‘THE LAKE. THE NIGHT. THE CRICKETS. THE RAVINE. THE ATTIC. THE BASEMENT. THE TRAPDOOR. THE BABY. THE CROWD. THE NIGHT TRAIN. THE FOG HORN. THE SCYTHE. THE… Read more “Lists, writing and memory”
Category: Folkestone
Russell Hoban: with love and thanks
Russell Hoban – it amazes me how some people still say ‘Who?’ Where to start with him? I was lucky. When I was 18, my English teacher literally threw… Read more “Russell Hoban: with love and thanks”
The Last Post
No, not my last post ever. Just a final one in the unexpected trilogy this year that have marked my Dad’s illness, death and funeral. And I can… Read more “The Last Post”
Mrs Malaprop and Mr Waugh
‘But Mr Joyboy, you’ve given him the Radiant Childhood Smile.’ ‘Yes, don’t you like it?’ ‘Oh, I like it, of course, but his Waiting One did not… Read more “Mrs Malaprop and Mr Waugh”
Home
My Mum still refers to my ‘coming home’ when I visit. She has spent every day of the past month, including Christmas Day, making a 40 mile… Read more “Home”
No more giant badgers. Shame, really.
My daughter is unlikely to be attacked by a giant badger. This makes me sad. I am sad that, of course, there is no such thing as a… Read more “No more giant badgers. Shame, really.”
Out of Place 