We Brits are fickle about the weather.
We complain when it’s too cold, too windy, too wet or too hot. We complain especially when the country’s main weather provider, the Met Office, is unable to predict our changeable weather from one day to the next. I reserve special animus for this forecaster’s tactic of getting it all wrong, again, then updating their site on the day in a shameless attempt to pass it off as though they had known it all along.
Continue reading “Summer Heat”Here’s one I wrote for a local campaign. It seems that our lovely Devon countryside is disappearing with indecent rapidity to build more and more poor quality houses.
Sustainable development is one of the new catch phrases of our age that is sold to us by dishonest politicians. It sounds great- who wouldn’t want all development to be sustainable? The reality is far from it…
It’s been over a year since I last posted and so much has happened that I couldn’t possibly catch up. Or it would be such a long post as to make it unreadable. Instead I have tried to encapsulate these strange times in
in a poem- Made in China…
A Christmas Star
2020 has been a very difficult year for many. In a sense, of course, every year is difficult – it is subjective. In 1992 the Queen spoke publicly of her own ‘annus horribilis’ after the breakdown of her children’s marriages and the fire at her Windsor home.
Continue reading “A Christmas Star”Newton Abbot – December 2020
Yesterday I read that one of the first people in the United Kingdom, indeed the world, to receive the new Pfizer coronavirus vaccine, was a man named William Shakespeare.
Continue reading “Community Relations”In a narrow window of bright sunshine at the low morning tide, we decided to walk on the local beach.
Continue reading “A Fishy Tale”Yesterday Michelle and I made the familiar journey down the long country lane to lay flowers at my mother’s grave.
Continue reading “Remembrance Day 11/11/20”Reignbow woke at 6am to the bark of a neighbour’s dog.
Continue reading “When the Commies came to Town- chapter 3”A morning slack tide and I begin a lazy paddle in the late September sun.
I love this time of year; It has a rare and precious quality that all of summer’s long days cannot match.
Continue reading “September Sun and Tide”Common Era, 2025, Newton Abbot, Devon.
“There you go,” said Whyte, laying a cup of coffee in a plastic cup and a plate of food next to Reignbow.
“You gave us all quite a shock with that funny turn. Perhaps you’re just hungry.”
Continue reading “When the Commies Came to Town – chapter 2”
