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Category Archives: Britain now & then
Windows in the rain
Clickety-click clickety-click clickety-click. A six-carriage train, like a long yellow caterpillar, glides through the distant gorse, appears briefly, then disappears into the trees. We’re sitting on top of a big dune here, hence the stands of golden gorse and pine … Continue reading
Every piston tells a story (in which Jezebel goes on an outing)
Jezebel, our nine-year-old Skoda, sits at home, alone most of the time. The main variety in her daily life is a trip to the Co-op, shopping. (I empathise.) There are times, though, when Jezzie has a really grand day out. … Continue reading
My house for a Hockney? Well, I’d miss the spitting cones …
Ahhhh. Spring. I love it. Well, when it’s sunny I do. Yes, even if it’s ch-ch-ch-ch-chilly. Today the trees have that Impressionist look about them – les nuages comme des little puffs of Pope-announcing white smoke. Le ciel, bleu comme … Continue reading
Posted in Lancashire & the golf coast
Tagged David Hockney, Delius, drawings, gardening, pine trees, robins, spring, The Arrival of Spring, toads, wood pigeons
5 Comments
Of blue pens and high hopes
The village high street’s heaving and the wine bar’s been full a good while now. But it’s not yet ten o’clock. In the morning. A pudgy coach rolls its girth down the road, huffs and puffs into a parking place … Continue reading
From tainted tongue and temporary aunt to blood and custard creams
It was a biscuit that did it. Reminded me, of my ‘gap’ year, Yorkshire style. Anachronistic to call it a ‘gap’ year, really, the term hadn’t yet been coined. Most folks going to university went straight there – unless they … Continue reading
Blowing in to an old new world
A Strauss waltz dances from the breakfast radio. Outside, the headless firs wave their arms like frenzied violinists in some arboreal orchestra. The tall birches, double basses of the tree world, waver and shiver, constrained by their stature – and … Continue reading
A bicycle, a gate and a lawnmower. Scratching beneath the surface of suburbia
I’m out on my bike. A gorgeous day – cold and crisp as a shiny new apple, fresh from the fridge. Wearing my helmet, of course, so can’t exactly feel the wind in my hair, but never mind. ‘Urrreugh.’ I … Continue reading
Posted in Liverpool, Thinking, or ranting, or both
Tagged accident, bear, Bike, fence, gate, hedge, lawn mower, NSA, privacy, sea, suburbs, tea
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MEMOIRS OF A HUSK 