Miss Julia White, horsewoman, sailor, farmer and haunter of my own farming life (such as it isn’t) first appeared in my life when I was 17, trying to get myself to agricultural college. Or was it when

Glasgow, 1942. The Carl Rosa Opera Company was in town to perform Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. Tickets had been snapped up by local people – including many who didn’t really know what an opera was. The

Life at the Royal Agricultural University in Cirencester is as jolly as ever after 180 years, but the diverse degrees on offer reflect the challenges of 21st-century farming. Kate Green charts a history of seismic change for the industry and Mary Skipwith talks to students past and present

Seventy years ago, the Goverment promised farmers that it would help them ‘wring the last ounce of food from the land’. Will we hear those words again?

MISS, I say hold on!” a distant male voice called. Briefly glancing over her shoulder while emerging from Evelyn’s the furriers, Molly Warley smartened her pace and continued walking along London’s Sl

GRACE pulled her coat tighter as she hurried from the air raid shelter to find Mabel with the tea wagon. It was her first day volunteering, and she was anxious to make a good impression. Mabel had alr