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I was intrigued to see what Yvonne would create next . . .
BY ALYSON HIL
GOOD morning! Seems like we’re both up bright and early today!” Dianne Fernsby smiled at the red-breasted visitor who hopped about on the bird table close to her kitchen window as she filled the kettl
HELLO, little one!” Penny Dauntless greeted a robin-redbreast, who cocked his head as she pushed along her trolley of post on the daily round. “How often is there such a perfect mid-December morning?”
HER phone pinged with the e-mail while she was lying on the beach. The Greek sun blazed down from – well, being a writer, it was second nature for Amy to think about how she would describe the blue sk
RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white
From childhood collections to international exhibitions, artist Steve McPherson transforms the Kent coast’s cast-offs into powerful works of memory, mystery and meaning
HOLLY pedalled along the track, the winter sun low in the sky ahead. She had one more stop, a stand of yew that would provide the final greenery she needed. Humming “The Holly And The Ivy” under her b