It is one of those cold, wet winter days consumed by grey. Where the sky seems to reach right down to the pavements and gardens in one vast wash of greyness. If I had a view of the sea at this moment the sea and sky would be indistinguishable from one another, just all grey, the kind of picture perfect for making a really tricky jigsaw puzzle from. I am in a loft room in the east midlands at present – a sea view a geographical impossibility. There are three roof windows cut out of the sloping ceilings, two on one side of the apex, one on the other, and the colour of sky is exactly the same shade in each. Farrow and Ball would list it on their paint chart as ‘nondescript grey’. Or perhaps just, ‘nondescript’.
A glass of pink fizz was waiting for me on the table in the bar when I came out of WH Smiths, my treat aeroplane reading clutched in one hand. I ‘cheersed’ my chap and chinked my glass against his. Flying with an airline where every little thing seems to be not included in the … Continue reading Writers’ Tears
In order to supplement whatever part time job I had at the time, and to top up my lager snakebite fund, during my ‘A’ level years I would meet up in town with friends and we’d take over a patch of pavement and busk. Sometimes I would be half of a duo, but mostly I’d … Continue reading The Gig
The road that I live on is a friendly sort of place. It’s not too long and not too short, with only one way in and one way out. It is home to an assortment of cats who may or may not deign to pass the time of day with you, depending on their mood … Continue reading Some other time
For those of you unfamiliar with the BBC Radio Four programme, 'Desert Island Discs', I feel that some background information may assist in your understanding of the words to come. The programme was thought up by Roy Plomley, who presented the show 1942-1985! Then came Parky, followed by Sue Lawley 1988-2006. The current presenter is … Continue reading So Lonely
Palm trees and hot tubs Once upon a time, an English symphony orchestra decided that an ornate Tuscan church would make a lovely alternative to their usual London concert venue, and a plan was hatched forthwith. A plan that came to the ears of a lady writer and her chap, with an invitation to pack … Continue reading Road trip – finale
Part three - Italy A gigantic, immovable mountain blocking a short cut to Italy? 'We can't go over it. We can't go under it. We've got to go through it', as Michael Rosen might say. Mont Blanc was, obviously, impossible to miss, and his mouth could be glimpsed ahead, wide open and hungry for vehicles … Continue reading Road trip – part three
Today I will write a poem, I think, it feels like a good thing to do. But my head is lacking coherent words and my rollerball hasn't a clue. Inspiration is playing a rascally trick, an elaborate hide and seek. Despite me hunting my hardest, it turns out I'm lacking technique. I extend my search … Continue reading Today I will write a poem