Podcasts about New Forest

There's been a French Diplomatic Incident this week, and the huns are absolutely Le Fuming. We've been usurped by men politicians (The Rest is Politics) who threw us out the studio and so we bring an unhinged energy to this episode. Expect talk of French Hexes, pain au chocolat, a King of Pentacles reality hit and so much more. Will a lecky fire happen? Are we going to get done by the CIA for being actual witches? We also discuss the sexiness of Firemen. What's your verdict? Fit or Not Fit? THIS WEEK is another stunning Creep of the Week speshy!! We love your tales of true hauntings, and they simply must be shared with the world. Stories as follows: 1) Hannah narrates a tale from Amy Dawson about the 'Hanging Tree' in the New Forest... A very strange tale of scratches and paths and sweary ghosts.... 2) Big Suze has a beautiful tale from Izzy - about a traumatic Brain Injury and a near-death experience... sending love to you hun thanks for writing your story! 3) Hannah reads out a story from J - a very unsettling one about firemen in 9/11 and a trapped soul... 4) Finally we travel to Ireland to hear about PHOTO EVIDENCE of an entity by the Liffey... from Adel & Nichole. All round stunning stories and tune in next week to find out if France and the Rest is Politics survived. WE LOVE YOU HUNS xoxox JOIN OUR PATREON! EXTRA bonus episodes AND a monthly ghost hunt for just £4.50!  Or £6 for AD-FREE EPS and weekly AGONY HUNS! We'll solve your problems huns!  Sign up here: www.patreon.com/GhostHuns wanna see our shows?  SEE HANNAH AT EDINBURGH FRINGE HERE 13-24 AUGUST: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/rip-hannah-bitch-cough-ski-wip SEE SUZIE DO MCSHOW HERE THURSDAY 21 AUGUST: https://www.angelcomedy.co.uk/event-detail/suzie-preece-mcshow-wip-thu-21st-aug-the-bill-murray-london-tickets-202508211830/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My Story Talk 21 The Rocky Road to Mattersey (1972-78) Welcome to Talk 21 in our series where I'm reflecting on God's goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I finished my series of talks on the years we spent I Basingstoke by telling you how in January 1972 God clearly told me that we were going to live at the Bible College. This didn't happen until 1978 when I was appointed principal of the College which by then had moved from Kenley to Mattersey. Today's talk will cover some of difficulties we faced on the way and how the Lord eventually brought us through.   In December 1972, after he had served only two years as the Principal at Kenley, George Jeffreys Williamson suffered a heart attack, probably as a result of over-work combined with an accusation that was made against him by one of the students, and shortly after this the Board of Governors reluctantly accepted his resignation. Meanwhile, as there was no resident tutor at the time due to the departure of John Phillips, the Board asked some of the visiting lecturers, including me, to spend a few days at the college encouraging and taking care of the students.   While I was there, Eric Dando, a member of the AoG Executive Council, asked me confidentially if I had ever thought of becoming the principal. This was not a complete surprise to me because of what the Lord had shown me earlier that year about living at the College, but at that stage I had not thought that I might be the principal. And I had never told anyone except Eileen about it.   So I asked Eric why he was asking that question. He told me that it looked likely that Williamson would sadly be resigning and he felt that I might be a suitable person to take over. Although I felt that at the age of 33 I was possibly too young to be appointed to such a responsible position, I shared with him how the Lord had spoken to me back in January.   The months that followed were something of a rollercoaster as Eileen and I lived with the tension that we all experience in times of uncertainty. We knew that the Lord had called us to the college, but was it his plan that I should be the principal? And was it to happen yet? All we could do was hang on to what God had shown us and rest in the certainty that whatever happens God is always in control.   As it turned out, because a new principal could not be appointed until the General Conference the following May, the Board of Governors asked David Powell, the pastor of the Rotherham Assembly, to take care of the College until then. Meanwhile I was waiting to see if I would be nominated. Apart from Eric Dando, Arnold Shaw from Bracknell and Pastor Appleby from Reading had also expressed their confidence in me, but although individuals could make suggestions, nominations would only be accepted which had the support of at least one official council. And when Pastor Appleby suggested my name in a District Council meeting, the chairman, Billy Richards, said,               In a few years, perhaps,   which was to prove to be prophetic. I was encouraged by this, as Richards was, like Dando, a member of the Executive Council and a man I highly respected, and it was evident that he did see the potential in me but felt that now was not the right time, which confirmed what I had already suspected. It was clear that I would not yet be leaving Basingstoke, but that the Lord would fulfil his purpose for me at the proper time, and I had peace about that.   That is until the unprecedented events that took place in May at the General Conference! Immediately before the vote was to take place to determine which of the men who had been nominated would be the next principal, there was a prophetic word saying that the man God had chosen knew who he was and that he should come forward and declare it! This threw the conference into confusion as it was completely contrary to the normal democratic process practised at conference.   The Chairman had to make a decision. The prophecy had to be judged. He conferred with the Executive Council. The matter was put to the conference, and it was agreed to proceed in line with the prophecy. The man whom God had chosen knew who he was, and he should come forward and declare it. Was I the man? The problem was, I knew I was called to the college, but the Lord had never told me that I would ever be the principal.   But while I was still churning these things over in my mind, David Powell, one of those who had been nominated, walked forward and told conference why he felt he was the man. I need to say, in passing, how unfair this procedure was to the two other nominees, one of whom, Clifford Rees, was not present because he was speaking at a meeting in another part of the conference. He told me afterwards that he would not have accepted nomination if he had not felt that he was the man.   After Powell had made his statement the chairman gave opportunity for people to make comments or to ask questions, and one of those who came forward was my old pastor, Alfred Webb. His way back to his seat went right by me and I decided to ask his advice. A few months previously I had confidentially shared with him how I felt God had called me to the college, and so I quietly asked him if he felt I should share it with the conference. His reply was,   Yes, it could be a B that leads to an A.   So that is how I came to tell the entire conference, explaining that I had not come forward before as I could not claim that God had called me to be the principal, but that I did know that God had told me I would live at the college, and that if Brother Powell were elected, and felt it were appropriate, I would be willing to serve under him.   That day Powell was appointed having received the required two-thirds majority vote of the conference, and a day or so later, when I had heard nothing from him, I approached him and said that I hoped he did not mind what I had said, to which he replied,   My heart is with you I this matter, brother. Wait and see what happens. So I waited, and soon I discovered that he had appointed someone else to work with him. It was weeks later, however, before I received a letter from him saying that he would be happy for me to continue as a visiting lecturer teaching the same subjects as before. In fact, I was the only member of the old faculty who was invited to do so. I decided to accept even though my visits were to be monthly rather than fortnightly due to the fact that the college had now moved to Mattersey, some 200 miles north of Basingstoke, much further from home than Kenley had been.   During the four years that David Powell was the principal, the college was facing considerable difficulties due to the fact that only part of the property at Kenley had been sold and there were insufficient funds to refurbish and develop the property at Mattersey. This was very evident each time I visited the college as a lecturer and, from 1976 onwards, as a member of the Board of Governors. And although these problems were not of Powell's making, it was also very clear to me that there were administrative issues that could easily be rectified without incurring any additional expenditure.   As a result my desire to be more fully involved in the work of the college was increasing steadily, but at the time there seemed little likelihood of this happening soon. But then, quite unexpectedly, in January 1977 Powell informed the Board of Governors that he had decided not to stand for re-election at General Conference. (At that time all heads of department were subject to re-election every two years). So the other members of the Board agreed unanimously to nominate me.   But when the news was out that Powell was not standing for re-election I was not surprised to discover that two others had accepted nomination from different councils. There was of course no guarantee that I would be elected especially bearing in mind the confusion that had arisen at the time of Powell's appointment, but I was nevertheless quietly optimistic that this might be the year when the Lord's word to me would be fulfilled.   However, shortly before the conference we received the staggering news that Powell had changed his mind! He was going to stand for re-election after all. This was, to say the least, administratively inconvenient, and was not a little nerve-racking for me, but I was reassured by the Board of Governors that they would in no way withdraw their support for my nomination.   But that was by no means the end to Powell's vacillating behaviour. On the first day of conference, he announced that he was withdrawing his name from the list of nominees. Once again the entire conference was thrown into confusion. As a result, when the vote was taken, none of the candidates received the required two-thirds majority and the appointment of the principal was placed in the hands of the Board of Governors and the Executive Council.   A few weeks later, at a meeting where I was of course present as a member of the Board, various names, including mine were suggested and voted on by secret ballot, but none of us received the necessary two-thirds majority. So what next? It was finally decided to defer the appointment until the 1978 conference and meanwhile to appoint for the next year a team of three principals each of whom would serve for a term at the college but who would throughout the year be jointly responsible for the college.   This was sometimes referred to later as the year of the three principals and, crazy as it may sound, turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I was appointed to serve for that year along with Alfred Missen and Keith Munday and benefitted greatly from their wisdom and greater experience in ministry as we made decisions together about the curriculum, the members of faculty, the timetable for the year, rules for students, and so on.   I agreed to take the first term and, with the exception of the two weeks I was at camp in the New Forest, was resident in Mattersey from the end of July until Christmas, going home only for occasional weekends to see the family. The other weekends I was away on ministry, often with some of the students promoting the college. It was on one of these occasions that I went with about 50 of our students to Newport in South Wales. There was a big inter-church meeting on the Saturday night and on the Sunday the students went to different churches to sing, testify, and preach. I stayed in Newport to preach in the church there.   After Sunday lunch the pastor, Eric Dando, asked me if I would like to phone Eileen, which of course I was grateful to do. After telling her that the weekend was going well, I asked her how she was and was shocked to hear her reply.             I'm O.K., but I very nearly wasn't!             Oh! What's happened? I replied. She told me that there had been a women's missionary meeting in London and that she and several of the ladies from the church in Basingstoke had gone to it. They had travelled in two cars and on the way home, on the road between Reading and Basingstoke, several horses ran into the road in front of the cars. It seems that they had escaped from a nearby field. One of the horses collided with the car in which Eileen was travelling in the front passenger seat. The impact was so great that the front of the car roof caved in, to within an inch of Eileen's head. The car was a complete write-off and, as the people from the car in front walked back to see exactly what had happened, they feared the worst. At this point it is important to explain that at that time the wearing of seat-belts was not compulsory in the U.K. and the car in which Eileen was travelling didn't have any. Bearing in mind the speed at which the car had been travelling when it collided with the horse, both Eileen and the driver should have been thrown forward through the windscreen. Indeed, the woman seated behind Eileen was thrown forward so violently into the back of Eileen's seat that it was twisted out of position. Yet Eileen was not thrown forward, and none of those travelling in that car was seriously injured. They all walked away relatively unharmed. Eileen told me that throughout the whole incident she was strangely conscious of something – or someone? – holding her to the back of her seat, preventing her from being thrown forward. Was it a coincidence that on that very evening I had been preaching in Newport on a subject I have rarely preached on before or since? My subject was ANGELS. On another such occasion we took a bus-load of about 45 students to Bethshan Tabernacle in Manchester. There were several hundred people in the meeting during which the students sang and testified and I preached. As soon as I had finished preaching , an Irish woman near to the back of the meeting began to speak in tongues. As I was still at the microphone, it seemed right for me to interpret so that everyone present would hear and understand what had been said. So I spoke out in faith trusting that God would give me the right interpretation for what had been said in tongues. When I had finished, we sang a hymn and the pastor  closed the meeting in prayer. As soon as the meeting was over, one of our students, Guetawende Roamba from Burkina Faso, rushed up to me. He was clearly very excited, and when I asked him what was the matter, he told me that the woman who had spoken in tongues  had been speaking his native language. Now in Burkina Faso they speak French, and because I speak French, I knew that she had not been speaking French. So I wondered what language it might be.             What language? I asked. Moré, he replied. It's our native African language. Only the educated people speak French as well. Frankly, at that time I had never heard of Moré – and we found out later that the Irish lady who had spoken in tongues  had never heard of it either! But I was excited that I had been present when speaking in tongues had been recognised as a real language. At the same time, I was not a little concerned because I was the one who had given the interpretation! As I mentioned in an earlier talk, I had been interpreting tongues since 1960 when I was a student at Oxford, but it had always been (as it always must be) ‘by faith ', and I had no certain evidence that the gift was genuine. I had simply trusted the promise of Jesus  that God gives good gifts to those who ask him (Matthew 7:11), but it's easy to imagine how embarrassed I would have been if I had ‘got it wrong' in the presence of one of my Bible  College students! I hardly dared ask the question, but I knew I had to.             And what about the interpretation, Gueta? Was it accurate? And of course, it was. I wouldn't be telling this story if the interpretation had been wrong! What an amazing thing! The Holy Spirit inspired an Irish woman to speak an African language which she had never heard, or even heard of, and then gave the interpretation to an English man who had never heard of it either! So exciting things were happening during the term I spent at Mattersey. The Lord was certainly encouraging us, but in the light of all that had happened at previous conferences I knew there was no guarantee that my position as principal would become permanent. Friends like Paul Newberry and Henry Drabble had told me they thought I would never be appointed as principal. My Oxford MA would count against me! And towards the end of the term there was to be a special conference at Mattersey to debate whether AoG really needed a Bible College! What's more, humanly speaking my financial position was far from secure. Keith Davidson, one of the elders at Basingstoke had given up his secular employment to give himself full-time to the work of the church, but had exhausted his savings, so I had told the church to pay him instead of me as I felt that the Lord might soon be moving me on.   These were the kind of things that were occupying my thinking until, during the New Year Convention in Denton at which I was preaching, I finally came to the conclusion that nothing really mattered except for the fact that Jesus died for me. I gave it all to him. And he did meet all our financial needs that year, although I had no guaranteed income, and in the 1978 conference I was finally appointed as Principal of Mattersey Hall Bible College.  

With rumours continuing to surface regarding another potential Bournemouth departure in Illia Zabarnyi, Sky Sports' Mark McAdam joins Sam and Tom at the New Forest Pantry in Ringwood to mull over the latest goings on at Dean Court... We discuss the prolonged Milos Kerkez deal, the conjecture about Zabs's potential move to PSG, and the concern at having to replace 4 of our 5 back-line - plus we ponder whether Andoni Iraola has the hunger to continually oversee these season-on-season transitions. Visit the New Forest pantry on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/thenewforestpantry/ or visit their website at https://www.thenewforestpantry.com/ - why not pop in for a coffee and sit in their sun-trap of a courtyard. They're located at: 18-20 High St, Ringwood, BH24 1AF. Thank you to everyone who has contributed to all our platforms. If you're enjoying this show, you can help support us by buying us a coffee at ⁠https://www.afcbpodcast.com/coffee⁠ – we really appreciate it! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In this live interview, I am joined by Dr Christina Oakley Harrington—medieval historian, long-standing practitioner of witchcraft, and founder of the renowned Treadwell's Bookshop in London—for a conversation that traces the intersections of scholarship, community, and contemporary esotericism.We explore the historical development of modern witchcraft, with particular attention to the inclusive dimensions of early Wiccan covens such as the New Forest group. Drawing from Christina's research, the discussion addresses the presence of LGBTQ individuals in the early history of the Craft, challenging homogenised narratives and highlighting the movement's radical potential from its inception.Our dialogue also reflects on the transformation of esoteric communities in London over recent decades. Christina discusses the decline of public gatherings such as the Pub Moots of the 1980s and 1990s, and considers the evolving role of the esoteric bookshop as a site of both knowledge transmission and community formation in the contemporary landscape.The conversation further addresses her personal journey from academic research in medieval studies to the establishment of Treadwell's, offering insights into the ways historical scholarship and spiritual practice can mutually enrich one another. We also touch on her written contributions, including Dreams of Witches and The Treadwell's Book of Plant Magic, which exemplify her ability to synthesise rigorous historical insight with accessible spiritual praxis.ABOUT OUR GUESTChristina Oakley Harrington is an independent scholar of religion who works on twentieth century pagan witchcraft and the history of European herbal magic Trained as a medieval historian (PhD UCL), she was a Lecturer in History for twelve years on the faculty of St Mary's University (Surrey). She is author of Women in a Celtic Church: Ireland 450-1150 (Oxford University Press) and Dreams of Witches (Black Letter Press) as well as articles both scholarly and journalistic. She co-edited Abraxas: International Journal of Esoteric Studies 2010-2015. Her popular work Treadwell's Book of Plant Magic, aimed at a general audience, has sold over 10,000 copies in the five years since its publication. Since 2003 she has run Treadwell's Bookshop in London, a crossroads between researchers and practitioners of Western esoteric traditions. In Spring 2025 she was Scholar in Residence at Harvard University's Center for World Religions. CONNECT & SUPPORT

Geoff and Rory are joined by Lord Montagu of Beaulieu and his nephew, Ben Montagu-Scott, for a fascinating episode on the extraordinary and storied history of Beaulieu Palace House in the New Forest, Hampshire.Originally the 13th-century gatehouse to a medieval abbey, Beaulieu Palace House is an unusual example of Scots Baronial architecture in southern England (see our episode on Scots Baronial with Dr Ralph St Clair Wade). Owned by the Montagu family since the Dissolution of the Monasteries under King Henry VIII, this podcast traces the transformation of Beaulieu through centuries of architectural change, royal visits, decline and ultimate resurrection begun under the pioneering stewardship of the current Lord Montagu's father, whose seminal book 'The Gilt and the Gingerbread (or how to live in a stately home and make money)'  gives this podcast episode its title.With lively anecdotes and insights, you will be drawn into a world where medieval roots meet modern comforts, where traditional farming meets cutting edge tourism... and where a public attraction meets a family home.

What if belief in God isn't about blind faith, but about asking the right questions?Join Dominican sister and Catholic theologian Sr Hyacinthe Defos du Rau as she explores what we can truly know about God, and how reason and faith work together in the search for meaning. Together with Pierpaolo Finaldi, Sr Hyacinthe touches on some of the big questions in Catholic theology - who God is, how Christian hope offers strength in uncertain times, and how faith helps us make sense of what we see and feel in the world around us.What does it mean to say that God is love? How do we respond when prayers seem to go unanswered? Why is belief in God deeply relevant in today's world? Find answers in this insightful episode and learn why ultimately, belief in God isn't irrational at all, but a reasonable conclusion.About This Week's Guest:Sr Hyacinthe is a Dominican Sister of St Joseph based in the New Forest, England. Originally from France, she discovered her vocation in her late teens and joined the community in 2000. She has worked extensively in catechesis and adult faith formation, and now leads Light of Truth, an initiative offering live, online theological training. Sr Hyacinthe is known for combining deep theological insight with a passion for evangelisation and a commitment to making the Catholic faith accessible, grounded and alive.Explore the work of Sr Hyacinthe and her community:Explore "Light of Truth" faith formation by the Dominican Sisters of St Joseph: https://www.lightoftruth.uk/Find out more about the Dominican Sisters of St Joseph: https://www.dominicansisters.net/More from the Catholic Truth Society:What do Catholics believe? https://bit.ly/3YV1srVGet email updates from Into the Truth: https://bit.ly/3H809jm

In North and South (1855), Margaret Hale is uprooted from her sleepy New Forest town and must adapt to life in the industrial north. Through her relationships with mill workers and a slow-burn romance with the self-made capitalist John Thornton, she is forced to reassess her assumptions about justice and propriety. At the heart of the novel are a series of righteous rebels: striking workers, mutinous naval officers and religious dissenters.Dinah Birch joins Clare Bucknell to discuss Gaskell's rich study of obedience and authority. They explore the Unitarian undercurrent in her work, her eye for domestic and industrial detail, and how her subtle handling of perspective serves her great theme: mutual understanding.Non-subscribers will only hear an extract from this episode. To listen to the full episode, and all our other Close Readings series, subscribe:Directly in Apple Podcasts: https://lrb.me/applecrnaIn other podcast apps: https://lrb.me/closereadingsnaRead more in the LRB:Dinah Birch: The Unwritten Fiction of Dead Brothershttps://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v19/n19/dinah-birch/the-unwritten-fiction-of-dead-brothersRosemarie Bodenheimer: Secret-keepinghttps://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v29/n16/rosemarie-bodenheimer/secret-keepingJohn Bayley: Mrs Ghttps://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v15/n05/john-bayley/mrs-g Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

My Story  Talk 17 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78  Part 2 Welcome to Talk 17 in our series where I'm reflecting on God's goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I was talking about the evangelistic missions we organised in Basingstoke, but these tended largely to attract adults, and the children and young people needed to be reached too. So that's our subject for today.   Children's Work At first, the only children we were reaching were those who came to our Sunday School, which was held at 10am before the 11am Communion Service. One of those children was Rosie Wilcox (née Wright), who later became Jonathan's Sunday School teacher. Fifty years later, I still exchange Christmas cards every year with Rosie and her husband Paul.   However, we soon began to reach other children in what was then a more unusual way. To the best of my knowledge, we were the first AoG church in Britain to organise a pre-school playgroup. I had felt for some time that most church buildings were not being used to their full potential. I talked with Bill Mitchell, the church elder, who himself was a businessman, and he wholeheartedly agreed. The church building was standing empty in the daytime for six days a week. And we were on the edge of a new council estate where most of the houses were occupied by young families.   So, we checked out the legal requirements, and discovered that our facilities would accommodate up to 40 children, provided that we had one adult for every eight children present. We obviously needed to invest in the right equipment, and Eileen knew exactly what to get. In fact, with her administrative skills, she was the ideal person to take charge of the whole thing, and before Debbie and Sarah were old enough to go to school, they could be with her while she was at playgroup.   We started by opening for three mornings a week, but the demand for places was such that before long we were open for five. And we had adequate workers to take the full complement of forty, so for five mornings a week, as well as supervising and organising the children in their play, they were able to tell them about Jesus. That was, of course, the most important thing, but another welcome benefit was that, from the small charge we made for each child, we were receiving enough income to pay the mortgage on the building!   And an unexpected result of running that playgroup was the request I received to exorcise a ‘ghost' from one of the nearby houses! It happened like this. It was 12 o'clock and the playgroup session was ending. I happened to be present having a chat with Bill Mitchell, when one of the mums came in and said,   Is one of you the vicar?   And although I don't usually go by that title, I said, Yes, I am.   She then asked if I could help her because, she said, there was a ghost in her house. Could I get rid of it? To which, knowing that in Christ we have authority over the forces of darkness, I replied,             Yes, of course.             How much will it cost? she said.             Nothing, I replied.             Wow! That's good, she said, the spiritualist wanted a fiver.   She gave me her address and, that evening, I went with another brother to visit her. We told her that her greatest security would be to let Jesus into her life and led her in a prayer for salvation.   Of course, the so-called ‘ghost' was actually a demon, because there is no biblical evidence for the existence of what people call ghosts, but the woman did not know that. She said that it usually appeared at the top of the stairs. So I went up after it and, although I could see nothing unusual, I did feel a distinct drop in temperature. So I commanded the thing, whatever it was, to leave in the name of Jesus. At once the woman, who was standing in the hall with the other brother, suddenly shrieked.   There, didn't you see it? It went right past you!   So, although I couldn't see it, I chased it down the stairs, opened the front door, and told it to get out and never come back. The following Sunday she was in church to say thank you and told me that it had gone.   So running a playgroup certainly put us in contact with the people in ways we did not expect, but in Britain's fastest growing town the playgroup and the Sunday School we ran in our church building were by no means sufficient to spread the good news among the children, and we soon decided to launch a second Sunday School in a school on the Oakridge estate. This was only possible thanks to the commitment of our teachers who, having taught in the morning in Cranbourne Lane, were willing to give up their Sunday afternoon to teach the same lessons to the children in Oakridge.   Another children's work was started by Hilda Gibbons, an elderly widow who opened her home every week to some thirty children on the Winklebury estate. And we reached hundreds of children through the holiday clubs we organised. These lasted for a week or so towards the end of the long summer holidays. They were led mainly by Anthea and William Kay assisted by other church workers, SPF students and other Christian teachers all of whom we accommodated throughout their stay.   Notable examples were David Littlewood, later to become an AoG pastor, and Phyllis Parrish (née Sowter) who was baptised in the Spirit while she was with us and later became a student at Mattersey and a missionary to Bangaladesh.     Youth Work Some of the older children who came to the holiday clubs were also attracted to our Friday night Youth Meeting. This was our main means of reaching young people on a regular basis and, for most of the time we were at Basingstoke, was led by me. Our church was situated right next to Cranbourne Lane Comprehensive School, where Debbie and Sarah became pupils and I became a parent governor. We also attracted young people from other parts of the town where some of our members were teachers.   The church minibus, faithfully driven by William Kay, was vitally important for this work, although it wasn't worth much financially. At the time we had no suitable garage for it, so it was parked each night in the road at the back of our house. One night, in the early hours of the morning, we were woken up by the sound of our dog barking and then I realised that someone was banging heavily on our back door. As I went to the window I became quickly aware of another noise – the constant sound of a car horn. It was our minibus, and the neighbour banging on the back door had come to ask us to silence it.   I quickly threw on some clothes and hurried outside to see what I could do. To my surprise the driver's door of the minibus was wide open. I wondered why, as I was sure I had locked it the night before. But my first task was to silence the horn, so I quickly disconnected the battery. Now the horn was silent I could go back to bed, hoping that not too many neighbours had been disturbed.   Next morning, as I was apologising for the noise in the night, another neighbour told us they had seen what had happened. Two men had broken into our minibus, but the moment they opened the door the horn had suddenly started sounding. This apparently had caused the men to panic, and our neighbour had seen them running away. Their attempt to steal our minibus had been thwarted!   Of course, it may be possible to think of a rational explanation for all this, but it's important to mention that the horn on the minibus would not normally sound unless the ignition was switched on, and there was no form of burglar alarm fitted to the minibus. But whether there's a rational explanation or not, as far as I was concerned God had protected our vehicle. He works in natural as well as in supernatural ways, and we will probably never know why that horn sounded just at the right moment – except that God knew that we needed that minibus! In addition to the weekly youth meeting, we also organised at least two week-long missions, one where Warwick Shenton was the evangelist, and another led by Paul and Janice Finn who were the national youth evangelists for Assemblies of God. We were able to get them into several of the secondary schools in the town where they spoke in school assemblies. This way we knew that the vast majority of teenagers in Basingstoke had the opportunity to hear the gospel.   But it was at the regular weekly youth meeting and its associated activities that close personal relationships could be formed with the young people. We organised walks in the countryside, barbecues, and games evenings where we had great opportunities to get to know them better – and for them to get to know us better too. And nowhere was this truer than at our annual youth camp.   New Forest Pentecostal Youth Camp While we were at Colchester I had organised a youth camp on the island of Mersea and, thanks to Eileen's culinary skills and to the things I had learned as a teenager in the Boys' Brigade, this proved highly successful. So towards the beginning of our time in Basingstoke I made enquiries as to what sites might be available for us to do something similar near us, and I discovered that the Hampshire Education Committee had one near Brockenhurst in the New Forest. It was set in beautiful countryside, was within a short driving distance from the coast, and had the advantage of flush toilets and showers!   All the equipment – tents, marquees, tables, benches, cooking utensils etc. – was provided on site, which was managed by a very helpful warden, a Welshman called Eddie Davies. So we decided to give it a go and, as an initial experiment, took a group of about 15 young people for a few days in the school summer holidays. It went so well that we decided to return the following year for a full week and to invite other AoG churches to participate. I put an advert in Redemption Tidings and over the years the numbers increased to some 150 young people each week.   Eileen and I planned the weekly menu which, although it was somewhat restricted by the cooking equipment provided at the site, nevertheless comprised three hot meals a day, prepared by teams of dedicated workers. The only exception to this was that when we all went out for the day – to the Isle of Wight, for example – everyone prepared their own sandwich lunch straight after breakfast with the food we provided for them.   Much of the food we bought came in large cans obtained from the cash and carry store in Basingstoke and transported down to Brockenhurst in the minibus in advance. The rest we bought on a daily basis from the International store in Brockenhurst who, incidentally, issued vast quantities of Green Shield stamps, which, when you had saved enough of them, you could trade in for a variety of items displayed in the Green Shield catalogue. I seem to remember that Eileen and I got our coffee percolator that way!   The daily programme involved breakfast, during which each of the tents was inspected for tidiness and hygiene, followed by a short devotional involving a song, a prayer, and a Bible reading. The daytime was taken up with recreational activities including at least one day trip to either Hengistbury Head or the Isle of Wight, afternoon trips to Milford-on-Sea, or a treasure hunt in the New Forest. As a family we all enjoyed going down to Brockenhurst a week or so in advance to prepare for this, when we would compose a poem giving clues to the route.   But the most important part of the camp programme was without question the meeting we held in the marquee each evening. These involved worship, prayer, testimonies, and preaching followed by an appeal. Every year we saw dozens of young people respond, either for salvation or for a renewed commitment to Christ. And many were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues. I still receive testimonies from people, now in their sixties, of how they met with God in those meetings.   After each meeting there was a break when we opened our tuck shop for half an hour. This was followed by a time of singing in the marquee, or, once a week, around a camp fire. The only exception to this was the long hot summer of 1976 when we were at camp for three weeks and when everywhere was so dry that it was illegal to light fires anywhere in the New Forest. Those weeks spent at camp during the seventies were wonderful times of blessing for all involved and form some of the happiest memories of my life.   But such blessings do not come by accident. They come as the result of prayer, commitment, and teamwork. None of it would have been possible without the dedicated help of Basingstoke church members like Hilda Gibbons, and visiting pastors and their wives who over several years brought their young people to camp and shared in the work and ministry. Of special note among these were Mike and Beryl Godward from Corringham, Brian and Audrey Quar from Crossacres, Manchester, and Colin Blackman from Tonbridge Wells, all of whom became good personal friends.   But these were not the only relationships that were formed or developed at camp. We really got to know our own young people much better too. Some of them came down early to help unload cans of food from the minibus and to assist in the erection of the tents, and I learned that forming relationships with young people, letting them know that you love them rather than just preaching at them, was the way to gain their loyalty and respect. This is essential if we want them to follow our example in following Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1).   One example of this was Linda. She, along with her twin sister, Sue, had become regular attenders at our Friday night youth meeting. On one occasion we were having a sausage-sizzle in the church grounds. Linda was standing next to me looking into the fire when she told me she was thinking of leaving us. So, putting my arm round her shoulder, I said to her, Oh don't leave us Linda. We all love you. We'd really miss you. Linda didn't leave us, and her relationship with Eileen and me deepened when she came to babysit for us from time to time. I recently discovered a letter she had written to Eileen in 1974 in which she said, Entering your home is so different… there's such a lovely atmosphere within it...  as soon as I entered the home I felt more confident in myself. Thanks for talking to me, so far since I've spoken to you I've felt up on top of the world… I want to say a big thank you, but I don't think I could ever write or say it the way I feel to a friend like you... Thank you for praying for me.   Later, when her leaving college coincided with my becoming principal at Mattersey, Linda became my secretary, only leaving when she married a student from Switzerland, where she now lives. But in 2012 she made a surprise visit to England when she came to our Golden Wedding anniversary. Of course, Linda was an exceptional case, but her story does illustrate the value of making time to develop relationships with children and young people wherever possible.

