Tag Archives: Lavender


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What a glorious time of the year Spring is in CHASING BOOK SALES LAND.

The resident ducks have had babies and the kangaroos are coming in to the gardens looking for the new shoots. They have the belief—and I don’t disabuse them of the idea—that I cause the rain to fall that provides them with the new grass that grows just outside the palace doors.

Ducks Kangaroo

The lavender is buckling under the weight of the Fiefdom’s bee population and the Consort and I are already salivating in anticipation of coating the honey on the lovely bread our bakery provides.

The rugosa roses are heavy with flowers, so along with everything else we’re expecting a bumper crop of hips to be turned into jam. The Trigintipetala roses are also heavy with blooms, meaning the Fiefdom’s stock of rose oil will be well and truly replenished this season. Nothing like rose oil to soothe the unquiet breasts of the Fiefdom’s sometimes unruly neighbors.

Lavender Rugosa roses
Trigintipetala roses

In the orchard our apple blossoms have transformed into little new fruits. Come autumn they will be large, red, crunchy and very sweet to bite into straight from the tree or savoured in the cook’s famous pies and strudel. The cherries, too, are abundant this year and will grace the Fiefdom’s Christmas Feast table. And let’s not forget our treasured olive trees which are covered in tiny flowers. They have only been producing a crop for the last two years so My Fiefdomness is still on the pickling learning curve. But I will master it!

Apple trees Orchard
Olive trees

Ah, Spring. Yes, we love it here in CHASING BOOK SALES LAND.


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We have been receiving communiqués querying where lies this little Fiefdom of Chasing Book Sales Land.

It’s a minor fiefdom abutting The Consort’s petty fiefdom of Why don’t you give it away land.

Both are within the borders of the minor kingdom of The Bush Capital, which itself sits within the realm of New South Wales.

It is part of the mighty island nation of Australia that occupies a great swathe of the southern regions.

A long and perilous journey is required to reach its shores but if you ever undertake the arduous trip and travel on to Chasing Book Sales Land you will receive a warm welcome from its inhabitants.

Please note that gifts for My Fiefdomness are customary.

Where lies Chasing book sales land?


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I thought I’d take the opportunity to introduce you to Egbert Rosella, one of my most loyal subjects, because he’s been on my mind lately.

Hang on, I hear you say, in a past communiqué you indicated you were alone in Chasing book sales land.

Yes, forgive me, I did give that impression.

But, in fact, my tiny fiefdom is teeming with loyal subjects. This chap, Egbert, his better half, plus another pair, live in the hollows of a tree next door to the palace.

Egbert 1

But loyal though they be, they’re not above making complaint when they feel it’s warranted.

They’re rather partial to the kitchen garden rosehips as they start to ripen in summer. But the yearly ripening usually coincides with the depletion of rosehip jam in the fiefdom’s larder. So to ensure supply the bushes are netted.

The little chaps do their best to overcome the obstacle. I’m a benevolent despot but I have been known to gesticulate rather wildly in my efforts to let them know I’m not at all pleased.

Egbert 2 Egbert 3

I don’t show favouritism of course, what benevolent despot worth their salt would? But I do have a soft spot for Egbert who has a touch more gumption than the rest of his family and mates.

I had to hide a smile this year when he appeared at the window and tapped with his beak to gain my attention: ‘Er, ahem, Your Fiefdomness, the rosehips, they appear to be netted.’

Egbert 4

Admiring his pluck I pointed him in the direction of the lavender, because he and his family and mates are also very fond of that. They’ve been known to gorge themselves until they resemble little round balls!

Egbert 5 Egbert 6


So, yes, Chasing book sales land does have residents. Sadly for them none of them read, therefore none of them know what fine literature they’re missing out on by not reading Her Fiefdomness’ books.