Autobiography
It Usually Rains at Funerals
I’d planned to cut it short; just pay my respects, that sort of thing.
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Holiday in America - part 1
A few months ago, I wrote an introduction to the big trip to America which I was about to take, and it is only fair to say that I was dreading. This...
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An Ode to Tortsie
AN ODE TO TORTSIE Finally we got you, the much longed for pet. “Can we have a dog, Mum?” “Oh, no, not yet. But maybe a tortoise might just be allowed...
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How to become a published writer (2 of 2)
In apparent justification of his predicament, and in effort at alignment to another’s who he admired and considered worthy of aligning himself with,...
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How to become a published writer (1 of 2)
“A man of low intelligence believes, against all evidence, that he is an exception, and that the world owes him happiness.” Unsourced He knew they...
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- 124 reads
Meetings
"Think of this. A sword is like a bird. If you clutch it too tightly, you choke it - too lightly and it flies away." from Scaramouche (1952) It's...
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Creature Comforts
Within the lick of passing glow, leaping with determination; chasing moths vision ablaze, as wings flutter without purpose. A mischievous nature led...
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Grasmoor End
I passed my fells Causey Pike Outerside and Barrow Sand Hill Eel Crag (or Crag Hill, if that’s your bag) and Grasmoor Sweeping down through Coledale...
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Mid-Wales – (in August)
Humpy hills, all ups and downs, with glowing purple heather crowns, paths of turf between fern patches, bilberries, lichen, moss and rushes. Skylarks...
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- 4756 reads