Author Archives: memoirsofahusk
Of tinkers, magic – and the perils of mixing grape and chain.
I’m holding a small piece of black plastic with a hole at the top, like a short, fat, dysfunctional needle. Or a midget-sized witch’s magic wand. I waft the holey end in front of a little light and – abracadabra … Continue reading
The anaconda, or the hat?
The anaconda swallowed an elephant. It was, admittedly, a very brown anaconda. Brown like the brown-paper-packages that Julie Andrews liked tied-up-with-string. I love the concept: a little boy draws a picture of an anaconda that’s swallowed an elephant – but … Continue reading
Temples, ruins and too much information
Monasteries, abbeys, priories – they never look so good as when they’re ruined, don’t you think? I spent many a childhood holiday trotting behind a father who was batty about architecture. Grand houses decked out in precious furniture and china … Continue reading
North, south and nowhere. Of rape, politics, PR and simple geography
I’m angry. I apologise in advance if this is poorly researched, disjointed and incoherent. I’m not stopping to find things out, I’m writing from the heart, not the brain. And I’m writing as a northern English person who feels passionate … Continue reading
Hell’s bells and buckets of blood
Cursing has its fashion moments. Some are good, some are the verbal equivalent of peasant-style smocks with frills. You look back and think – did anyone ever really say that? My mum used the one in the title – I’m … Continue reading
Bombs, war and death-bringers. Another great day out.
Once upon a time, I worked for a magazine that spelt ‘defence’ ‘defense’. It was one of three magazines in the stable of an American specialist publisher and I was, for a while, the nearest thing they had to a … Continue reading
MEMOIRS OF A HUSK 