“Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.”
A rarely seen £20 note. Living the Good Life :o) “This goes out over my dead body,” Chrissie Hynde told producer Chris Thomas in the fall of 1979. The Pretenders had just recorded their newest track “Brass in Pocket” at Wessex Studios in London and the lead singer and songwriter “hated” it. Despite her initial […]
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Mmmn. Now what could that be? I’ve just taken a book of a shelf that I’ve not opened for a very long time. Scanning the flyleaf, I’m confronted with the following : The Foreigner is a great and extraordinary man : a visionary, but not deluded; a liberator but not a patriot; a stranger and […]
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I’m having a love/hate relationship with White Cottage Company at the moment. Love her style. Hate the fact that she can do this ALL. With a man-who-can-and-will. Special Envy/Hate for her Sidhe Shed. I’m still pouting. Lots. I WANT ONE. :o( Stanes then Shed. P.S. I’ve been told that we have a Scorchio week ahead. […]
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My father – David. The Selous Scout – David. T4- David. If it’s not a John, it’s a David. Sheesh.
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That’s all I need :o) We used to be able to buy Scotch (Mutton) Pies here but, sadly, no longer. They taste better up there, anyhoo. Many a time me and Lily (Nan) would stroll into town to pick up her messages (go shopping in English) and come home with freshly made floury baps and […]
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Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote the latter. His wife, Mary Shelley, wrote the former. Better known as Frankenstein. A bit of poetry then a bit of a GB goggle. Go away :o) BTW : Ken Bran is a Belfast Boy…FECK ME !
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Getting up at 4am to drive someone to work does strange things with one’s mind. I’ve always liked Bros of Decay but this one is slightly jarring. Too many things are “off” – as in – they make no sense. Absolute Truth – my home collects more dust and spiders and such-like in ONE WEEK […]
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OMG. It is so long since I read this. Like decades. All I remember is that I’d stop and re-read certain sentences. I think, though I could be impossibly wrong, that Dumas was 3 quarters black. His father was half black, a bastard and from Haiti. His grandmother full, from Africa. Whatever. If you ever […]
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I’m inundated with onions. Enter our fave soup. The worst part is cutting the onions. I cry and SNEEZE. Lots :o) P.S. The best way to serve this is in a small cottage loaf.
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Why not? The men of the house had the pig sty converted into a man-cave with fruit machines, a bar, dart board, super-duper stereo system plus TV…I’m going to have a SHE SHED. So there. We have his and her sheds in the orchard already. Hers has a leaky roof and rotten floorboards but I’m […]
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So I’m back to the velvet undergroundBack to the floor that I loveTo a room with some lace and paper flowersBack to the gypsy that I wasTo the gypsy that I was And it all comes down to youWell, you know that it does andLightning strikes maybe once, maybe twiceOh and it lights up the […]
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The tiny bookshop that I was squished into the other week, remember? Oh. Never mind. It’s so small now because the owner has given the other half of the shop to his daughter and her partner. Today, I finally found the shop open and so went inside. Begad and begorrah. There are old/antique Tarot cards […]
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Hidden History Research 