It’s been a beautiful day and, for once, I’ve spent very little time at my computer.
It’s the local folk festival this weekend and there has been music and a general festive air throughout the town. At the end of the road, groups played Led Zeppelin and David Bowie covers, neither of which count as folk to me, though I admit I enjoyed them rather more than I did the Morris dancing.
Continue reading “running late”
It’s quicker and easier to look things up online than in the weighty volumes of the Oxford Universal Dictionary over on the bookshelf, so I’ve just found the definition of “apostrophe” on dictionary .com and it pretty much sums up this blog:
a digression in the form of an address to someone not present […]
After all, you who are reading this are not present, and that first paragraph is itself a digression: I intended to start here at the Old School House –
– and continue by commenting that when I wrote yesterday’s post apostrophising and being (dia)critical of the local school leavers’ fête and the sad inadequacies of modern education, I had forgotten that my original idea was to write about St Swithin’s Day, which had passed unremarked the day before.
Continue reading “things forgotten”
It’s summer and the park is knee-deep in meadow flowers.
It’s also the end of the academic year – time for sports days and garden parties, which explains the following notice, tied to gates of the local school:
Continue reading “picky”
Sometimes, all you seem to be able to focus on are the thistles:
The scent of linden flowers after rain – from the tree the English call lime – has brought memories of the garden in Spain.
Continue reading “perfumed memories”
don't confuse the narrator 