Under a waning moon, three furtive figures make their way towards the island’s Constance Bay. Silent, gaunt and burdened, they carry two canvas bags bearing scant rations and a few petty, pilfered provisions — enough [more…]
Boy, how I miss Question Time. The witty repartee, the razor-sharp cut and thrust of debate. George the Poet. The £22 billion black hole. Foodbanks, the statutory tranny, and the obese woman with the purple [more…]
Monday Good morning, my friends. There was a bit of watery sun about when I strolled to the bottom of the garden for my poo behind the gardener’s shed. Something had been digging down there. [more…]
In Part 5, the relationship between Hans Coutandin and Eva Moller appeared to have changed, he was now in Africa and had narrowly missed being captured. In his next letter of the 3rd March 1943, [more…]
Following the last “storm” and the subsequent damage, the path alongside the main growing area had turned into a bit of mud-swamp. This was unavoidable, due to Buildings and Maintenance trekking up and down it, [more…]
Monday Good morning, folks. It’s been raining overnight and is still dull and cold. Legohead is not very happy today—he has just seen the results of the latest MRP poll on the local election, and [more…]
In Part 4, I recounted how Hans Coutandin had been recovering from his head wound in the Reserve Military Hospital in Lörrach, Germany, had been told that he was to be released and had seen [more…]
I don’t know what it is – genetics, environment or culture, but I have always enjoyed cooking and entertaining friends and family. There is nothing as pleasurable or important in my book as blessing guests [more…]
Monday Good morning, folks, and it’s not as nice as yesterday here in London. The last two days have been beautiful here in Westminster, warm and sunny, real windowsill weather. It’s still warm here this [more…]
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