It's that time of the year again where Ann and Coxy leave the Petersphere and take a trip to beautiful Beaulieu in the New Forest for the Gardeners' World Spring Fair. In this episode they speak to Emma, Charles and Chris from Hilliers, Oliver Parsons from the RHS, father and son from Headley Jonny & Inigo and Kelly-Jane Leach. Kelly-Jane Leach is also known as @Dirtygardenhoe on instagram. You can view her profile hereSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Spring is the season when gardeners throw off the hibernation and slumber of months of wet feet, many layers and waterproofs and are reborn anew! The stirring of life in the garden is one of the years great experiences, and makes a gardening life such a worthwhile pursuit, not only is it good for the planet to see the earth greening up, it is also good for the gardeners soul. But there is still lots of hard work to get on with - seeds have to be sown, mulch laid, supports erected and lawns mown. So join Lucy and Saul as they continue their professional gardening lives in the pure heaven that is Spring!Now a fixture on Saul and Lucy's calender - the BBC Gardeners World Spring Fair is somehting the pair look forward to every year, especially as it is a chance to catch up with the wonderful garden team at Beaulieu and see what delights catch our eyes in the Ornamental and Kitchen Gardens. Alice in Wonderland is a definite theme this year - not only does the gardens have some very detailed Topiary Mad Hatters, but also the best of the Beautiful Borders had a Tea Party theme as well - congratulations to Jonathan and Bryony. Instagram link:Lucy lucychamberlaingardensLinkedIn link:Saul WalkerSupport the show

May in the Garden 2025 short notes v2It's May and as the saying goes, “N'er cast a clout till May is out”. A proverb which reminds us about the fickle British weather and its ability to bathe us in warmth one day and bring chilly winds the next! Peter Brown and Chris Day discuss what gardening tasks need to be done in one of the busiest months in the gardening calendar, plus a round-up of events and topical news stories.What's on2 - 4th May: BBC Gardeners' World Spring Fair, Beaulieu, New Forest, Hampshire. 2 May - 10th August: Unearthed: The Power of Gardening, British Library, London.8 - 11th May: RHS Malvern Spring Festival, Three Counties Showground, Worcestershire. 20 – 24th May: RHS Chelsea Flower Show, Royal Hospital, Chelsea, London.24 May - 1st June National Children's Gardening Week.30 – 31st May: Scone Palace Garden Fair, Perthshire, Scotland.NewsChelsea 2025 gardens showcasing climate resilience.Monty Don's dog, Ned assists in creating first dog friendly Chelsea Garden.Frank P Matthews to debut at Chesea Flower Show showcasing Malus.England's non-woodland trees freely mapped for first time.Ancient oak tree cut down by Toby Carvery.National Trust steps in to save rare Black Poplar trees.Mixed fortunes of UK gardens visitor numbers in 2024 revealed.Biddulph Grange Stumpery renovation completed.A call for action over declining hoverfly numbers from The Wildlife Trust and RHS.Horticultural Trade Association supports Urban Green Spaces Bill.2025 Ballot open for 10 Downing Street Garden which will be open to the public for one day.Rising costs lead to Shrewsbury Flower Show cancellation.Westland Horticulture acquires Bulldog Products.Huw Richards and Gardena search for Britain's best plot in new competition.Survey conducted by Stihl highlights common garden mistakes Peter A. Cox of Glendoick, a pioneering figure in the world of horticulture and rhododendron cultivation, has died.Lawns overlooked in new builds.Wildlife gardens see a ‘change for the better' say Wildflower Gardening Forum.DIG IT Top 5 Top Fragrant Plants5th spot Lonicera Gold Flame, 4th Lavandula Hidcote, 3rd Rose Lilac Bouquet, 2nd Trachelospermum jasminoides and Lavandula stoechas at the number 1 spot.Plants mentioned: Polyanthus and Primulas – perfect for division, Swede, Beetroot, Carrots, Autumn Cabbage, autumn / winter Cauliflowers, Broccoli, Peas, Potatoes, Radish, Lettuce and Spring Onions. French and Runner beans, Sweetcorn, Courgettes, and Pumpkins. Blueberries, Cranberries and Strawberries. Sweet Peppers, Chillies, Aubergines, Melons, and Cucumbers. Summer bedding and Seasonal plants. Aquatic oxygenators, marginals, and waterlilies. Pop-in / Drop-In Speedplanters.Products mentioned: Bug Hotel, Horticultural fleece, Dutch Hoe, Ericaceous fertilisers, Garden Netting, Evergreen 4-in 1 Lawn Food, Lawn seed, Hanging baskets, and Melcourt Peat-Free Tub and Basket Compost.Our thanks to Chiltern Music Therapy for supplying the music. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I have to admit my kids have got me fully invested in "Is it Cake?" At some point in England last year, someone begged for us to watch the show while we ate green pesto pasta on the couch after a long day of hiking in the New Forest, and I said sure. It was the beginning of our "Is it Cake?" era. We've gasped, we've squinted, we've cheered. We all love trying to tell which one is a purse and which one is a cake, and we've all exclaimed in SHOCK over those cake-based faux-leather laces. All of which is not really an ad for the show, but just my introduction for today's idea for gamifying the study of thesis statements. Because you guessed it, we're all about to ask ourselves... IS IT A THESIS? Go Further:  Explore alllll the Episodes of The Spark Creativity Teacher Podcast. Grab the free Better Discussions toolkit Join our community, Creative High School English, on Facebook. Come hang out on Instagram.  Enjoying the podcast? Please consider sharing it with a friend, snagging a screenshot to share on the ‘gram, or tapping those ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ to help others discover the show. Thank you!   

In this episode of “In Stride,” Sinead is joined by international 4* event rider Lucienne Bellissimo. Lucienne Bellissimo is an international CCI4* event rider, ranked 9th in the 2023 US Eventing Rankings and among the top 50 in the World FEI Eventing Athlete Rankings. Born in The New Forest, Hampshire, UK, she grew up riding and competing both racehorses and event horses. Her training has been influenced by top names, including Oliver Townend, Mark Todd CBE, and Erik Duvander. Alongside her riding career, Lucienne holds a BSc in chiropractic and founded the equestrian startup Horse Scout, later securing backing from Google Campus London and Black Box VC USA. Now based in Florida and South Carolina, she continues to compete at the highest levels while blending her passion for sport and technology. In this episode, Lucienne discusses topics related to the business side of eventing, including: • The sales-driven mindset she developed growing up. • Her journey to founding Horse Scout Eventing, a thriving training and sales business. • The internal struggle of keeping top horses to pursue her dreams versus selling them to sustain her business. • How the emphasis on dedication and training in eventing makes the sport more accessible. • Her strategies for maintaining both mental and physical health. Join Lucienne and Sinead in this exciting conversation on balancing equestrian success with business savvy.

