Chris Wyatt's Patterdale Hall, as seen from above.
The Patterdale Hall Diaries | It’s the start that’s difficult
- Published: May 21, 2026
By Chris Wyatt
April 5, 2026
It is Easter Sunday today and it has turned chilly. Back in the UK, Easter usually meant roast lamb for dinner, and so I shall drive up to Springfield in a bit to see if Meijer has any. They usually do. Roast lamb, cauliflower in mustard sauce, roast potatoes, carrots, garden peas, gravy and bread sauce should keep the family happy.
Jobs at the Hall are beginning to accumulate and I am procrastinating. The kitchen needs a major spring clean, as it has not overwintered well. In addition, vegetable beds need weeding, young honeysuckle needs pulling/killing, grass needs mowing and things just really need sprucing up a bit. It was a hard winter, but I enjoyed it. Now, it’s time to put in some labor.
We did end up having a roast lamb dinner and it was lovely.
April 10, 2026
I have the luxury of writing. I have the time to write. I am not working multiple jobs, and raising children in poverty. Writing doesn’t pay. Well sometimes it does, I do know a writer that might be doing OK, but just OK. Mostly, my friends who write are doing it because they have to. While not exorcising ghosts, most use writing to express deep feelings and make something bright and interesting.
I’m not doing that.
I’m writing a diary that one day my children might find interesting and hopefully later generations will, ahem, “treasure.” It’s just day to day stuff. I wish I could summon profound insight into the big issues of the age, but I can’t. My son Bob can though. I hope that he writes. I know he does, but I hope that he really writes. Deeply, passionately, accurately and maybe occasionally with humor. Ah, I do love making people laugh.
Karen found nine morel mushrooms and so we made risotto. It was outstanding.
See, it’s a diary.
April 16, 2026
Karen has now found about 20 morel mushrooms and I have found three. I think mushroom hunting is a little bit like thrifting. Karen can go into a Goodwill store and emerge laden with cashmere sweaters, Bernard Leach pottery and an original Caravaggio; whereas I will emerge with a dusty pint glass and a rock. In addition to the morels, we also have plenty of young pheasant back (Dryad’s saddle) mushrooms growing on rotting trees. The young pheasant backs are great sliced up, then fried in bacon fat with morels, garlic, bacon, cream, parmesan and black pepper. All this then gets thrown in a big pan of pasta for a luxury midweek treat.
Some gentle mowing has been done. Things are growing fast, and I really need to weed the bed that my beans will go into. I do have to be careful though, as my fingers hurt a lot at the moment; thank goodness my surgery was successful and I can now take ibuprofen again.
April 18, 2026
I think it’s time for another family anecdote. After World War II, 18-year-old kids in the UK had to do National Service. This meant that they would spend a year or two in the military mopping up the debris of war, and generally being told what to do by people with moustaches. My stepfather, Len, had to do this, and was sent off to work for the Army.
Len worked in bomb disposal. Scary stuff.
Eight months into his deployment, Len had a standard medical. It was discovered that he was red/green color blind.
The British Army put a young man with color blindness on bomb disposal.
“Make sure to cut the red wire first, young Leonard.”
The chief medical officer’s reaction to this discovery was “well, you haven’t died yet soldier, carry on.”
Len will be 90 next year; he is the most wonderful human being.
April 19, 2026
Exciting times at Patterdale Hall. Today, plant ecologist and Professor of Biology Don Cipollini will pop out to the Hall to identify whether or not the blisters Karen has been getting on her hands are caused by giant hogweed or cow parsnip. Apparently giant hogweed hasn’t been formally identified in Greene County and so this may be a first. They are horrible plants. I wish it was Queen Anne’s lace but these things get up to 10 feet tall if we don’t hack them back, and Queen Anne’s lace barely gets to 3 feet.
Is it cow parsnip? Is it giant hogweed? I’m on tenterhooks, and should probably have another cup of tea to calm down.
It’s cooler today, so I may light a small fire to keep things jolly in the main room.
In the meantime, I’ll wash the pots and make stock from the roast chicken carcass left over from last night. I’m sure Morris would appreciate a big noodle feast after a hard day shouting at his 27-year-old car. Carbohydrates have a calming effect on young Morris.
Later
Hurrah, the nasty weed isn’t giant hogweed. It is poison hemlock. Delightful! Thanks, Don.
April 20, 2026
After spending the day successfully mending his car, Morris went shopping. Consequently, a paradigm shift has occurred in House Russell-Wyatt: Morris bought an air fryer. We will now be living on a diet of fried dumplings, fried chicken wings and first-line anti-hypertensive medications.
I, for one, welcome our new robot overlord.
April 22, 2026
A more peaceful day today. It rained during the night, which will delay mowing while the grass dries, but it’s sunny out there, and so I shall head out to weed shortly. My sungold tomato starts are ready but my ground isn’t.
*Originally from Manchester, England, Chris Wyatt is an associate professor of neuroscience, cell biology and physiology at Wright State University. He has lived in Yellow Springs for 19 years, is married and has two children and an insane Patterdale terrier. “The Patterdale Hall Diaries,” by Chris Wyatt, is now available in book format via Amazon for $11.99.
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