-
Recent posts
Topics
- Follow MEMOIRS OF A HUSK on WordPress.com
-
Category Archives: Lancashire & the golf coast
Do you like your shrimps shaken – or stirred?
James Bond likes his shrimps potted. It’s the bizarre kind of fact a journalist finds useful for livening up a dull article. I once worked on a magazine in Park Lane, London. At Christmas the printers used to take my … Continue reading
Fairies and minnows, Codlins and scones
‘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
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
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
Miranda the intake nymph
“I’ll just set it back to zero.” It’s not what you’d expect in the middle of England. But then, the middle of England’s probably not where you’d think it might be. According to its inhabitants, the tiny village of Dunsop … Continue reading
Hidden. Easter Sunday mirages at the beach
A skylark rises, invisible, like the gentle, irregular whistle of a barely boiling kettle, singing on the hob. A good day to be a skylark. The merlins and sparrowhawks will be flummoxed by the clammy sea-mist that’s swirling in the … Continue reading
MEMOIRS OF A HUSK 