If you’re a blogger, it doesn’t pay to offend your readers, especially when you have so few to lose. Why I spelt Neil’s name as Neal I’ll never know, but it is now corrected thanks to Mistape. All I can say is that it could have been worse – I might have spelt it Kneel.
Truth be told, my eye has been off the the blogging ball of late and I’m not sure why. I’ve begun several posts then binned them because they just didn’t feel like they were worth the effort. Read more ›››
Nat King Cole was fibbing when he sang Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer. Hazy possibly, crazy sometimes, but definitely not lazy in my opinion.
For months, I’ve led a fairly blameless existence, doing as I please, then out comes the sun, as it did last week, and suddenly it’s all action. The grass is growing ten to the dozen and needs mowing twice a week, along with all the other gardening chores. Read more ›››
It has been an odd week on the domestic front of the Parrot household. Where there were three, there is only two and we are left with a large son shaped hole in our lives.
Master Parrot moved out last weekend, off to a house that he is sharing with his two best mates. We’ve known he would be leaving for a couple of months, but it even so, it all happened very suddenly, or so it felt. Read more ›››
This has been a hectic week one way and another. I was with my dad on Monday for my regular visit/shopping trip, then again today for his appointment with the hospital consultant.
His health isn’t brilliant and unlikely to get much better, so we will be regulars at the hospital for the foreseeable, in fact we’re due back there again next Friday for a bone scan. Read more ›››
I’m not one of those who finds the bad English you come across on signs and restaurant menus when on foreign holidays as hilarious as the average Daily Mail reader.
The poor souls are doing their best to make a bob or two from us British tourists with our bizarre spelling and odd grammar and odder newspaper habits. Read more ›››
It has been another unwintery winter, at least until today when I opened the curtains to a very white car park that the night before had been the main road past our house.
Where it came from I’m not sure as it was simply raining hard when I went to bed and not especially cold. And it has showed no sign of stopping, well not until mid-afternoon. Read more ›››
When I was a youngster, a regular sight on the streets where I lived was the rag and bone man who would take old clothes and other junk in exchange for balloons and other knick-knacks.
His cry of ‘raaaag bo’ would have us kids scuttling round the house in search of anything we could swap, which wasn’t easy since nothing much got thrown away until it was beyond repair, so most of the old clothes we had were on our backs. Read more ›››
Strange how conversations pan out. If you asked me how me and dad got from talking about how he needed a new pair of slippers to his close encounter with German Doodlebug during the war, I couldn’t tell you, but that we did.
It happened around Christmas in 1943 or 1944 and was one of several scary experiences, even though he never got closer to the front than the Home Guard. Read more ›››