I don’t doubt that my long suffering reader will have had a similar conversation to the one I had some days ago with Mrs. C. It went something like this; “Er, Colin, are there any [more…]
As expected (once DJT got his feet back under the table), it became more than a possibility that the war in Ukraine could be brought to a conclusion of sorts. It may not bring the [more…]
The conversation ended as it often does with a young colleague reminding me it’s because I’m old. Perhaps because I really am old, I can’t remember the topic. Maybe the latest delivery of dog food [more…]
A few days ago, the Little Girl Next Door had a school friend come home when school finished at three o’clock. They happily played in the back garden and the visitor stayed for tea. A [more…]
When I finished writing my recent article about the role the small Leicestershire village of Barkby played in shaping me into the person that I am today, I realised that there were many anecdotes that [more…]
From Irun on the Spanish/French border, my father and grandparents made their way south and east to San Sebastian in their heroic Ford 8. It is 1952. Famous for its magnificent double bay and beeches, [more…]
Watching formal schooling, community spirit and childhood and family life in general being relentlessly trashed in recent years has made me think more and more about my growing-up years in a small Leicestershire village between [more…]
I lived for the first seven years of my life in a hamlet on the western fringe of Salisbury Plain. At about six hundred and sixty feet above sea level it was a fairly bleak [more…]
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