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Fire Dancing in my Lewes Garden.

This is Danse de Feu (Fire Dance), one of my David Austen roses. It has burst into flame this week in its unlikely place at the darkest part of my small Lewes garden on the mostly shadowy North facing flint…

Conchita Wurst: the new voice of Europe – I hope.

I’m unapologetically uninterested in our great European songfest, the Eurovision Song Contest and I have never joined in with all the razzamatazz that accompanies that over-valued concept of it’s-so-bad-it’s-fab campery but, everyone to their own taste. This year though, like…