The Swaling, Part Fifty Three
Myself and Davies are sat in the local MPs surgery waiting room in Sleescale. In one of the better parts of the town, outside are cobbled streets where old gas lights stand redundant next to [more…]
Myself and Davies are sat in the local MPs surgery waiting room in Sleescale. In one of the better parts of the town, outside are cobbled streets where old gas lights stand redundant next to [more…]
Beltane This important festival has been reinvented umpteen times throughout the ages. I knew it from childhood as May Day. On a couple of occasions while at primary school our class was forced to dance [more…]
When you think of the north of England, you think of fells and moors and hill farmers, of ruined abbeys and windswept Wolds, of gaunt mill chimneys, of terracing lurching crazily up bare hillsides, of [more…]
Since Tina and I ditched the TV license last year, we’ve been using the money we saved to amass films and TV from times gone by. You know, back in the days when TV and [more…]
Myself and Davies were sat on a hilltop (the flat limestone pavement type) in our bivvys and sleeping bags, squashed together for warmth. We faced towards the coast. At the horizon, a flat sea was [more…]
Welcome back to Cnuteneering, where the possible is made more difficult by bone headed ignorance, overenthusiasm and pointy metal things being brought together. You may want to refresh your memory on the project in: Part [more…]
It was a fine Thursday evening as Mr. and Mrs. RC were out for their daily perambulation as permitted by Reichmarschall des Grossdeutchen Reiches Johnson. They were discussing arrangements of when relatives were to visit. [more…]
A quiet time in the greenhouse just now, the frosts just keep coming and I’m loathe to put the tomatoes, as healthy as they seem to be, in the cold frame just yet. I have [more…]
Myself and Davies are two dots in the landscape running along county roads from Sleescale to a neighbouring town. Occasionally, we take short cuts across farmer’s fields. The weather is cold. So cold that the [more…]
Copyright © 2024 | MH Magazine WordPress Theme by MH Themes