Tag Archives: Southport
Of tinkers, magic – and the perils of mixing grape and chain.
I’m holding a small piece of black plastic with a hole at the top, like a short, fat, dysfunctional needle. Or a midget-sized witch’s magic wand. I waft the holey end in front of a little light and – abracadabra … Continue reading
Golf. Just when I’d begun to …
I won’t say accept it, that would be silly – what difference would that make to anything (or anyone)? Tolerate it, perhaps? No, it was a smidge more positive than that – but anyway. A few days ago I opened … Continue reading
Posted in Britain now & then, Lancashire & the golf coast
Tagged bike rides, flowers, golf, Harrods, IRA, London, rag and bone man, Royal Birkdale, sea, Southport, Women's Open
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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
MEMOIRS OF A HUSK 