 A Country Inn venture brings Joe some special opportunities. By jonnicat. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe Leman could not prevent his dirty mind getting carried away as he fantasized about the next guest at his Little Country Inn. Lea looked stunning in her profile photo on the booking app: erotic platinum blonde hair, alluring facial features, wicked smile and a look of naughtiness in her eyes. He could be wrong and she might well have zero interest in him, but he had a hunch that she was going to be as wild as she looked. He felt that familiar stirring of his libido as he anticipated her visit.The cottage was the perfect discreet ‘Bed & Breakfast', hidden in the trees, invisible from the lane that led from the distant main road. This was one of the reasons people like Lea booked it for a weekend break. In fact the cottage inn was a former gatehouse at the entrance to an estate. The owner, Joe, had inherited it and decided to turn the small place into a holiday let to help pay for the upkeep of his larger manor, nearby. Joe manages an investment fund and brought in a partner to operate the orchard, on a common sharecropper arrangement. The cottage has been renovated to include the most updated kitchen & bath furnishings, as well as central air. But the structure retains all the eighteen sixty character and charm. It has a master suite and two upstairs smaller bedrooms. The back patio has a hot tub and fire pit. So this hottie, Lea of London, reminded him of a woman he had met and had wine-fuelled sex with, at a travel industry networking event the year before, which took place at a remote old country house that had been adapted as a conference center, an hour north of London. Her name was Gabriella. She was a rep from a tour operator who had been seated next to Joe at the welcome lunch. They had chatted and flirted increasingly shamelessly over endless champagne. She was in her late forties, at least, he guessed. Slim, long straight natural blonde hair, pert boobs, seductive smile and the most luscious pink lips (which she was expert at licking in the most erotic manner). By the mid-afternoon they were tipsy and horny as hell. She had made the first move while they were still at the table. Sliding her arm under the linen tablecloth so that no one else would notice, she had run her fingers up his leg, caressing his inner thighs through the tight trousers of his bespoke suit. As usual he wasn't wearing underwear, so when her fingertips reached his crotch she could easily feel his cock, swollen and pulsing against the tight fabric as she stroked him. She leaned towards him to whisper, 'You're a big boy, aren't you?' To this he had gasped and replied, 'That's the effect you have on me!' She rubbed harder. He tried not to moan out loud. She whispered again, 'Let's take this to the cocktail bar.' He grinned at the way she stressed the syllable "Cock". Joe followed Gabriella out of the dining room to the lounge bar, trying to be discreet by following a few steps behind her, not that he really cared whether anyone else noticed them slipping off to have a drink together. Truth was he wanted to check her out from behind. She wore elegant black heels, a short black skirt (legs bare) and a cobalt blue silk blouse, which during the lunch had been unbuttoned enough to show her generous cleavage, she had seen him ogling and grinned at him. From behind she looked stunning, striding like a catwalk model, flicking her long hair, swishing her waist and showing off her tight buttocks as they strained against the tight material of the obscenely short skirt (no visible panty line, he was pleased to see). Was he mistaken or could he smell her too? Was she wearing knickers? He determined to find out. They sat at high stools in the far corner of the candlelit bar. As she wiggled her way up onto the stool, turning it to face his, her legs parted and he could almost see up her skirt. He could definitely smell her cunt now: a rich aroma of pure sexuality wafting his way. She ordered a gin martini; he had a negroni, served by a discreet barman who knew Joe from a previous visit when Joe had been hosting an event there. At that moment he had an unbidden moment of fantasy, imagining inviting the guy to join him and Gabriella in his room, suspecting (correctly, as he would discover later) that she loved threesomes. Meanwhile, he raised his glass to her and they toasted: 'To pleasure!' As she knocked back her drink he saw her legs part again, revealing a brief glimpse of a tiny white triangle of material, So she was wearing panties! They were as close as they could be, sitting on separate stools. He considered suggesting they move to one of the sofas, but for now they were content to be facing each other, legs touching, eyes locked, smiles hinting the kisses they both yearned to give and receive. How to get her up to his room, or hers? She took the next step again. She looked him right in the eye and said, 'Here's a game. We each guess whether the other is wearing underwear. You go first.' He didn't let on that he had already glimpsed hers. He replied, 'What do I get if I guess correctly?' She gave him her wicked grin, 'If I'm not, I'll lift my skirt and prove it. If I am, I'll take them off and give them to you.' He smiled. 'And what do you get if you guess correctly?' She licked her lips. 'If you're wearing any, go to the gents, take them off and throw them in the bin. If you're not wearing any, unzip your fly and show me here!' He nodded. 'Go on then, you first,' she said. He pretended to try to see up her skirt so she edged her legs together, giggling. He smiled, made a gesture of pondering his guess, then whispered, 'I know by now you're a very naughty girl. I don't think you're knickerless but I bet you're only wearing a tiny thong?' She grinned. 'Good guess. Now I suppose I'll have to take it off and give you a souvenir. But first it's my turn. Are you going commando, I wonder? Hmm, Yes, I bet you are, you wicked man!' He nodded, 'Correct.' She looked at his crotch, 'Go on then, show me!' Joe glanced around the bar. There was nobody watching. Maintaining eye contact with Gabriella, he unzipped his fly, reached one hand in and pulled out his cock, enough for her to see the bare tip and top of the shaft. He was sure she would smell him now, knowing he gave off a strong natural sexual aroma. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. She felt her wetness increase, thinking, My knickers must be soaked! He squeezed his cock back into his pants. 'Your turn.' She nodded. 'Sure, I'll just go to the ladies'. He watched her ass again as she slid from the high stool and sidled off across the room. While she was gone he ordered a bottle of champagne and said to his barman friend to hold it on ice for a few minutes because they might need it sent to his room, or hers. He slipped his friend a generous cash tip as he signed for the order. Moments later Gabriella returned to his side. Before going to her stool she put her hand in his, transferring the tiny sliver of sodden silk to his grip. He felt the wet thong in his palm, glanced down at it and put it in his trouser pocket, then sniffed his fingers approvingly as she watched and giggled. Before she could sit down again he asked, 'Shall we go somewhere more private? I've ordered us some more bubbly, if that's ok?' She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. 'Great idea. Have it sent to my room.' And so, after a mostly liquid lunch and their stimulating fun and games in the public bar, they found themselves in her suite. She immediately pushed him against the wall and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He pulled her close, reaching down to grasp her athletic buttocks which were straining against the tight skirt. Her hands went to his waist, unbuckled his belt. His hands slid up her thighs to clasp her bare cheeks. He felt her hard nipples as her body pressed against his chest. She felt his cock pressed against her lower tummy. His hands squeezed her buttocks and his fingertips slid between them, feeling the wetness oozing from her. Her fingers deftly undid his fly and pulled out his cock as his trousers fell to the floor. He slid a finger inside her lips, into the pink wetness. Moments later, clothing scattered across the lush carpet, they were on the bed, nude. He lay on top of her, pinning her down with his muscular body. His cock was pressed against her stomach. He felt so turned on he could imagine rubbing it against her and quickly coming all over her stomach and breasts, but he knew she would expect more than that and anyway he wanted to fuck her properly. She parted her legs and wrapped them up round his waist. This of course spread her cunt wide open. He looked down, across her flat tummy and smooth mound with its downy triangle above bare lips, split by her wet slit. It was time! He edged his cock down between her thighs and pressed the tip against her lips and up across her clit, which was swollen and ready. She gasped, 'Fuck me!' And then he was in, plunging deep into her slender body, the full length of his shaft easily sliding into her. He moved his head down to kiss her breasts, licking and gently biting her nipples as she moaned and pulled him further into her, grabbing his waist as he plunged deeper. 'Come in me!' she ordered. He felt her body bucking, arching up against him as she gripped his throbbing cock with her powerful cunt muscles, as if she was desperate to cause him to climax. He obeyed, thrusting, hard, soft, in and almost out, then deep again, until he felt that familiar wave of lust, riding through his body and let himself go. With a groan of delight he came deep inside her, spurting powerfully into her willing cunt until he was done, then collapsing onto her, still kissing her breasts, neck, mouth. 'Now lie on your back,' she told him. As he did so, she moved around into the 69 position, kneeling over him, lowering her rear end down over his face and taking his cock between her lips. She licked his cum and her juices from his shaft and lowered herself further. His tongue flicked out to lick her soaking wet slit, tasting her sweet juices and his own cum as it seeped from her. He ran his tongue all along her slit and rimmed her rear hole, causing her to wiggle and push herself further onto his face. Meanwhile she continued sucking his cock dry and playing with his balls, so that before long he was getting hard again. He continued kissing her cunt, sliding his tongue in a figure of eight across her cunt lips, before flicking the tip against her swollen clit, varying the pace and direction. She gasped and shuddered as he continued to stimulate her, sensing the first wave through her body. And then, with a final few licks, he brought her to orgasm. She moaned as she came, juices pouring out of her, into his eager mouth. He lapped greedily. At the same moment she had his cock down her throat, taking the entire stiff shaft and sucking, feeling it swell and throb. Inevitably he came too, shooting into her eager mouth as she swallowed greedily. They didn't leave the room until the next morning, spending the night exploring each other's bodies and trying all manner of positions and techniques. They even fucked in the shower. And when he was spent, they invited the barman to join in, when he delivered another bottle, to feed her appetite for cock and being fucked. She didn't rest until both men had fucked her and left her a trembling wreck on the messy sheets. And that was only the first night. That, Joe had thought, is what I call hospitality networking! Joe's smartphone dinged, waking him from the daydream. The text is from Lea, affirming her arrival in 10 minutes, or so. And now, as he prepared Orchard Cottage, he wondered how this 'Lea' would behave and whether she would be so willing and hungry for sex. He would soon find out, Lea had booked it for a long weekend. As far as he knew she was coming alone, which was unusual but not rare. A single woman down from London, wanting to 'get away from it all', he suspected. From her profile on the booking app he had seen she was an attractive mature woman with long fair hair and a seductive smile. He wondered what she imagined a weekend here would be like. Typically he left his guests alone during their visit, meeting them only once, on their arrival, to show them round and give them the key. But he lived close by in case they needed anything. He could not help wondering whether this solitary woman would want anything he could provide. The cottage was cozy, quiet, isolated. So if a woman wanted to be alone it was the perfect refuge. But if she wanted any company, well, he would be happy to provide any personal service she desired. It wouldn't be the first time he had been invited in to the cottage by guests who found themselves craving some company in this most isolated spot. He still had the pair of knickers the last single woman had left! She was due to arrive any moment. It was late evening on a warm Friday in early summer. Dusk had not yet fallen. The trees cast warm shadows around the cottage. The last rays of sun lit up the small windows. Joe had prepared the fireplace. Guests always wanted a 'real fire' with logs. He had left a complimentary bottle of red wine too. Would she want to drink that on her own? Anyway, he thought, let's see how things go. I'll show her round, let her settle in, make sure she has my number. If she wants to be left alone, fine. Otherwise, anything is possible. It gets chilly at night out here, she might want someone to stoke the fire for her, keep her warm. He felt a thrill of lust as his imagination roved. Having finished preparing the cottage, he was now just outside the door when he heard a car slowing down, turning in from the quiet lane. He stood waiting, dressed in black jeans and a blue denim shirt, untucked. He ran his hand through his hair, smoothed down his shirt and faced towards the lane. An Audi appeared, approached, stopped in front of him. He smiled as he saw the woman through the windscreen. He was pleased to see she was alone. She turned off the engine and stepped out. He took a step towards the car, trying to imagine how he would appear to her. 'Hi, you must be Lea. I'm Joe. Welcome!' He smiled again as she looked him up and down. What was she thinking, feeling? What would she desire? It wouldn't be the first time Joe Leman (his professional persona, though not his real name) had fucked one of his guests. Far from it. In fact he had lost count of how many women he had seduced, or been seduced by, during all his years in the hospitality industry: at business conferences he had hosted, in those identikit hotels where clients relished being away from their partners for a night, invariably drank too much, and ended up fucking each other all night; at Mediterranean holiday resorts, where sex-starved bored wives would take him to their rooms while their husbands were out playing golf; or at the small country house hotel in the New Forest that he had run until recently (in which he still owned a controlling shareholding), where women came for a girls weekend or hiking or riding, all of which made them uncontrollably horny and easy prey for their handsome host. One of his most treasured memories of these numerous encounters was a night spent with Connie; a stunning and filthy executive from some marketing firm that had its annual retreat at a remote country hotel in Hampshire. He had been asked at the last minute to fill in as the hotel's lead facilitator, to make sure the client firm got what they were paying for, in terms of facilities, refreshments, evening entertainment. Connie, a slim fit blonde in her forties, had chatted to Joe in the hotel bar on the first night, having slipped away from her increasingly drunken and boorish colleagues. After draining another cocktail she had fabricated some excuse to get him up to her room, claiming something or other wasn't working and asking him to help her with it. As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them she had snogged him up against the wall, sliding her hand into his trousers, rubbing his bare cock, then stripped him and led him to the king size bed. There she undressed, lay on the bed and insisted that he tie her to the bedframe with his tie, then fuck her while she pretended to resist (not the first woman he had known to want a forced sex fantasy). After he had emptied himself into her she demanded that he turn her over and whip her bottom with his belt. She had squealed with delight, feigned terror at this 'punishment', then insisted on taking his cock into her mouth, expertly licking and sucking him hard until he came again. She had swallowed every drop of his cum, had him untie her, left him her knickers as a souvenir, then rejoined her party at the bar. And now he had inherited the secluded house and its quaint Orchard Cottage which got regular Air b & b bookings. It was usually couples having a dirty weekend, sometimes dirty enough to invite him to join in. Occasionally women craving a romantic escape or meeting their secret lovers; they too would sometimes let themselves be seduced while he helped them settle in or got the fire going. Ah yes, the old fireplace, guaranteed to conjure up the desire to be naked in front of the flames, drinking and fucking through the night. What action that fireside had seen! Joe found that his  6 foot height, dark eyes, chiseled looks, fit body and smart clothes always gave women a good first impression. But he knew his most powerful secret weapon was his sexual aroma. He had learnt early on that he gave off a rather powerful manly scent, strong pheromones and sweat that had a peculiar effect on women. For this reason he never wore aftershave. He showered daily, but never used deodorant, and rarely wore underwear. He kept himself clean and well groomed, sure, but he allowed his body to give off its natural sexual aroma. He trimmed but didn't shave his pubic hair, aware that this too accentuated the sexual attraction by holding the scent around his loins. Sometimes he would even run his hands inside his trousers, up and down the shaft of his cock, between his arse cheeks and around his balls, just to get his musky scent onto his fingers, meaning it would waft around him and make it even more likely that any women he met would unknowingly detect it and find herself sexually stimulated. It usually worked a treat. And now here he was perhaps about to fuck this stunningly attractive guest, Lea (or whatever her name really was? Guests often used an alias. Several female solo guests had either been turned on by his sexual presence, betrayed surely by the bulge in his Levi's, or who was just extremely horny. Perhaps one of those women with an insatiable appetite, a primal lust to fuck and accustomed to getting what she wanted. He had made every effort to stay cool when he first saw her arrive, not to let his eyes pop out like a cartoon fox, or his tongue drool like a lusty hound. Instinctively he must have looked her up and down (he wasn't always subtle) as she stepped from her sleek Audi, taking in her surprisingly high heels, slim legs, a glimpse of stocking top, shockingly short skirt, blatantly transparent blouse, her striking platinum blonde hair and pretty face. She had a look in her eyes too, like a woman with great hunger, used to feeding her wild appetite at will. Joe wondered whether she was really staying alone. Often the person who booked didn't tell him who else was going to accompany them. Lea seemed like she wasn't going to spend the weekend alone: he imagined that she was well capable of giving herself a lot of solitary pleasure (no doubt she enjoyed a wank at least daily, as he did), but equally took the opportunity to use a man whenever she felt like it. Was her lover going to arrive later? Or lovers, plural! But for now it was just the two of them in his cottage. He made the usual fuss of showing her where things were, leading her round the place. A couple of times he caught her checking out his backside or crotch. He kept in shape and had been told he had good legs and a firm well-shaped arse, so he wore jeans that fit him well, accentuating his physique and showing the bulge of his cock. As he gave the tour he admired her too, noticing with delight the erect red nipples straining against her silk shirt, and her shapely legs, leading up under the tiny skirt. The best view was of course when he followed her up the stairs, a few steps behind, just the right distance to see up her skirt (surely she was aware of that!). The curve of her inner thighs led to a shapely double crescent of lower buttocks, unencumbered by panties, as she wiggled her way up the narrow staircase. In fact, was that a glimpse of bush he saw? That was when he was sure he could smell her too: an unmistakable scent of cunt, causing an involuntary licking of his lips and a strong twitching of his cock, now straining against his jeans. He also admired her petite figure and generous boobs as, when she reached the top of the stairs and turned to wait for him to resume the tour. As he opened the first room and gestured her in, she seemed to show off her cleavage to his wide eyes. The top few buttons of her shirt were undone so he saw the upper slopes of her smooth globes and again the outline of pert nipples against the flimsy material. That was when she stumbled, catching her sexy heels on the loose rug then slipping forward across the bare floorboards and into his embrace, as he thrust his body forward to catch her from falling to the floor. And that was when he pounced, fairly sure that her flirting and blatant showing off of her body indicated her desire to have him there and then. He lifted her up and virtually threw her onto the bed, on her back, her legs parting as she lay there. She made a gesture of protest, but it was obvious she wanted fucking, despite their brief exchange of words. And he wasn't going to refuse. Customer service was his forte! He could definitely smell her now. He imagined her bare cunt under that skirt, already oozing juices. He parted her legs, exposing her cunt, naked as anticipated. He was pleased to see she did indeed have a fine bush, the hairs already wet along the vertical slit between her lips. He just had to taste it! 'You smell gorgeous. Bet you taste good too!' He plunged his tongue between her thighs, forcing her legs apart so he could lick right up under her crotch, briefly rimming her asshole then sliding his tongue back under her cunt, across the sopping wet slit, and up to her swelling clit, which he then flicked with the tip of his tongue, side to side, harder, softer, faster, slower, before tracing a figure of eight across her smooth lips and pushing his tongue inside her cunt. She tasted gorgeous. He lapped eagerly. He heard her moan and utter "mmm" and "yes!" He had always loved the taste of a woman, loved to tease and stimulate, feeling her cunt becoming wetter, hearing her moans. He could bring a woman to orgasm with his fingers and tongue. But he knew Lea wanted cock now. He played with her a little more, with his fingers, until they were sticky with her juices. He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked them keenly. He saw from her eyes that she wanted it, but asked her to be sure. Her response left him in no doubt. So he clambered up onto the bed, onto her body, moving up over her, briefly kissing her smooth tummy, exposed as her shirt had ridden up, then biting her nipples through the translucent material. That did the trick. He heard her gasp, felt her arching her body up against his. 'You like that, do you?' She pulled him closer: 'Shut up and keep going!' She quickly undid her top, revealing her bare breasts, magnificent firm orbs peaked by stiff red nipples. She slid the shirt off then reached down to his crotch, urgently unbuttoning the metal fasteners of his jeans. He licked and kissed her tits, causing more moaning and writhing. He felt her hands pulling down his jeans by the waist. Felt his cock springing out, flopping onto her thigh. She must have felt the trace of precum it immediately left on her soft skin and the firmness of the smooth head and long shaft. He slid his shirt over his head and had kicked off his shoes, so he was now naked. She wore only her skirt, pulled up around her waist. He saw her look down at his cock. He was circumcised, so the head was fully exposed, prominently rearing up like some obscene mushroom, the hole in the center of the tip glistening. He saw her lick her lips. His shaft was thick and solid, his balls swollen around the base, framed by his patch of body hair. She smelt him for sure now: not just his sexual aroma but a scent of spunk as he oozed and throbbed above her opening. No question of a condom! She was aching to be fucked and to feel his cum inside her. She had somehow unhooked her skirt and it fell to one side, leaving her nude under him. He continued licking and biting her nipples, occasionally kissing her neck. She was writhing with lust, legs parted ready, arms reaching round his body to pull him into her, clasping her hands on his buttocks to pull him down. His cock was poised over her wet slit now, the head rubbing against her wet lips and swollen clit. Would this stimulation, together with the biting of her nipples, bring her to orgasm before he even entered her? He was aching to thrust into her, to feel his firm cock pushing its way into her wet slit and up inside her. All she had to do was pull him in and let him fuck her. 'Now?' he asked. By jonnicat. For Literotica.

 A Country Inn venture brings Joe some special opportunities. By jonnicat. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe Leman could not prevent his dirty mind getting carried away as he fantasized about the next guest at his Little Country Inn. Lea looked stunning in her profile photo on the booking app: erotic platinum blonde hair, alluring facial features, wicked smile and a look of naughtiness in her eyes. He could be wrong and she might well have zero interest in him, but he had a hunch that she was going to be as wild as she looked. He felt that familiar stirring of his libido as he anticipated her visit.The cottage was the perfect discreet ‘Bed & Breakfast', hidden in the trees, invisible from the lane that led from the distant main road. This was one of the reasons people like Lea booked it for a weekend break. In fact the cottage inn was a former gatehouse at the entrance to an estate. The owner, Joe, had inherited it and decided to turn the small place into a holiday let to help pay for the upkeep of his larger manor, nearby. Joe manages an investment fund and brought in a partner to operate the orchard, on a common sharecropper arrangement. The cottage has been renovated to include the most updated kitchen & bath furnishings, as well as central air. But the structure retains all the eighteen sixty character and charm. It has a master suite and two upstairs smaller bedrooms. The back patio has a hot tub and fire pit. So this hottie, Lea of London, reminded him of a woman he had met and had wine-fuelled sex with, at a travel industry networking event the year before, which took place at a remote old country house that had been adapted as a conference center, an hour north of London. Her name was Gabriella. She was a rep from a tour operator who had been seated next to Joe at the welcome lunch. They had chatted and flirted increasingly shamelessly over endless champagne. She was in her late forties, at least, he guessed. Slim, long straight natural blonde hair, pert boobs, seductive smile and the most luscious pink lips (which she was expert at licking in the most erotic manner). By the mid-afternoon they were tipsy and horny as hell. She had made the first move while they were still at the table. Sliding her arm under the linen tablecloth so that no one else would notice, she had run her fingers up his leg, caressing his inner thighs through the tight trousers of his bespoke suit. As usual he wasn't wearing underwear, so when her fingertips reached his crotch she could easily feel his cock, swollen and pulsing against the tight fabric as she stroked him. She leaned towards him to whisper, 'You're a big boy, aren't you?' To this he had gasped and replied, 'That's the effect you have on me!' She rubbed harder. He tried not to moan out loud. She whispered again, 'Let's take this to the cocktail bar.' He grinned at the way she stressed the syllable "Cock". Joe followed Gabriella out of the dining room to the lounge bar, trying to be discreet by following a few steps behind her, not that he really cared whether anyone else noticed them slipping off to have a drink together. Truth was he wanted to check her out from behind. She wore elegant black heels, a short black skirt (legs bare) and a cobalt blue silk blouse, which during the lunch had been unbuttoned enough to show her generous cleavage, she had seen him ogling and grinned at him. From behind she looked stunning, striding like a catwalk model, flicking her long hair, swishing her waist and showing off her tight buttocks as they strained against the tight material of the obscenely short skirt (no visible panty line, he was pleased to see). Was he mistaken or could he smell her too? Was she wearing knickers? He determined to find out. They sat at high stools in the far corner of the candlelit bar. As she wiggled her way up onto the stool, turning it to face his, her legs parted and he could almost see up her skirt. He could definitely smell her cunt now: a rich aroma of pure sexuality wafting his way. She ordered a gin martini; he had a negroni, served by a discreet barman who knew Joe from a previous visit when Joe had been hosting an event there. At that moment he had an unbidden moment of fantasy, imagining inviting the guy to join him and Gabriella in his room, suspecting (correctly, as he would discover later) that she loved threesomes. Meanwhile, he raised his glass to her and they toasted: 'To pleasure!' As she knocked back her drink he saw her legs part again, revealing a brief glimpse of a tiny white triangle of material, So she was wearing panties! They were as close as they could be, sitting on separate stools. He considered suggesting they move to one of the sofas, but for now they were content to be facing each other, legs touching, eyes locked, smiles hinting the kisses they both yearned to give and receive. How to get her up to his room, or hers? She took the next step again. She looked him right in the eye and said, 'Here's a game. We each guess whether the other is wearing underwear. You go first.' He didn't let on that he had already glimpsed hers. He replied, 'What do I get if I guess correctly?' She gave him her wicked grin, 'If I'm not, I'll lift my skirt and prove it. If I am, I'll take them off and give them to you.' He smiled. 'And what do you get if you guess correctly?' She licked her lips. 'If you're wearing any, go to the gents, take them off and throw them in the bin. If you're not wearing any, unzip your fly and show me here!' He nodded. 'Go on then, you first,' she said. He pretended to try to see up her skirt so she edged her legs together, giggling. He smiled, made a gesture of pondering his guess, then whispered, 'I know by now you're a very naughty girl. I don't think you're knickerless but I bet you're only wearing a tiny thong?' She grinned. 'Good guess. Now I suppose I'll have to take it off and give you a souvenir. But first it's my turn. Are you going commando, I wonder? Hmm, Yes, I bet you are, you wicked man!' He nodded, 'Correct.' She looked at his crotch, 'Go on then, show me!' Joe glanced around the bar. There was nobody watching. Maintaining eye contact with Gabriella, he unzipped his fly, reached one hand in and pulled out his cock, enough for her to see the bare tip and top of the shaft. He was sure she would smell him now, knowing he gave off a strong natural sexual aroma. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. She felt her wetness increase, thinking, My knickers must be soaked! He squeezed his cock back into his pants. 'Your turn.' She nodded. 'Sure, I'll just go to the ladies'. He watched her ass again as she slid from the high stool and sidled off across the room. While she was gone he ordered a bottle of champagne and said to his barman friend to hold it on ice for a few minutes because they might need it sent to his room, or hers. He slipped his friend a generous cash tip as he signed for the order. Moments later Gabriella returned to his side. Before going to her stool she put her hand in his, transferring the tiny sliver of sodden silk to his grip. He felt the wet thong in his palm, glanced down at it and put it in his trouser pocket, then sniffed his fingers approvingly as she watched and giggled. Before she could sit down again he asked, 'Shall we go somewhere more private? I've ordered us some more bubbly, if that's ok?' She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. 'Great idea. Have it sent to my room.' And so, after a mostly liquid lunch and their stimulating fun and games in the public bar, they found themselves in her suite. She immediately pushed him against the wall and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He pulled her close, reaching down to grasp her athletic buttocks which were straining against the tight skirt. Her hands went to his waist, unbuckled his belt. His hands slid up her thighs to clasp her bare cheeks. He felt her hard nipples as her body pressed against his chest. She felt his cock pressed against her lower tummy. His hands squeezed her buttocks and his fingertips slid between them, feeling the wetness oozing from her. Her fingers deftly undid his fly and pulled out his cock as his trousers fell to the floor. He slid a finger inside her lips, into the pink wetness. Moments later, clothing scattered across the lush carpet, they were on the bed, nude. He lay on top of her, pinning her down with his muscular body. His cock was pressed against her stomach. He felt so turned on he could imagine rubbing it against her and quickly coming all over her stomach and breasts, but he knew she would expect more than that and anyway he wanted to fuck her properly. She parted her legs and wrapped them up round his waist. This of course spread her cunt wide open. He looked down, across her flat tummy and smooth mound with its downy triangle above bare lips, split by her wet slit. It was time! He edged his cock down between her thighs and pressed the tip against her lips and up across her clit, which was swollen and ready. She gasped, 'Fuck me!' And then he was in, plunging deep into her slender body, the full length of his shaft easily sliding into her. He moved his head down to kiss her breasts, licking and gently biting her nipples as she moaned and pulled him further into her, grabbing his waist as he plunged deeper. 'Come in me!' she ordered. He felt her body bucking, arching up against him as she gripped his throbbing cock with her powerful cunt muscles, as if she was desperate to cause him to climax. He obeyed, thrusting, hard, soft, in and almost out, then deep again, until he felt that familiar wave of lust, riding through his body and let himself go. With a groan of delight he came deep inside her, spurting powerfully into her willing cunt until he was done, then collapsing onto her, still kissing her breasts, neck, mouth. 'Now lie on your back,' she told him. As he did so, she moved around into the 69 position, kneeling over him, lowering her rear end down over his face and taking his cock between her lips. She licked his cum and her juices from his shaft and lowered herself further. His tongue flicked out to lick her soaking wet slit, tasting her sweet juices and his own cum as it seeped from her. He ran his tongue all along her slit and rimmed her rear hole, causing her to wiggle and push herself further onto his face. Meanwhile she continued sucking his cock dry and playing with his balls, so that before long he was getting hard again. He continued kissing her cunt, sliding his tongue in a figure of eight across her cunt lips, before flicking the tip against her swollen clit, varying the pace and direction. She gasped and shuddered as he continued to stimulate her, sensing the first wave through her body. And then, with a final few licks, he brought her to orgasm. She moaned as she came, juices pouring out of her, into his eager mouth. He lapped greedily. At the same moment she had his cock down her throat, taking the entire stiff shaft and sucking, feeling it swell and throb. Inevitably he came too, shooting into her eager mouth as she swallowed greedily. They didn't leave the room until the next morning, spending the night exploring each other's bodies and trying all manner of positions and techniques. They even fucked in the shower. And when he was spent, they invited the barman to join in, when he delivered another bottle, to feed her appetite for cock and being fucked. She didn't rest until both men had fucked her and left her a trembling wreck on the messy sheets. And that was only the first night. That, Joe had thought, is what I call hospitality networking! Joe's smartphone dinged, waking him from the daydream. The text is from Lea, affirming her arrival in 10 minutes, or so. And now, as he prepared Orchard Cottage, he wondered how this 'Lea' would behave and whether she would be so willing and hungry for sex. He would soon find out, Lea had booked it for a long weekend. As far as he knew she was coming alone, which was unusual but not rare. A single woman down from London, wanting to 'get away from it all', he suspected. From her profile on the booking app he had seen she was an attractive mature woman with long fair hair and a seductive smile. He wondered what she imagined a weekend here would be like. Typically he left his guests alone during their visit, meeting them only once, on their arrival, to show them round and give them the key. But he lived close by in case they needed anything. He could not help wondering whether this solitary woman would want anything he could provide. The cottage was cozy, quiet, isolated. So if a woman wanted to be alone it was the perfect refuge. But if she wanted any company, well, he would be happy to provide any personal service she desired. It wouldn't be the first time he had been invited in to the cottage by guests who found themselves craving some company in this most isolated spot. He still had the pair of knickers the last single woman had left! She was due to arrive any moment. It was late evening on a warm Friday in early summer. Dusk had not yet fallen. The trees cast warm shadows around the cottage. The last rays of sun lit up the small windows. Joe had prepared the fireplace. Guests always wanted a 'real fire' with logs. He had left a complimentary bottle of red wine too. Would she want to drink that on her own? Anyway, he thought, let's see how things go. I'll show her round, let her settle in, make sure she has my number. If she wants to be left alone, fine. Otherwise, anything is possible. It gets chilly at night out here, she might want someone to stoke the fire for her, keep her warm. He felt a thrill of lust as his imagination roved. Having finished preparing the cottage, he was now just outside the door when he heard a car slowing down, turning in from the quiet lane. He stood waiting, dressed in black jeans and a blue denim shirt, untucked. He ran his hand through his hair, smoothed down his shirt and faced towards the lane. An Audi appeared, approached, stopped in front of him. He smiled as he saw the woman through the windscreen. He was pleased to see she was alone. She turned off the engine and stepped out. He took a step towards the car, trying to imagine how he would appear to her. 'Hi, you must be Lea. I'm Joe. Welcome!' He smiled again as she looked him up and down. What was she thinking, feeling? What would she desire? It wouldn't be the first time Joe Leman (his professional persona, though not his real name) had fucked one of his guests. Far from it. In fact he had lost count of how many women he had seduced, or been seduced by, during all his years in the hospitality industry: at business conferences he had hosted, in those identikit hotels where clients relished being away from their partners for a night, invariably drank too much, and ended up fucking each other all night; at Mediterranean holiday resorts, where sex-starved bored wives would take him to their rooms while their husbands were out playing golf; or at the small country house hotel in the New Forest that he had run until recently (in which he still owned a controlling shareholding), where women came for a girls weekend or hiking or riding, all of which made them uncontrollably horny and easy prey for their handsome host. One of his most treasured memories of these numerous encounters was a night spent with Connie; a stunning and filthy executive from some marketing firm that had its annual retreat at a remote country hotel in Hampshire. He had been asked at the last minute to fill in as the hotel's lead facilitator, to make sure the client firm got what they were paying for, in terms of facilities, refreshments, evening entertainment. Connie, a slim fit blonde in her forties, had chatted to Joe in the hotel bar on the first night, having slipped away from her increasingly drunken and boorish colleagues. After draining another cocktail she had fabricated some excuse to get him up to her room, claiming something or other wasn't working and asking him to help her with it. As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them she had snogged him up against the wall, sliding her hand into his trousers, rubbing his bare cock, then stripped him and led him to the king size bed. There she undressed, lay on the bed and insisted that he tie her to the bedframe with his tie, then fuck her while she pretended to resist (not the first woman he had known to want a forced sex fantasy). After he had emptied himself into her she demanded that he turn her over and whip her bottom with his belt. She had squealed with delight, feigned terror at this 'punishment', then insisted on taking his cock into her mouth, expertly licking and sucking him hard until he came again. She had swallowed every drop of his cum, had him untie her, left him her knickers as a souvenir, then rejoined her party at the bar. And now he had inherited the secluded house and its quaint Orchard Cottage which got regular Air b & b bookings. It was usually couples having a dirty weekend, sometimes dirty enough to invite him to join in. Occasionally women craving a romantic escape or meeting their secret lovers; they too would sometimes let themselves be seduced while he helped them settle in or got the fire going. Ah yes, the old fireplace, guaranteed to conjure up the desire to be naked in front of the flames, drinking and fucking through the night. What action that fireside had seen! Joe found that his  6 foot height, dark eyes, chiseled looks, fit body and smart clothes always gave women a good first impression. But he knew his most powerful secret weapon was his sexual aroma. He had learnt early on that he gave off a rather powerful manly scent, strong pheromones and sweat that had a peculiar effect on women. For this reason he never wore aftershave. He showered daily, but never used deodorant, and rarely wore underwear. He kept himself clean and well groomed, sure, but he allowed his body to give off its natural sexual aroma. He trimmed but didn't shave his pubic hair, aware that this too accentuated the sexual attraction by holding the scent around his loins. Sometimes he would even run his hands inside his trousers, up and down the shaft of his cock, between his arse cheeks and around his balls, just to get his musky scent onto his fingers, meaning it would waft around him and make it even more likely that any women he met would unknowingly detect it and find herself sexually stimulated. It usually worked a treat. And now here he was perhaps about to fuck this stunningly attractive guest, Lea (or whatever her name really was? Guests often used an alias. Several female solo guests had either been turned on by his sexual presence, betrayed surely by the bulge in his Levi's, or who was just extremely horny. Perhaps one of those women with an insatiable appetite, a primal lust to fuck and accustomed to getting what she wanted. He had made every effort to stay cool when he first saw her arrive, not to let his eyes pop out like a cartoon fox, or his tongue drool like a lusty hound. Instinctively he must have looked her up and down (he wasn't always subtle) as she stepped from her sleek Audi, taking in her surprisingly high heels, slim legs, a glimpse of stocking top, shockingly short skirt, blatantly transparent blouse, her striking platinum blonde hair and pretty face. She had a look in her eyes too, like a woman with great hunger, used to feeding her wild appetite at will. Joe wondered whether she was really staying alone. Often the person who booked didn't tell him who else was going to accompany them. Lea seemed like she wasn't going to spend the weekend alone: he imagined that she was well capable of giving herself a lot of solitary pleasure (no doubt she enjoyed a wank at least daily, as he did), but equally took the opportunity to use a man whenever she felt like it. Was her lover going to arrive later? Or lovers, plural! But for now it was just the two of them in his cottage. He made the usual fuss of showing her where things were, leading her round the place. A couple of times he caught her checking out his backside or crotch. He kept in shape and had been told he had good legs and a firm well-shaped arse, so he wore jeans that fit him well, accentuating his physique and showing the bulge of his cock. As he gave the tour he admired her too, noticing with delight the erect red nipples straining against her silk shirt, and her shapely legs, leading up under the tiny skirt. The best view was of course when he followed her up the stairs, a few steps behind, just the right distance to see up her skirt (surely she was aware of that!). The curve of her inner thighs led to a shapely double crescent of lower buttocks, unencumbered by panties, as she wiggled her way up the narrow staircase. In fact, was that a glimpse of bush he saw? That was when he was sure he could smell her too: an unmistakable scent of cunt, causing an involuntary licking of his lips and a strong twitching of his cock, now straining against his jeans. He also admired her petite figure and generous boobs as, when she reached the top of the stairs and turned to wait for him to resume the tour. As he opened the first room and gestured her in, she seemed to show off her cleavage to his wide eyes. The top few buttons of her shirt were undone so he saw the upper slopes of her smooth globes and again the outline of pert nipples against the flimsy material. That was when she stumbled, catching her sexy heels on the loose rug then slipping forward across the bare floorboards and into his embrace, as he thrust his body forward to catch her from falling to the floor. And that was when he pounced, fairly sure that her flirting and blatant showing off of her body indicated her desire to have him there and then. He lifted her up and virtually threw her onto the bed, on her back, her legs parting as she lay there. She made a gesture of protest, but it was obvious she wanted fucking, despite their brief exchange of words. And he wasn't going to refuse. Customer service was his forte! He could definitely smell her now. He imagined her bare cunt under that skirt, already oozing juices. He parted her legs, exposing her cunt, naked as anticipated. He was pleased to see she did indeed have a fine bush, the hairs already wet along the vertical slit between her lips. He just had to taste it! 'You smell gorgeous. Bet you taste good too!' He plunged his tongue between her thighs, forcing her legs apart so he could lick right up under her crotch, briefly rimming her asshole then sliding his tongue back under her cunt, across the sopping wet slit, and up to her swelling clit, which he then flicked with the tip of his tongue, side to side, harder, softer, faster, slower, before tracing a figure of eight across her smooth lips and pushing his tongue inside her cunt. She tasted gorgeous. He lapped eagerly. He heard her moan and utter "mmm" and "yes!" He had always loved the taste of a woman, loved to tease and stimulate, feeling her cunt becoming wetter, hearing her moans. He could bring a woman to orgasm with his fingers and tongue. But he knew Lea wanted cock now. He played with her a little more, with his fingers, until they were sticky with her juices. He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked them keenly. He saw from her eyes that she wanted it, but asked her to be sure. Her response left him in no doubt. So he clambered up onto the bed, onto her body, moving up over her, briefly kissing her smooth tummy, exposed as her shirt had ridden up, then biting her nipples through the translucent material. That did the trick. He heard her gasp, felt her arching her body up against his. 'You like that, do you?' She pulled him closer: 'Shut up and keep going!' She quickly undid her top, revealing her bare breasts, magnificent firm orbs peaked by stiff red nipples. She slid the shirt off then reached down to his crotch, urgently unbuttoning the metal fasteners of his jeans. He licked and kissed her tits, causing more moaning and writhing. He felt her hands pulling down his jeans by the waist. Felt his cock springing out, flopping onto her thigh. She must have felt the trace of precum it immediately left on her soft skin and the firmness of the smooth head and long shaft. He slid his shirt over his head and had kicked off his shoes, so he was now naked. She wore only her skirt, pulled up around her waist. He saw her look down at his cock. He was circumcised, so the head was fully exposed, prominently rearing up like some obscene mushroom, the hole in the center of the tip glistening. He saw her lick her lips. His shaft was thick and solid, his balls swollen around the base, framed by his patch of body hair. She smelt him for sure now: not just his sexual aroma but a scent of spunk as he oozed and throbbed above her opening. No question of a condom! She was aching to be fucked and to feel his cum inside her. She had somehow unhooked her skirt and it fell to one side, leaving her nude under him. He continued licking and biting her nipples, occasionally kissing her neck. She was writhing with lust, legs parted ready, arms reaching round his body to pull him into her, clasping her hands on his buttocks to pull him down. His cock was poised over her wet slit now, the head rubbing against her wet lips and swollen clit. Would this stimulation, together with the biting of her nipples, bring her to orgasm before he even entered her? He was aching to thrust into her, to feel his firm cock pushing its way into her wet slit and up inside her. All she had to do was pull him in and let him fuck her. 'Now?' he asked. By jonnicat. For Literotica.

This week Ryan finds himself questioning whether he's being pest-imistic that a 10% reduction in harmful pesticides on UK farms isn't enough.....surely we can be doing better? After sharing some random news about a huge block of ice hanging around outside South Georgia, Nadia tells us all about the new plans for 20 millions trees being planted in the south of England! Show notes: Links to all stories mentioned: Whoppi Iceberg / Pesticides / New Trees! Support us: If you'd like to say "cheers" to the Into The Wild team & help support us with running costs, you can make a one off donation or sign up for a monthly tip on www.ko-fi.com/intothewildpod Chat with us: We're on Instagram & BlueSky or you can chuck us an email at intothewildpod@mail.com. To follow the hosts of the show, Ryan & Nadia, follow them at @mrryanjdalton & @buteblackbird 

Join me as I wade though water, myth and marshy lands in the New Forest!XXX

A brand new series on Radio Maria in which the Dominican Sisters of New Forest looking at the Gospel readings for the Sunday to come and the Catechism passages that speak to it. Each Wednesday morning the Dominican Sisters of St Joseph go deeper into the Gospel reading for the upcoming Sunday by exploring how it is used in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, finding connections in all four sections of the Catechism: the Profession of Faith, the Liturgy and Sacraments, our Life in Christ, and Prayer. Connecting the Gospel to these four dimensions of the Christian life with the help of the Catechism will break open the deepest meaning of the Scriptures for catechists of all age groups, Children's Liturgy leaders, teachers and parents.If you enjoyed this programme, please consider supporting us with a one-off or monthly donation. Visit RadioMariaEngland.uk/donations/ to find out more. It is only through the generosity of our listeners that we are able to be a Christian voice by your side.

Listen every weekday for a local newscast featuring town, county, state and regional headlines. It's the daily dose of news you need on Wyoming, Idaho and the Mountain West — all in four minutes or less. 

Simon LockeCo-OwnerColombia57 Tour, Travel & LogisticsSimon grew up on a dairy farm in the beautiful New Forest, England where he developed a strong love for the countryside and fishing. His adventures in various industries helped him build valuable business skills—starting with Mechanical Engineering at an automotive leader and later launching his own successful startup focused on oak timber frame buildings.During three amazing years of hitchhiking and walking through South America and Asia, Simon discovered his passion for travel. A special moment in Colombia opened his eyes to a fantastic business opportunity. In 2006, he teamed up with co-owners to establish Colombia57. Since then, he has worked hard to develop departments and internal structures while using his creative and friendly communication style to help make the company one of Colombia's top full-service receptive tour operators.summaryIn this episode of the Big World Made Small podcast, Jason Elkins interviews Simon Locke, co-owner of Colombia57, who shares his incredible journey from a farmer's son in Hampshire to a travel entrepreneur in Colombia. Simon discusses his early life, the call to adventure that led him to South America, and the surprising experiences he had in Colombia that changed his perceptions. He reflects on the challenges of running a business in a foreign country, the importance of family support, and the evolution of his company over the years. The conversation highlights the beauty and diversity of Colombia as a travel destination and Simon's passion for sharing it with others.takeawaysSimon Locke's journey began on a farm in Hampshire.He pursued a rock and roll dream before traveling.Traveling was a way to find something different in life.Colombia was a surprising and welcoming destination.Colombia offers a diverse range of experiences.Family support played a crucial role in Simon's journey.The travel industry in Colombia has evolved significantly.Colombia57 focuses on providing tailored travel experiences.Simon emphasizes the importance of personal connections in business.The future of Colombia57 looks promising with ongoing developments. Learn more about Big World Made Small Adventure Travel Marketing and join our private community to get episode updates, special access to our guests, and exclusive adventure travel offers at bigworldmadesmall.com.

Episode Notes Suzy reviews her birding experiences from January 2025, starting with the final week of an epic vacation to Australia! Back in the UK Suzy joined a local RSPB outing and went to the New Forest with the Ladybirder sub-group of the Hampshire Ornithlogical Society (HOS). While in the New Forest Suzy spoke with HOS Chair Keith Betton about his early birding experiences and the success of HOS initiatives to increase the engagement of young people and women birders in the group. Also: news about a new Casual Birder Community! Links Bird lists Take a look at the eBird checklists Suzy made from the locations mentioned: Bruny Island, Tasmania Chook Dam, Tasmania Mount Field National Park, Tasmania Eastrop Park, Basingstoke, Hampshire   Casual Birder Community Find out more about the new Casual Birder Community   Books mentioned in the interview with Keith Betton: Where to Watch Birds in Dorset, Hampshire and the Isle of Wight: 5th Edition Behind the Binoculars: Interviews with acclaimed birdwatchers Behind More Binoculars: Interviews with acclaimed birdwatchers   Podcast buddies mentioned: Hannah - Women Birders Happy Hour Kirsty - Weekend Birder Harry - Podcast Junkies Lance Anderson's GoFundMe   The Casual Birder Bird Club The Casual Birder Bird Club is an online bird club that meets every month.  If meeting up with a group of friendly people from around the world to talk about the birds you've seen sounds like something you'd like to do, you'd be very welcome to join us. Find out more here: The Casual Birder Bird Club   Your bird stories Tell me about your bird stories - contact me on the casualbirder.com website   Support the show If you would like to help support the show's production, by buying a virtual coffee here    Keep in the Loop Sign up here for email notifications of news, blogs and episodes   The Casual Birder Podcast   https://casualbirder.com/ Don't miss an episode - follow the show! My thanks to Randy Braun for designing the artwork for the show and to The Drones for the theme music Short Sleeved Shirt. Check out their website at www.dronesmusic.net  

Welcome back to the Osos den! And what an Osos den this is... A whole new look! For a whole new year! We told yall we were busy.. and by busy we meant since the JFK documents were released.. we started digging up our own theories about what really happened in Dallas back in the 60s.. The Osos are getting comfortable in the new camp ground they found.. what do you think? Let us know! Don't forget to leave a comment, like and hit that SUB button for new episodes Every Thursday! Listen/Follow us: https://linktr.ee/ososgolosospodcast https://www.instagram.com/osos.golosos.podcast Join Our Discord: https://discord.com/invite/beRy7ZSbVz #oso #goloso #podcast #comedy #comedypodcast #texaspodcast #texas #dfw #fortworth #mexican #817 #jfk #newsetup #trump #president #inauguration #trump2024 #documents #declassifieddocuments #chinaai #crypto

In this episode we talk to the New Forest Couple - that's Andrew and Clare. We explore their journey, approach and some of the challenges they've faced along the way. Clare opens up about how and why events and meets can be a struggle and offers some great advice for anyone with a disability looking to join the lifestyle. This is an open and honest conversation that you will not want to miss. Thanks for hopping into our bed! Handy links Find out about The New Forest Couple by heading to Swinghub and searching 'Thenewforestcouple'. Join our Patreon and listen to episodes before anyone else by heading here: https://www.patreon.com/bedhoppersuk  Don't forget to leave us a review! iTunes would be a great place to do just that - here's a link to our show: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/bed-hoppers-swinging-in-the-uk/id1361366390  

Get ready to indulge your love for all things Eurovision with The Eurovision Showcase! Hosted by the charismatic Ciaran Urry-Tuttiett, this weekly show is your ultimate guide to the world of the Eurovision Song Contest. Find our more about the show here: https://www.escshowcase.com  Airing every Sunday at 5 PM UK Time (6 PM CET) on Forest FM, Ciaran takes you on a musical journey through Eurovision history, playing timeless classics, modern hits, and hidden gems from across the contest's storied past. Whether you're a lifelong Eurovision fan or a newcomer eager to discover the magic, this show is packed with energy, trivia, and plenty of surprises. Tune in on 92.3 & 98.9 FM across East Dorset, West Hampshire, and The New Forest, or listen online at www.forestfm.co.uk. You can also join the fun on your smart speaker—just ask it to "Play Forest FM" or use the Alexa skill "Forest FM." Don't miss out on this celebration of Europe's favourite musical extravaganza!

Episode 516 – The Source of Pain   Today we have Hattie. She is 34 years old from South London, UK, and she took her last drink on April 25th, 2021.   Sponsors for this episode include:   Better Help – 10% off your first month   Sober Link - get a promo code for $50 off of the device.   Registration is open for Recovery Elevator's first ever Men's Retreat will be April 5th through the 12th in Costa Rica. We've got space for 12 guys.   Café RE is THE social app for sober people. If you are struggling to meet people who no longer drink alcohol, then this community app is for you. Yes, it is mostly online, but we've got a bunch of in-person meetups on the calendar.   [03:57] Thoughts from Paul:   Ask the Magic 8 Ball “is alcohol the primary source of my pain?” and the responses will be “it is certain” “it is decidedly so” “without a doubt” and “yes, definitely”.   Of course, alcohol is causing the pain. It's the most destructive and addictive substance on the planet and for some strange reason it's still in our face daily with advertising everywhere.   You want to start viewing alcohol similarly to how you would look at a moldy, half-eaten hoagie sandwich on a park bench: you wouldn't touch that sandwich, let alone eat it. The tricky part is that our addiction lies to us in our own voice and do it's best to convince you that alcohol is the source of relief rather than pain. Which it can be at first, but inevitably that doesn't last long.   But your life is not over when you quit drinking. A better chapter is just beginning.   [09:24] Paul introduces Hattie:   Hattie grew up in a place called New Forest where there are wild ponies and pigs. She now lives in London with her husband and two young children. Hattie works in sustainability and also has set up Sober Happy Free on Instagram and TikTok sharing her story around sobriety.   Hattie says she took her first drink at 14. Her alcohol seeking behavior began quickly thereafter. She says alcohol helped her with confidence and feeling comfortable with herself. Drinking was more of a need than a want, she says. She says at this age it was easy to consider the drinking normal but knew that drinking alone or secretly would be a problem.   When Hattie was around 26, she was introduced to cocaine which allowed her to drink more and drink longer. Hattie says she did not have any authentic connections with people at this time. There was not a corner of her life that alcohol didn't touch.   Even once getting pregnant, which she and her husband were trying to do, she looked at the test and wondered “how on earth am I not going to drink?” Hattie made it through the pregnancy but was drinking as soon as she could after and says she was right back where she started.   Seeing a lot of people talking about Dry January online inspired Hattie to give it a try. She continued after the month ended, but never planned to quit entirely and was planning dates that she would allow herself to drink. Hattie got a sobriety coach and ended up not drinking for four months. The day that she decided to have a drink, she found herself on the phone with a friend who was in AA saying she couldn't do it anymore.   Hattie joined AA and found community. She still stays involved in it now at over three years sober. She has a sponsor, and they worked through the 12 steps together. Hattie's advice around AA is to go into it with an open mind.   For Hattie, year one was about changing her lifestyle. Year two was more about discovery as she tried new hobbies and experiences. Hattie says year three has been about giving back to the community by way of chairing meetings and starting her sober social media accounts. She is passionate about breaking the stigma of alcohol abuse.   Hattie's parting piece of guidance:  If alcohol is dominating your life or playing a negative role in it, the best thing you can do is get sober.   Recovery Elevator You took the elevator down, you've gotta take the stairs back up. We can do this.   RE merch Recovery Elevator YouTube Sobriety Tracker iTunes       

Folktales around the fire, gooding & mumping and the terrifying Hooden Horse are just some of England's winter folk traditions from history. In this episode, Dan explores the unlikely and often dark origins of some of our Christmas traditions that can be traced back thousands of years. He's joined by folklore historian Vikki Bramshaw, to discover what midwinter legends were brought over with the Anglo-Saxon invasion, the origins of the Yule log and some of the unusual ways people passed the long nights in rural England (fortune-telling chestnuts).He also explores the New Forest, Hampshire, with local historian Richard Reeves to find out more about how medieval people survived the cold winters in the woods.You can discover more in Vikki's book 'New Forest Folklore, Traditions and Charms'.This is episode 4 of our 'Origins of Christmas' series. This December, Dan explores the history behind our Christmas traditions—from extravagant Tudor feasts and carolling to midwinter Solstice celebrations, the bawdy entertainment of the Georgians, and the family-focused customs of the Victorians.Produced by Mariana Des Forges.Sign up to History Hit for hundreds of hours of original documentaries, with a new release every week and ad-free podcasts. Sign up at https://www.historyhit.com/subscribe.  

Chris Hull, one of the stars of BBC One's Garden Rescue, is a rising gardening star, working with Charlie Dimmock and Alan Titchmarsh as the new face of garden makeovers.He got his first gardening job was when he was 15 at a country house hotel in Devon, and studied at Duchy College and for a garden design degree at Sparsholt College. Hull believes schools' thinking about horticulture as a trade is moving on from being somewhere where students are funnelled when they're "not doing so well" into being seen as a worthwhile career which generates billions of pounds for the country. He sees clear pathways through diploma or a degree or RHS courses for everyone.The Garden Rescue job came about through an advert at the Society of Garden Designers "and I thought why not?" He's just finished filming season 10 for broadcast in May 2025.He says long-time presenter Charlie Dimmock is "really, really amazing because she's just really fun and just knows everything". He's also been filming with her former Groundforce co-star Alan Titchmarsh on Love Your Weekend but can't choose who he prefers, joking: "I'll have one of them hitting me over the head with a shovel!"His inspiration for TV designs comes from the strong briefs he is given, for instance for someone with a disability who has not got great access into the garden: "We're making gardens on a real budget, and you've got to be creative with a way that you use very cheap materials to still deliver like quite interesting and bespoke design. So it's hard, but it's good fun, and hopefully it teaches people at home different ideas and how they can use materials."Hull recognises the show "can get a bit of hate from the landscapers in the industry because they believe it's misleading, which I understand. But the client's budget paid for by the BBC is £6,000 for materials only, with labour not included. There's a disclaimer, which he recognises is sometimes missed.He worked with Sid Hill and won a gold at Chelsea in 2024 on a garden, having been friends since they were about 14. Managing budgets with London logistics was tough but the experience was "really, really fun overall".Hull has no plans for another show garden but if he does another he'd like to make a mental health-themed garden because his father is a paranoid schizophrenic and an ambassador for the Rethink Mental Illness charity which works to break down the stigma around mental illness. Other industry experience includes working with JPL Landscape Architects and also Agrumi, on the nursery, and helping at 2021 Chelsea Flower Show when the Hampshire business exhibited with a New Forest theme.Looking ahead, with primetime garden makeover shows such as Love Your Garden no longer on, "there's probably a gap in the market. Garden Rescue remains well liked because everybody adores Charlie and it shows people how to do projects on a budget...and also it's quite lighthearted."What's really good about garden makeover shows generally, like a lot of the home 'reno' shows, is that they're quite repeatable. So I think they're always going to be picked up and kept on TV. I think there should be more to come. Any newer ones might move in more of a direction of maybe they're recycled gardens or upcycling or more sustainability-focused." Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For this week's Haunting Season-themed Local Legends episode, the final of the four, Martin gathers round the Three Ravens campfire with folklorist Brice Stratford to chat all about his new book Halloween Folklore and Ghost Stories.This new collection is Brice's third book, following his first collection, Anglo Saxon Folklore: The Struggle for the Saxon Kingdoms, and New Forest Myths and Folklore, both of which were published in 2022.A storyteller, historian, actor and theatre director, Brice writes on heritage, art and architectural history for Apollo Magazine, the Spectator, and various trade publications, and for 12 years he ran the award-winning Owle Schreame theatre company which is currently on hiatus.Born and raised in the New Forest, he started his journey into folklore in the New Forest area of Southern England, engaging in folklore collecting and plenty of deep-dive research – skills which he brought to bear for his new Halloween Folklore and Ghost Stories collection.In August of this year Brice also launched a podcast, Finding Folklore, a storytelling series through which Brice and his co-host James Carney explore the legends, fairytales, ghost stories, songs and traditions of old England, with each Finding Folklore podcast episode also coming with a companion video on YouTube which expands on the themes and ideas of the main podcast episode.For now though, settle in for a chat which encompasses Halloween's origins, 'Blood Month' traditions, pig-faced spectral brides, Charles Dickens, the stunning Sedlec Ossuary and much more.To learn more about Brice, do follow him on social media, we hope you enjoy the episode, and we'll be back on Monday with our first County Episode for a while, all about Cambridgeshire!The Three Ravens is an English Myth and Folklore podcast hosted by award-winning writers Martin Vaux and Eleanor Conlon.Released on Mondays, each weekly episode focuses on one of England's 39 historic counties, exploring the history, folklore and traditions of the area, from ghosts and mermaids to mythical monsters, half-forgotten heroes, bloody legends, and much, much more. Then, and most importantly, the pair take turns to tell a new version of an ancient story from that county - all before discussing what that tale might mean, where it might have come from, and the truths it reveals about England's hidden past...Bonus Episodes are released on Thursdays (Magic and Medicines about folk remedies and arcane spells, Three Ravens Bestiary about cryptids and mythical creatures, Dying Arts about endangered heritage crafts, and Something Wicked about folkloric true crime from across history) plus Local Legends episodes on Saturdays - interviews with acclaimed authors, folklorists, podcasters and historians with unique perspectives on that week's county.With a range of exclusive content on Patreon, too, including audio ghost tours, the Three Ravens Newsletter, and monthly Three Ravens Film Club episodes about folk horror films from across the decades, why not join us around the campfire and listen in?Learn more at www.threeravenspodcast.com, join our Patreon at www.patreon.com/threeravenspodcast, and find links to our social media channels here: https://linktr.ee/threeravenspodcast Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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Today on Beating Cancer Daily, Saranne discovers a unique and nature-integrated strategy for boosting well-being during and after cancer treatments: forest bathing. On vacation in the Adirondacks, Saranne uncovers the Japanese practice of Shinrin-Yoku, or forest bathing, transcending simple outdoor excursions by offering a holistic multi-sensory experience. As a Stage IV cancer survivor, Saranne shares her amazement and the scientifically backed benefits of this practice, emphasizing its potential to improve sleep quality, mood, focus, and stress levels—all crucial for those undergoing or recovering from cancer treatment. "Can you imagine beyond the leaves, beyond the trees, beyond birds, and beyond just breathing in clean, fresh air? This is a multi-sensory exploration of the forest." ~Saranne Today on Beating Cancer Daily: ·     Exploring the Japanese practice of forest bathing, also known as Shinrin-yoku·     The scientifically backed benefits of connecting deeply with nature·     How to engage in forest bathing using all five senses·     The importance of a digital detox to enhance the forest bathing experience·     Potential physical health benefits like reducing blood pressure and boosting the immune system·     Respecting safety guidelines, such as not forest bathing alone during cancer treatment·     The emotional and psychological healing from forest bathing·     Practical steps to find certified forest bathing programs nearby Resources Mentioned: ·     JapanTravel.com (source for detailed guides on Shinrin-yoku)·     National Geographic (highlighting the Adirondacks as a top forest bathing location)·     The book "Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness" by Dr. Qing Li  The #1 Rated Cancer Survivor Podcast by FeedSpot and Ranked the Top 5 Best Cancer Podcast by CancerCare News, Beating Cancer Daily is listened to in more than 91 countries on 6 continents and has over 300 original daily episodes hosted by stage IV survivor Saranne Rothberg!   Are you wondering How You Can Support Beating Cancer Daily and ComedyCures.org? By becoming a supporter of ComedyCures.org, you'll help us continue our essential programs and research. Your generosity will significantly impact cancer patients, caregivers, doctors, nurses, and researchers worldwide. Choose your level of support: • Supporter: $50 (or $5 per month)• Friend: $150 (or $15 per month)• Champion: $500 (or $50 per month)• VIP: $5,000 annually Donate Herehttps://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=GDPQCM8PHJT

The Mark Twain National Forest encompasses more than 1.5 million acres in central and southern Missouri. Managing that vast wilderness for both conservation and recreation is a large task that takes a team of U.S. Forest Service employees in seven district offices. Vince Keeler was recently appointed as the supervisor and discusses his background, goals for the forest, and how he intends to make Missouri home.

Contrary to popular belief, Robin Hood may not have been the merry medieval outlaw of Sherwood Forest. Rather, a look at real historical figures who inspired the legend are narrowed down to the most unlikely suspect: an Anglo-Saxon hitman who may have assassinated the King of England.Today's guest, Peter Staveley, proposes that Robin Hood lived during the time of William II (near the time of the Norman conquest of England in 1066), rather than Richard I and Prince John of the late 1100s. He argues that Robin was responsible for the death of William II, also known as Rufus, in what was long considered a hunting accident in the New Forest in 1100. This act conveniently paved the way for William's brother to ascend the throne as Henry I. Staveley places Robin deep within the geography of South Yorkshire, with strong ties to historic Hallamshire, Loxley, Bradfield, and Ecclesfield, challenging the traditional narrative and the long-held association with Nottingham.We explore how Yorkshire, particularly Sheffield, might reclaim the legacy of Robin Hood from Nottingham and reveal the true, rougher man behind the legend.Staveley is author of “Robin Unhooded, And the Death of a King.”

We don't know much about what happens to the soul after it departs the fleshy vessel that held it upon this Earth, but we know that each and every person leaves behind some magic. They leave behind stories, memories, and loved ones. In honor of ones passing, loved ones will write obituaries that detail the life of the one now gone.  In this episode, we've selected some very witchy obituaries to read. Rest in Peace to some very magical souls, we're grateful to have been touched by your energy and your life, even if it was in death.  Holly McCray Blair (1948- 2020) exploded into Glitter and bats on August 17, 2020. Eva Mondon (1941 - 2023) loved to hand out her card which read, “storytelling - matchmaking, advice sought and unsought, advisor to the lifelorn, word of mouth.” Sybil Leek (1917- 1982) was an “ordinary witch from the New Forest in England,” but she was anything but ordinary and is best known for her book, Diary of a Witch. Raymond Brownley (1931 - 2014), his larger than life persona and trademark stubbornness will not be forgotten, nor will his “life-long ménage a trois with his homemade chili and Gas-X.” Mother Fisher died at nearly 90 years old in 1888 and was known far and wide for her powers. Colin Fry (1962 - 2015) had his first paranormal encounter at a very young age and grew up to become an English television medium and psychic with a powerful spirit guide named Magnus.  Book Mentioned: New York Times Book of the Dead Diary of a Witch - by Sybil Leek Thanks to Tik Tok for some assistance in finding some of these obituaries. Have ghost stories of your own? E-mail them to us at twogirlsoneghostpodcast@gmail.com This episode is sponsored by Honeylove, Nutrafol and Factor. Treat yourself to the best bras and shapewear on the market and save 20% Off at honeylove.com/TGOG. Take the first step to visibly thicker, healthier hair. For a limited time, Nutrafol is offering our listeners $10 your first month's subscription and free shipping when you go to Nutrafol.com and enter the promo code TGOG Factor's fresh, never frozen meals are dietitian-approved and ready to eat in just 2 minutes–so no matter how busy you are, you'll always have time to enjoy nutritious, great-tasting meals. Head to Factormeals.com/tgog50 and use code tgog50 to get 50% off your first box plus 20% off your next month.  If you enjoy our show, please consider joining our Patreon, rating and reviewing on iTunes & Spotify and following us on social media! Youtube, Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and Discord. Edited and produced by Jaimi Ryan, original music by Arms Akimbo! Disclaimer: the use of white sage and smudging is a closed practice. If you're looking to cleanse your space, here are some great alternatives!

Rerun: William II, son of William The Conqueror, took a hunting trip to the New Forest on 2nd August, 1100 - and was shot dead by an arrow, which punctured his lung.  But, whodunnit? Chroniclers laid the blame at the door of Walter Tirel, who quickly fled to France. But could it have really been fratricide, orchestrated by William's younger brother Henry? In this episode, Rebecca, Olly and Arion weigh up the suspects; review William's ‘addiction to sodomy', and unearth other undignified Royal deaths from history... Further Reading: • ‘Horrible Histories' do William's death (BBC, 2011): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DalHBbf7f8 • William's biography at Historic UK: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofEngland/William-Rufus/ • The Death of William II (Reading Museum, 2017): https://www.readingmuseum.org.uk/blog/death-william-ii ‘Why am I hearing a rerun?' Each Thursday and Friday we repeat stories from our archive of 800+ episodes, so we can maintain the quality of our independent podcast and bring you fresh, free content every Monday-Wednesday…  … But

On today's episode Max Hayes is joined by Newcastle United podcast host Andrew Musgrove, to discuss the transfer of Elliot Anderson from Newcastle to Nottingham Forest. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kate Graeme is the new President of Forest and Bird - the first woman to hold the role in its 101 year history. 

