The last thing Niamh remembered was drowning, so it came as a surprise when she woke up. At first she thought she was dreaming. The air had that strange grey sense of a dream. Or being underwater. She held up her hand in front of her and moved it from side to side. Her skin... Continue Reading →
I'm a little late here, but I want to just talk about New Year’s Resolutions. We make ‘em, we break 'em – that’s true for me and I expect it’s true for a lot of other people as well. Every year we make ourselves all sorts of promises – to loose weight, get fitter, get... Continue Reading →
This year it is our turn to do the Nativity, And everyone is slack, We have rehearsed for two weeks now, So I’m not going to take all the flack. Miss Twit, as I call her, is on the piano, Waving her arms like a bird, Her ‘arrangement’ of Holly and Ivy Is nothing less... Continue Reading →
The men had faced the hooded clock and fallen first. Dusty or sudden, they went, and then only the women remained. They swept up the mess, as they had been taught, tied on plastic caps, and gathered in quiet hordes. Grey and rinsed and wrinkled, with button eyes full of world domination, they planned in... Continue Reading →
A while back I visited Lacock Abbey. Now yes it is well known as the place where William Talbot made the earliest known surviving example of a photographic negative in 1835 but more importantly, they filmed scenes from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone, Chamber of Secrets and Half-Blood Prince there. There are also a number of... Continue Reading →
It is on days like these, when the trees stand still and haggard, when the ground is brown fluttered I can think of no better place than this old Earth. The air bites and tingles, the grass thinned, as I stand in choking woodsmoke, inhaling the beauty. Wrapped tight and head bound, we wander through... Continue Reading →
They called her Hildegard the Wielder. At first glance, it was not easy to understand why. She was but a young woman, small and slight, with tangled dark hair and dark, knowing eyes. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her. On second glance though, things became clearer. Strapped across her back, was a sword... Continue Reading →
Charles Dicken's birthplace lies tucked away in Portsmouth. The street is a sore thumb of nineteenth-century architecture in amongst a labyrinth of blocky sixties tower blocks. Dickens didn't live in the house long, moving to London when he was still a young child. The museum that is now in his old house doesn't include any... Continue Reading →
English: The main reading romm of Graz University Library (19th century) on 2 Sep 2003. Picture taken and uploaded by Dr. Marcus Gossler. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) For a large part of my life, libraries were my sanctuary. My parents were regular visitors and would take my brother and I in every few weeks. My child’s... Continue Reading →
We've been away for a few days in the wilds of Dartmoor, an area thick with inspiring scenery and mythology. Our home away from home was an manor house turned hotel, complete with roaring fires, wood panelling, a cosy library - and possibly a ghost or two. I'm not sure if it was the hotel... Continue Reading →
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