Author Archives: Ian

Callers recalled

‘My brain is addled’. A third bout of Covid during the summer has left my mother in a fog, short-term memory has become patchy at times, but recollections and anecdotes remain clear ‘It was after the war. We used to … Continue reading

Posted in Unreliable memories | 1 Comment

Bread and butter

Salt, mustard, vinegar, pepper, French almond rock. Bread and butter for your supper, That’s all mother’s got. The words of the skipping song surfaced in my memory. Perhaps primary school was the last time I heard it sung. Of course, … Continue reading

Posted in The stuff of daily life | 2 Comments

Above the waters

‘Risk of road flooding’ declared the black letters on a bright yellow sign. The persistent rainfall would undoubtedly top-up the already filled ditches and rhines that criss-cross the landscape of the Somerset Levels. It is hard to imagine how the … Continue reading

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The intolerance of the ‘tolerant’

The Christmas lights are going up in my home town of Langport. Well, I call them ‘Christmas lights’, according to the organisers, they are ‘winter festival’ lights.  This is simply a piece of secular bigotry. Of course, they would argue … Continue reading

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A distant investiture

According to the radio, the King of England was seventy-five years old today. Once, when he was a young man, he was the focus of the rapt attention of S.pmerset schoolchildren Our school television could have been a prop from … Continue reading

Posted in Unreliable memories | 3 Comments