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Category Archives: Art, jaunts & going out
Two-stepping Stetsons and a bear with no face
Saturday night in Dripping Springs, Texas. It’s not, as you might think, named after the effect of high-summer heat and humidity on the human body. No. It’s Dripping Springs because of the fresh water that attracted the first settlers. Well, … Continue reading
Alternative. Routes, lifestyles & mammoths. Plus, a fine Dusky Maiden
‘Recalculating route,’ she says. I’ve only heard that voice a handful of times but I’m beginning to bristle every time she speaks. It’s the inbuilt navigation system in our car. She’s been more vocal than usual just lately because we’ve … Continue reading
White car woman and Smooth FM
Sunshine. Blue skies. June. You wouldn’t think there was much to surprise a person in that combination, would you? In the northern hemisphere, anyway. But. Here, in northern England, the leaves are still hesitating. ‘Shall we risk it? Unfurl into … Continue reading
My mum and Aunty Maureen. By way of being a paean to a very special supermarket
Every now and again I travel twelve miles to a supermarket. A long way to go, given there are two perfectly acceptable ones within two miles. And both morally acceptable places for me to shop – for reasons that range … Continue reading
A phantom ship and a barbed wire fence
Eighteen years old. Standing at the window of my room in college. Staring out towards a low brick wall supporting a fence topped with barbed wire. Beyond it, the healthy green of a sports field. Above the barbed wire, the … Continue reading
There and back. A post-industrial journey, with cake
I used to love seeing labels that said ‘Empire Made’ – engraved on an old pair of scissors or a battered decorative tin. Such a feeling of immensity in that one word, ‘empire’. But I was a little girl then … Continue reading
Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Britain now & then
Tagged cake, chimneys, Commonwealth, cotton, empire made, mills, silver jewellery, smoke, weavers, wool, Yorkshire
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Five foot two, eyes of blue, yellow bags – and a grand tea, too
‘Diddly diddly diddly doo’ – hard to imagine, if you’re not there, but that’s the audience participation bit – along with ‘ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!’ – to the song, Delilah. It’s a strange song, Delilah. Creepy and jaunty – … Continue reading
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