Category Archives: Unreliable memories

Dad and Skip

“How are you, Dad?” “Not well, Skip.” Spending most of the winter in hospital, Dad wishes to be nowhere other than his own armchair. Conversations with the ward staff only bring a re-emphasis of the need for him to remain … Continue reading

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Money in my pocket

Younger people seem to use contactless cards or smartphone apps for even the smallest of purchases, so perhaps having a handful of change in my pocket is a sign of age. There seemed something reassuring in the coins. Once £9 … Continue reading

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Past rhyming

Perhaps oral traditions were already dying during my childhood years. My mother, who was born in 1937, has a wealth of stories about people, places and traditions, no-one from my own generation can recall a fraction of what she still … Continue reading

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Breaking the law on a Ferguson

It has been a day when, even at midday, it never seemed fully light. A thick, heavy blanket if greyness seemed to express the mood of the first ordinary day after the Christmas-New Year holidays. By half past four, there … Continue reading

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Becoming my Dad

It is easy to lose count of time. It is perhaps a month since my Dad was reluctantly taken into hospital, the gentle paramedic explaining that only in-patient treatment could provide what was needed. Had I been him, I would … Continue reading

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