Lies, damned lies and black redstarts
Once upon a time there was a little boy who lied. He didn’t do it all the time. No no …
Apologies for Absence
When I resurrected this blog a few months ago, I swore I’d post every week, and I suppose this brief …
Cover story
The week has passed, looking neither to the left nor the right, and scurrying through in the hope that it …
A year ago today…
…it was cloudy. I have the photos to prove it. The plan for the day: up early (the emptiness of …
Billions of blathering buffoons
The week has passed, spending its time gawping open-mouthed at the events across the Atlantic, and pausing only to complain …
Trouble at t’feeder
The bird feeders in our garden have turned into a battleground. Our efforts to quell the onslaught of ring-necked parakeets …
Dabbling
There are those who are born to dabble, and those who are not. Firmly in the latter category sat my …
Clive James – still not dead
About fifteen months ago The New Yorker published a poem by Clive James called ‘Japanese Maple’. It was, and is, …
You can
You have many talents. You can change a fuse. You can watch Frasier all day long. You can cycle for …
Ceci n’est pas un poème
Today is International Poetry Day. Here is my contribution. I have taken Kurt Vonnegut’s words of wisdom to heart: “Practising …