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”
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”
Years ago, I worked in a school where the secretary kept a box with pens, glue, scissors etc; it was labelled stationary box because it was not to be moved from her desk under any circumstances. My father had taught me that stationery was what was sold by the stationer (the -er- matches) so I understood the joke.
Today when I got home, I checked the till receipt. Now I am wondering whether the parcel will ever arrive; I think I bought an envelope that is going nowhere:
I’ve been thinking about workshops recently.
No, not the sort that illustrates this post, but writing workshops for the commentary, critique and creation of original texts.
Continue reading “workshop discussion”