A little like this
Driving
Do you ever have that feeling, sitting there, two hands on the steering wheel, that your arms could move, all by themselves, and drive you and your car and whoever is with you off the road, into the ditch, into that car next to you, into the line of oncoming traffic? Do you ever stare […]
Old Filth, and all that.
This post is seven years too late. A perverse and quite irrational sense of anti-nepotism, for want of a better term, has prevented me from becoming acquainted with Jane Gardam‘s beautiful writing before this year. We are not related (sadly!); even if we were, since Gardam is Jane’s husband’s surname, I couldn’t even claim shared […]
Mourning trees
At risk of being outed as a tragic old hippy, I’m mourning a tree. Again. This tree-mourning, I’ve only just realised it even happens. This time, this tree. It wasn’t even a significant tree, or a pretty tree, or even my tree. Just a big, old tree. My neighbours, I like them, and I think they […]