Category Archives: Unreliable memories

Audio books have become a therapy whilst sitting in the constant traffic jams that are part of everyday life.  The congestion causes a nine mile journey to take 45 minutes.  (Yes, public transport is available, if the connections were right, … Continue reading →

‘Ian, are you alright?’ ‘Yes. The older I get the more I think and the less I say.’ Sitting in silence with my hands folded in front of me seems to discomfit some people. It is not intended to do … Continue reading →

‘It’s cold’, said my mother, during one of our thrice weekly telephone calls. ‘It is’, I said. ‘I can’t wait for the spring.’ When I was young, in our house being cold was normal. There was a fire lit in … Continue reading →

 . . . those tissued fripperies, The sweet and silly Christmas things, Bath salts and inexpensive scent And hideous tie so kindly meant John Betjeman’s poem Christmas, motivated by his desire to emphasise the religious, is dismissive of the gifts … Continue reading →

My good friend Richard who has for almost two decades looked after my online presence advised me yesterday that it was some one hundred or sixty days or so since there had last been a post here. Had I been … Continue reading →