A book launch.

On Friday, the 17th April, there'll be a book launch for my book.
The community- minded Forres folk have taken on the running and management of The Tolbooth which sits, fair and square, in the middle of the town. It's a centre for all sorts of civic 'dos', including the monthly Community Council, where the local folk have the opportunity to voice concerns on local matters.
The Coutroom in the Tolbooth is where the book launch will be held. Let's hope the guests have no other concern than having their glass filled so they can toast to the book's success.


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Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

A track well travelled.

This was a part of The Dava Way on a cold January day. It used to be a railway track running between Forres and Grantown-on Spey, but thanks to Dr Beeching's axe, the trains stopped running on it.
Now, thanks to the super human efforts of a group of dedicated volunteers, it's been made good once again, but this time, for walkers and cyclists.
Who'd have thought it! In my Telling Tales book I remember a time when the railway line provided a link between those two towns. Today, there's no  such public transport so unless you've a car and want to make that journey, you'll just have to get on your bike or warn your walking shoes they're in for a twenty two mile hike.

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Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

A book worth reading..

I've been reading Andrew Greig's At the Loch of the Green Corrie. The book's a simple enough concept but beautifully written.
 . Not long before he died, Norman Mac Caig instructed Greig to fish at the Loch of the Green Corrie. Near Loch Inver in the far north of Scotland, it was an inspirational source for much of Mac Caig's poetry. The book's about that journey as well as the authors own life- one and takes the reader to a different and fascinating place.
I once met Mac Caig at a wedding but I think if  Mr Grieg had been the one sitting  at the opposite side of the table, he'd have seemed a lot more comfortable in  the company of strangers.


Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

The trees that tell the tales.

I photographed these trees last week when January hadn't  consulted  its diary and forgetting to chuck down its sleet ration. The North wind too had gone missing. Today, they're making up for it and I'm hoping my trees can withstand their onslaught. They should. They've been here longer than my seventy years.
When I was growing up, the trees stood near the stack-yard of our upland farm. I used to think that the  bare branches must be like the writing on a witch's spell book and that the two Scots Pines on the moor were an elderly couple.
Recently, they've been  much in my mind. Now, no matter what the weather might decide in the future, the trees will have an assured presence on  Telling Tales' pages.
Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

Telling Tales.

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Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

This photograph of the Knock of Braemoray  with the farm of Tombain sheltering beneath was taken in January 2015. For a number of reasons, there'd be no such record if taken at the same time of year and just after the war.

The Forres to Grantown road which passes the farm, would have been snow- blocked and photography would have been reserved for people with huge cameras and mostly based in studios.

I've been writing about these times and hope you'll find the progress reports worth following.

Cyberstance.

It's been so long since doing a blog, I'd to rewind the last six months and finally admit, I couldn't remember how to do one. If you're reading this, it must prove the ultimate success of combining deep breathing, close inspection of the bottom of a too readily emptied glass and the free use of strong language. Writing, Blogging, Facebook and then Tweeting! How easy it is to fall off  social networking's perch.
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Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

EBELTOFT TALK.

We'd a family get together in Denmark, staying in a summer-house near Ebeltoft, a particularly enchanting spot. Go there if you can. Unfortunately I lost my camera which was full of pictures of the area and especially the flowers. I wrote this poem to remind me in words what I'd hope to capture on digital and share with you.

EBELTOFT TALK.

In our opinion
the pink foxgloves are too like strumpets
to be taken seriously.
As Trine's clematis
entwine themselves
we despise the purple
of those social climbing minxes.
The vulgar vetch so careless with favours
allows goosegrass a cheap
tremble in the grass.
So common!
Under a duvet cloud
darting parents feed a bird box
loud in its hunger
limited in words.
Voluptuous hydrangeas, spilling from pots
aim to street crawl.
At least the oak trees understand modesty
their long skirts mocking the shape
of spent rhododendrons.
Whilst pinks cry
We've been here for ever
rugosa rosa rues a
Time's too short.
Our viper's bugloss blue
promotes decorum
dusty by the road.
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Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk