This is just a quick post to publicise the current Ted Hughes Festival in Mexborough which is on at the moment. I spent this afternoon in good company walking from Denaby Ings to Sprotborough Lock, listening to Ed Reiss read his poems (always good – inventive, concise, not without a vein of wry humour) interspersed with the work of Hughes, which never fails to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. So many writers whom I admire were on the walk that it felt like a real privilege to attend (no, I won’t name drop – go along to the festival and see for yourself). Frieda Hughes is reading next week. How exciting is that?