Tag Archives: Peterloo

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

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

Posted in Art, jaunts & going out, Britain now & then | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

I am not a number. Je suis humaine.

If you recognise the first part of the title as coming from ‘The Prisoner’, award yourself a silver star! But, be warned, that’s as cheerful as the mood of this post gets. Today I was planning to write something superficial … Continue reading

Posted in Thinking, or ranting, or both | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments