Category Archives: Art, jaunts & going out

Beheaded for flirting? LOL!

Posted on December 12, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

One of the things foreigners living in England always struggle with is identifying the social trip wires. How do you hold your fork? Is it a napkin or a serviette? Do you need to go to the toilet, lavatory or … Continue reading →

Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Britain now & then | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

The Lady in the Van meets a surfeit of anoraks

Posted on November 17, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

There’s something disturbing about modern cinemas, y’know. Have you tried shedding a surreptitious tear in one? It’s light enough to see, that’s the problem. Yes, you can find your seat without crippling half the audience – or yourself – in … Continue reading →

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Romantic ruins and inner visions

Posted on October 27, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

I’m elitist and snobby. Unadventurous. Uncultured. And worse. They’re just a few of the things I’ve been accused of being. No, not by trolls, nor disgruntled readers. This is some of my friends I’m talking about. Why? Because I’ve not … Continue reading →

Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Britain now & then | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

There’s a hole in my heart where Mary used to be

Posted on October 11, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

Saturday night. The last train home. The station’s bright and light. The sound of squiffy silliness peppers the air. There’s no menace, no riotous shouting. No spitting, or pissing, or – you know – any of those ‘I wish I’d … Continue reading →

Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Britain now & then, Liverpool | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls. Two gold llamas. And, Chopin woz ‘ere

Posted on August 25, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

We went by train – 35 miles or so as the crow flies. More than an hour and a half, on a Sunday. An interesting journey, chugging past lonely chimneys, their factories long gone. Well, mostly. ‘Uncle Joe’s mint balls … Continue reading →

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“Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it”

Posted on August 14, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

I was going to use the first bit of that quotation: “Finality is death. Perfection is finality.” but I thought it was a bit depressing. It comes from, ‘The Crock of Gold’, written in 1912 by Irish poet, novelist and … Continue reading →

Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Llyn Peninsula | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Fairies and minnows, Codlins and scones

Posted on August 10, 2015 by memoirsofahusk

‘Did you wish?’ I say. He didn’t. He caught the fairies, let them go – and didn’t even wish. We’re walking along the canal near Rufford Old Hall in Lancashire. The clump of conjoined fairies – aka fuzzy, aerodynamically perfected … Continue reading →

Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Lancashire & the golf coast | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments