And, Away!
It's six-o-two on Christmas morning. We are in a distillery cottage on Islay, Dave is sleeping, the wind is roaring round us like a fury, causing the wood in the…
It's six-o-two on Christmas morning. We are in a distillery cottage on Islay, Dave is sleeping, the wind is roaring round us like a fury, causing the wood in the…
I tend to think I'm rubbish at working to someone else's specifications. That commissions stifle my imagination. But, the only projects I've managed to complete, successfully, in the last year…
Like everyone, Covid has affected my life in a zillion random ways. While I've had the very good fortune not to get sick, I'm somewhat weighted by certain repercussions. No…
It struck me, as I lambasted myself for having watched three You Tubes in a row on how to get the most out of Big Sur, that instead of fighting…
Lost in the In-Between I seem to have fallen between the cracks again. The cracks in democracy – I knew the Republicans wouldn't have the guts, but all the same,…
Literary Diet, the final dayTomorrow it won't be January any more, which feels rather abrupt. But there are still a few hours left of the month in which The Guardian…
What is an enchanted land? Does it have to be outside, like a forest or a wild-flower meadow, or can it be inside, like a kitchen in which a pie…
‘There were ninety-seven New York advertising men in the hotel, and, the way they were monopolizing the long-distance lines, the girl in 507 had to wait from noon till almost…
Write a story of between five-hundred, and two-thousand words featuring either two puppies or a goldfish. Your narrator isn't omniscient, but tries to hide that. Featured image: Ahmed Zayan on Unsplash
I've put the following message on my Home page, but thought it worth putting in a blog post too, mostly because I don't suppose many people look at my Home…