John Clare
John Clare I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows [more…]
John Clare I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows [more…]
I would like to extend my thanks to Patrick Barron and DJM of this Parish for their insights into the financial world of today. My A Level in Economics and Public Affairs did not prepare [more…]
Monday Good morning and welcome to another week of the ramblings of your favourite cat reporter. A nice morning today again, but I’m delighted to be able to tell you that Legohead had a grotty [more…]
Jane Goodley was fourteen miles away, sitting on the floor in what had once been an office, it was on the first floor, she remembered being dragged up the stairs, her hands and legs were [more…]
Boxing Day was Sint Maarten, a curious, small island, half of which was Dutch, and the other half was French and called Saint Martin. But the Britannia put into Philipsburg, which was on the Dutch [more…]
My loyal reader may well remember the buildings and maintenance department, at my request, taking the big saw to the plum tree, which at the time was riddled with canker, if an attempt to encourage [more…]
This article will be a short review of quite possibly my favourite romance novel. But before we get to the soppy bits, we need to set the scene by wading through some good ol’ blood [more…]
Monday Good morning, and what a beautiful sunny morning it is. It’s nice and warm, and there is a clear blue sky, quite appropriate for my 18th birthday. Legohead is off to an immigration summit [more…]
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