Max Hayes is joined by author Ben Dobson who's recently released ‘Too Good to be Forgotten: 3 wise men from the football's golden era'. Ben discusses the book & working with Forest legends including Tony Woodcock & John McGovern. Buy the book: Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On this week's episode of Local Legends, Martin gathers round the campfire with the author of Hampshire and Isle of Wight Folk Tales Mike O'Leary.Mike has been a professional storyteller since 1995, and across the last almost 30 years has developed a real expertise in the folklore of Hampshire.Based in Southampton, a city which he's studied academically, as a Geographer, Mike has led a rich life that has seen him travel, live, and work, all over the UK.He's written several books, including Hampshire and Isle of Wight Folk Tales, Hampshire and Isle of Wight Ghost Tales, Hampshire Folk Tales for Children, Sussex Folk Tales, and The Pilgrimage of the Piltdown Man. But his career started out in nature. Having spent his early life in Scotland and several years in Bristol, he worked as a professional gardener and spent lots of time in some of England's wilder places, including the New Forest, which he knows particularly well. Later in life he then qualified to become a primary school teacher, while also telling stories to audiences of all ages and in a dizzying array of places, including in the sea, neck deep in the drink!One of the special things about Mike's storytelling style is that he likes to play tunes on his walking stick flute, a wonderful prop and instrument, but, as anyone who has read his books will tell you, his voice has wit and humour whether in person or on the page.So settle in for an hour of chat with a storyteller who knows Hampshire's stories as well as anyone, from knights and giants to ghosts to those ever elusive white deer...Learn more about Mike and his work here: https://www.facebook.com/MikeOLearystorytellerThe Three Ravens is an English Myth and Folklore podcast hosted by award-winning writers Martin Vaux and Eleanor Conlon.Released on Mondays, each weekly episode focuses on one of England's 39 historic counties, exploring the history, folklore and traditions of the area, from ghosts and mermaids to mythical monsters, half-forgotten heroes, bloody legends, and much, much more. Then, and most importantly, the pair take turns to tell a new version of an ancient story from that county - all before discussing what that tale might mean, where it might have come from, and the truths it reveals about England's hidden past...Bonus Episodes are released on Thursdays (Magic and Medicines about folk remedies and arcane spells, Three Ravens Bestiary about cryptids and mythical creatures, Dying Arts about endangered heritage crafts, and Something Wicked about folkloric true crime from across history) plus Local Legends episodes on Saturdays - interviews with acclaimed authors, folklorists, podcasters and historians with unique perspectives on that week's county.With a range of exclusive content on Patreon too, including audio ghost tours, the Three Ravens Newsletter, and monthly Three Ravens Film Club episodes about folk horror films from across the decades, why not join us around the campfire and listen in?Learn more at www.threeravenspodcast.com, join our Patreon at www.patreon.com/threeravenspodcast, and find links to our social media channels here: https://linktr.ee/threeravenspodcast Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

On this week's episode we're headed back to Hampshire, and Eleanor is telling her take on The Wherwell Cockatrice!We start off discussing St Melangell and her abbey filled with wild animals, after which we head to Hampshire.In addition to chatting about the New Forest and some of the many magical and witchy goings on associated with it, plus some spooky goings on in Hampshire places like Palace House and Glasshayes House, we then discuss a very strange County Dish - the 'Hampshire Goose.' Which has nothing to do with geese at all.After some folkloric chat about topics including the famous cunning woman Sally Leek, a very lazy fairy called Laurence, and the adventures of Sir Bevis of Hampton, plus some excerpts from this week's Local Legends interview with author of Hampshire Folk Tales Mike O'Leary, it's onto the main event: Eleanor's telling of "The Wherwell Cockatrice."Speak to you again on Thursday for our new Three Ravens Bestiary bonus episode all about Goblins, and our Film Club episode for May where we'll be discussing The Wicker Man!Speak to you again on Thursday for our new Magic and Medicines bonus episode all about Amulets!The Three Ravens is an English Myth and Folklore podcast hosted by award-winning writers Martin Vaux and Eleanor Conlon.Released on Mondays, each weekly episode focuses on one of England's 39 historic counties, exploring the history, folklore and traditions of the area, from ghosts and mermaids to mythical monsters, half-forgotten heroes, bloody legends, and much, much more. Then, and most importantly, the pair take turns to tell a new version of an ancient story from that county - all before discussing what that tale might mean, where it might have come from, and the truths it reveals about England's hidden past...Bonus Episodes are released on Thursdays (Magic and Medicines about folk remedies and arcane spells, Three Ravens Bestiary about cryptids and mythical creatures, Dying Arts about endangered heritage crafts, and Something Wicked about folkloric true crime from across history) plus Local Legends episodes on Saturdays - interviews with acclaimed authors, folklorists, podcasters and historians with unique perspectives on that week's county.With a range of exclusive content on Patreon, too, including audio ghost tours, the Three Ravens Newsletter, and monthly Three Ravens Film Club episodes about folk horror films from across the decades, why not join us around the campfire and listen in?Learn more at www.threeravenspodcast.com, join our Patreon at www.patreon.com/threeravenspodcast, and find links to our social media channels here: https://linktr.ee/threeravenspodcast Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The Children of the New Forest is a children's novel published in 1847 by Frederick Marryat. It is set in the time of the English Civil War and the Commonwealth. The story follows the fortunes of the four Beverley children who are orphaned during the war, and hide from their Roundhead oppressors in the shelter of the New Forest where they learn to live off the land.The story begins in 1647 when King Charles I has been defeated in the civil war and has fled from London towards the New Forest. Parliamentary soldiers have been sent to search the forest and decide to burn Arnwood, the house of Colonel Beverley, a Cavalier officer killed at the Battle of Naseby. The four orphan children of the house, Edward, Humphrey, Alice and Edith, are believed to have died in the flames. However, they are saved by Jacob Armitage, a local gamekeeper, who hides them in his isolated cottage acting as his grandchildren.Under Armitage's guidance, the children adapt from an aristocratic lifestyle to that of simple foresters. After Armitage's death, Edward takes charge and the children develop and expand the farmstead, aided by the entrepreneurial spirit of the younger brother Humphrey. They are assisted by a gypsy boy, Pablo, who they rescue from a pitfall trap. A sub-plot involves a hostile Puritan gamekeeper named Corbould who seeks to harm Edward and his family. Edward also encounters the sympathetic Puritan, Heatherstone, placed in charge of the Royal land in the New Forest, and rescues his daughter, Patience, in a house-fire. Edward leaves the cottage and works as a secretary for Heatherstone, but Edward maintains the pretence that he is the grandson of Jacob Armitage. (From Wikipedia.)Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

The Children of the New Forest is a children's novel published in 1847 by Frederick Marryat. It is set in the time of the English Civil War and the Commonwealth. The story follows the fortunes of the four Beverley children who are orphaned during the war, and hide from their Roundhead oppressors in the shelter of the New Forest where they learn to live off the land.The story begins in 1647 when King Charles I has been defeated in the civil war and has fled from London towards the New Forest. Parliamentary soldiers have been sent to search the forest and decide to burn Arnwood, the house of Colonel Beverley, a Cavalier officer killed at the Battle of Naseby. The four orphan children of the house, Edward, Humphrey, Alice and Edith, are believed to have died in the flames. However, they are saved by Jacob Armitage, a local gamekeeper, who hides them in his isolated cottage acting as his grandchildren.Under Armitage's guidance, the children adapt from an aristocratic lifestyle to that of simple foresters. After Armitage's death, Edward takes charge and the children develop and expand the farmstead, aided by the entrepreneurial spirit of the younger brother Humphrey. They are assisted by a gypsy boy, Pablo, who they rescue from a pitfall trap. A sub-plot involves a hostile Puritan gamekeeper named Corbould who seeks to harm Edward and his family. Edward also encounters the sympathetic Puritan, Heatherstone, placed in charge of the Royal land in the New Forest, and rescues his daughter, Patience, in a house-fire. Edward leaves the cottage and works as a secretary for Heatherstone, but Edward maintains the pretence that he is the grandson of Jacob Armitage. (From Wikipedia.)Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

The Children of the New Forest is a children's novel published in 1847 by Frederick Marryat. It is set in the time of the English Civil War and the Commonwealth. The story follows the fortunes of the four Beverley children who are orphaned during the war, and hide from their Roundhead oppressors in the shelter of the New Forest where they learn to live off the land.The story begins in 1647 when King Charles I has been defeated in the civil war and has fled from London towards the New Forest. Parliamentary soldiers have been sent to search the forest and decide to burn Arnwood, the house of Colonel Beverley, a Cavalier officer killed at the Battle of Naseby. The four orphan children of the house, Edward, Humphrey, Alice and Edith, are believed to have died in the flames. However, they are saved by Jacob Armitage, a local gamekeeper, who hides them in his isolated cottage acting as his grandchildren.Under Armitage's guidance, the children adapt from an aristocratic lifestyle to that of simple foresters. After Armitage's death, Edward takes charge and the children develop and expand the farmstead, aided by the entrepreneurial spirit of the younger brother Humphrey. They are assisted by a gypsy boy, Pablo, who they rescue from a pitfall trap. A sub-plot involves a hostile Puritan gamekeeper named Corbould who seeks to harm Edward and his family. Edward also encounters the sympathetic Puritan, Heatherstone, placed in charge of the Royal land in the New Forest, and rescues his daughter, Patience, in a house-fire. Edward leaves the cottage and works as a secretary for Heatherstone, but Edward maintains the pretence that he is the grandson of Jacob Armitage. (From Wikipedia.)Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

It's the Season 11 finale and to celebrate we've got a cosmic treat for you as we rocket into the mesmerising realm of space with the legendary British astronaut Tim Peake. A Space Destination Special, if you will - though we do cover some destinations here on planet earth, too, of course!Tim honed his skills as a test pilot and helicopter pilot in the British Army Air Corps. After nearly 18 years of military service, he spotted an ad from the European Space Agency (ESA) to become an astronaut. After a rigorous selection process with over 8,000 hopefuls, Tim was chosen as one of ESA's astronauts in 2009, marking the beginning of his journey to the stars.Fast forward to 2015, and Tim's dream of spaceflight became a reality as he launched aboard a spacecraft to the International Space Station (ISS). During his six-month mission he conducted over 250 scientific experiments and became the first British astronaut in history to perform a spacewalk.It's not every day that you get the opportunity to interview an astronaut, and there was so much I wanted to ask Tim, specifically about space, that I've cut down the chapters format this week, we're going through the five chapters of his travel diaries. This was one of the most fascinating interviews I've had the pleasure of hosting on the podcast. Among many things we cover the claustrophobic Subterranean cave training in Sardinia that prepared him for life on the space station, we deep dive into his take on the existence of extra terrestrial life, he shares his views on the future of space tourism, and the innovations that are just around the corner taking place on the space station that could revolutionise healthcare, but most interesting I found was his view of the earth and how that in turn has fuelled his wanderlust. I really hope you enjoy this one. Destination Recap: Briançon, South of France Sardinia, Italy Alaska, USAPrince William Sound, Alaska, USADenali National Park, Alaska, USAInternational Space StationSahara DesertPatagoniaMadagascar BahamasSpaceNepalIndonesia Fancy seeing Tim live? He is heading on tour with his show Astronauts: The Quest To Explore Space which will bring the awe and wonder of space travel past, present and future to 25 venues across England, Scotland and Wales this autumn.As thank you to you my lovely listeners, I have one more rather epic competition for you to enter. This is to win a stay at one of the most iconic British hotels, Chewton Glen Hotel & Spa in the beautiful New Forest in England. Head over to my Instagram @hollyrubenstein to find out how to win an irresistible Eat, Sleep, Retreat overnight stay with a spa treatment, lunch, three course dinner, and breakfast the next morning. I'm so excited for this one, good luck.With thanks to my sponsors today - Airbnb - Visit Airbnb.com and find out more. Prospective Hosts can learn more about how much they can earn sharing their space through the What's My Place Worth Tool. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This episode is sponsored by Lodgify, an all-in-one solution that will help you start, manage, and grow your short-term rental business. > Click here to visit Lodgify.com to start your free trial today Today's guest is on a mission to solve industry- wide problems that few others are prepared to trial. She says it's for good reason – because they aren't easy. Undeterred (or just belligerent) Rachel rolls her sleeves up, weighs stinky bins, asks a lot of questions, raises funds and collaborates across the industry to create change. It's a great story. In 2011, with a very small baby in tow, Rachel started renting her cottage. She ran it for 4 years before she set up New Forest Escapes, partly with the goal of encouraging more people to holiday in the UK, reducing travel emissions and making UK holidays an alternative to overseas family travel. Her experience in sustainable projects and travel over the years makes her uniquely suitable to be leading the way in greener tourism.  We hear how and why she went down the route of gaining B-Corp certification and what she is doing now to ensure those who stay in her properties benefit from the work she's done. The whole conversation about sustainability is so relevant to the work we're doing on our THRIVE training system.  In the module on Responsibility there's a lesson on Environmental Responsibilities, and now I can put the New Forest Escapes website into the Resources section and include information on B-Corp Certification. This is the joy of continuous learning - that it never stops evolving as we come across new things to share.  If you are interested in finding out more about THRIVE, just check below. In the episode, Rachel shares: Her journey into sustainable rentals Why you shouldn't mention the ‘S' word & the better alternatives What goes into B-Corp certification A simple furniture change that will wow your guests (and their feathered friends) How weighing stinky bins can help change minds Simple things that make a real difference Ways to help guests get greener   Links: New Forest Escapes B-Corp Certification Intrepid Travel Exodus Travels Pura Aventura Much Better Adventures Sawday's THRIVE  ___________________________________________________________________________ Discover the THRIVE Training System and attend an information session to get your questions answered about our foundational team training: https://thrive.vacationrentalformula.com/thrive-live-webinar Are you listening to this podcast on the move? Get to the show notes here: https://www.vacationrentalformula.com/VRS555

On this episode of YOUR WORLD OF CREATIVITY, welcome singer-songwriter Victoria Simmonds.Victoria's Website @officialvictoria_music on Instagram Victoria's Facebook page Victoria's Musical Journey: From performing in theater and cabaret acts to discovering and creating her own music, Victoria shares her evolution as an artist, driven by her passion for creativity.The Inspiration Behind "Let's Do Happy": Victoria discusses the irony and relevance of her debut album's title, reflecting on its origins and the impact of her music during challenging times like the COVID-19 pandemic.Recognition by BBC Introducing Solent: Victoria recounts the excitement of having one of her songs featured on BBC Introducing Solent, highlighting the importance of platforms that support local talent.Influences and Musical Style: Victoria shares her eclectic influences, from Neil Diamond to Spice Girls, and describes her music as a personal expression across various genres and styles.Future Projects and Collaborations: With new collaborations on the horizon and plans for festivals and competitions, Victoria gives insight into her upcoming projects and musical endeavors.Highlight Quote from Victoria: "When you enjoy creating things, you want to try all sorts of different methods... my own music ends up being a very personal expression through creativity."Victoria Simmonds is a local independent pop/ alt-rock singer-songwriter. Having been raised in both the New Forest and Western France she has benefited from a wide variety of musical styles. Her passion for music has always been strong. After performing in musical theatre and cabaret acts she started her journey to discovering her own music. In 2021 she released her first album “Let's do Happy” and since then has continued to release new and meaningful songs, one of which was recognised by BBC Introducing Solent in 2023 and performed at gigs, concerts and festivals. During her career she has amazed audiences across Europe including France, Cyprus, Germany, Belgium and Mallorca with her powerful tones.