Staunton Notebook – December Bulletin

Shottle farmers – proud as peacocks, Turnditch farmers – poor as crows, Idridgehay we dursna’ speak of, How they live, God only knows. Old Derbyshire Rhyme Farming has always been a precarious business, more so since cargo ships and refrigeration opened us...

Staunton Notebook – November Bulletin

They are crunching under my feet almost everywhere I walk, millions of acorns, more than I can ever recall. Is this a consequence of our changing climate? But it’s only the oaks as far as I can tell; the beech nuts are still the shrivelled triangles I find in most...

Staunton Notebook – October Bulletin

Here at Staunton our close neighbours are the National Trust, owners of Calke Abbey and park. Recently they have come under fire on two counts, closing down their parkland when the virus struck, and re-examining their properties with regard to colonialism and slavery....

Staunton Harold – September Bulletin

On my early bike ride this morning three deer tittuped daintily across the drive, from the direction of New Plantation. Lady, trotting beside me, held to her principle of not chasing anything bigger than herself. A pretty sight, but that wood is supposed to be...

Staunton Harold – August Bulletin

What a world of scaredy cats we have become. And we, the English, who once had a reputation for independent thought and ‘bloodymindedness’ are as much caught up in it as any other nation. We have sacrificed the quality of our lives for quantity, and no one can see the...

Staunton Harold – July Bulletin

Three months on, and we’d like our lives back please Boris. If this ‘social distancing’ M’larkey is reduced to one metre that will make a huge difference, though some people, scared witless by all the doomsters, will still be isolating themselves a year from now....