography A Part of Myself in 1970. In it, he also writes about their time on the farm in Vermont, so this should provide us with more information.

The book is available second hand, but it is very expensive. However, you can read it for free on the Internet Archive

The Kerracher Man by Eric MacLeod (2007)

 

 

In 1976, after Eric MacLeod's father inherits his brother's croft in a bay near Kylesku (Sutherland), Eric and his wife Ruth impulsively decide to go and live there. The croft is accessible only by boat or by a 1,5 mile walk from Kylesku. At the time their two daughters Ruthie and Clare are aged 5 and 3. The decision means Eric, who has been working as a management accountant for an international company, quits his job.

'My mother was horrified and so was Ruth's. Indeed we soon discovered this was the reaction we would get from most people. Neither of our mothers could understand why we would give up such a comfortable and secure life for something akin to living in a cave.'

In the hot summer of 1976 they pack their belongings and move north. The house is in such a bad state that at first they move into a caravan (which had to be floated in on a raft!). Later kind neighbours offer them their house to stay in during the winter.  Bit by bit the house is restored, and a water supply and, much later, electricity are installed. Meanwhile Eric tries to earn some money by doing the school run and by gathering and selling seaweed and lobsters. Ruth works as a hairdresser.

 

 

Eric and Ruth get to know many people in the area and find that there are always neighbours willing to help them and offer hospitality. For a while they keep sheep, and they also develop their kitchen garden, using John Seymour's book as a guide. The children go to primary school locally (this involves a long walk to the road) and later board during the week in Drumbeg.

'Ruthie and Clare explored the surrounds of Kerracher with great freedom, and they learned about the natural world when they were very young. Their proximity to nature meant they discovered at first hand what other children could only learn from books.'

'We were conscious from the start that we were sharing our lives with the wild creatures which had always inhabited this landscape - and the sea.' They share their surroundings with otters, porpoises, seals, killer whales, birds, badgers, deer and foxes.

Making a living remains a problem: selling seaweed and lobsters and vegetables from their garden does not bring in enough. Later Eric makes money odd jobbing and doing accounts work. Then for a few years they are successful fish farmers.

After the children finish school and leave to go to university they decide to sell up and move house, but much to Eric 's pleasure in 2011 his niece buys Kerracher.

When I heard about this book I ordered it right away as it is one of the few I know of to feature a family. I must say I was slightly underwhelmed by it. It is a perfectly nice story, but somehow it all is a bit bland and it did not grab me like some of the other books I own.

And the winner is ...

 As promised all names of people interested in a copy of A Patch in the Forest were put in a hat today:

And the winner was:

Details have been emailed to Odette. To everyone who took part: thanks for reading my blog and joining in, better luck next time, and of course a very Happy New Year!

Would you like a copy of A Patch in the Forest by Elizabeth West?

 

Those of you who have been trying to buy a copy of A Patch in the Forest will know that it is out of print and that second hand copies are hard to come by and expensive. The cheapest I saw today was £ 28. So I was very pleased to hear from Phillippa. She told me she had found this book in a charity shop for only £ 1 and as she already owns a copy she is willing to give it to someone who will refund her costs   (£ 1 plus postage, Phillippa lives in the UK).

So: are you interested? If so, send me an email at farmsonmybookshelf@gmail.com before 1 January 2024.

All names received will be put in a hat and a name will be drawn on 1 January after which I will contact the lucky winner!