I’m fairly sure I won’t write on the blog again before Christmas – though I am quite likely to spend far too much of the day itself on the computer so there may be a post then – which is one reason for the post title. The other reason is that if you haven’t already sent your cards, they probably won’t arrive in time for the 25th unless you get to a post office tomorrow and pay extra for Special Delivery.
Tag: writing
nothing but fluff
I have been distracted by real life, so haven’t posted to the blog for nearly three weeks. Now, when I have finally found time to sit at the computer, there seems to be nothing in my head but fluff. If I am to make a post today, I think the best I can do is fall back on old photos. 
Continue reading “nothing but fluff”
more monsters
Continue reading “more monsters”
a little light poetry
Last Thursday was National Poetry Day in the UK, so I am feeling very guilty that I haven’t got around to posting a poem to mark the occasion. 
Continue reading “a little light poetry”
you don’t know what you’ve got…
When I moved to Spain in the late Eighties, I still thought of the UK as my home. Having now, at least temporarily, ceased to have a permanent base in Spain, I seem to be in the opposite position. I don’t think I’ve ever really suffered with home-sickness, but there is always a hint of greener grass elsewhere. (Or, more realistically, greener grass in the UK and bluer skies in Spain, I suppose.)
I don’t know if the leaves in the picture are actually olive leaves – there were certainly no olives visible on the trees – but even set against the grey English sky they reminded me of the olivar I used to walk through to get to the pueblo and I had to stop to take a photo.
Continue reading “you don’t know what you’ve got…”
don't confuse the narrator 