“Everything’s late this year,” said my aged mother, when I took her a cup of tea in bed this morning.
I thought that was rather unkind – it was only seven o’clock and who on earth expects their visitors to provide tea in bed before that on a Sunday?
But the theme has continued throughout the morning:
Continue reading “late”
When I was out walking the other day, I came across this lovely angle, where the Grand Union Canal crosses the railway track.
Initially, I thought of Frost’s “two roads diverged in a yellow wood”, but that wasn’t quite right, as there were no steps down to the train line so I had to keep following the towpath, whether I wanted to or not.
Continue reading “let me count the ways”
“[T]here is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
As Shakespeare clearly understood when he had Hamlet say the above line, everything in life is affected by our personal perspective.
And our perspective depends very much on where we were born and brought up, and on the social and family values we were exposed to as children. Even beauty is a learned concept.
Continue reading “it’s complicated**”
I’ve never been much of a one for parties and events, so don’t usually have to worry about juggling a diary full of Christmas lunches and business gatherings, and coping with burning the candle at both ends, with breakfast meetings following hard on the (high) heels of fancy meals and late night drinks.
This year, though, the holiday season celebrations seem to have started early and for some reason I am more involved than ever before.
Continue reading “senseless”
The photo above, taken late last week, shows autumn at its sunniest: all ginger and bright, the sort of day that tempts you to scuff through piles of rustling russet leaves, even if you’re wearing smart work shoes.
The tree in the next picture, with its red leaves flaming against the clear sky, reminded me of the burning bush.
Continue reading “unreliable narrators”
don't confuse the narrator 