Chronicle for Katelan

I’ve a topic request for today’s blog. Well, that’s not strictly true as it was the style of writing, not the actual subject matter within the paragraphs, which I was asked to alter for this post. The request coming from my Ossett squeeze Sarah’s youngest daughter Katelan who, during a literary critique of my penmanship,…

A Cat Called Nigel

Today (hopefully) sees the the commencement of calm after the storm of moving from one West Yorkshire residence to another. An odyssey starting in January when my siblings and I first marketed our late parents abode; an episode which ended as 2022’s ninth month dawned. Footnote – Incidentally, I’m not singling out West Yorkshire as…

Marcel

“The real journey of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” – Marcel Proust My second favourite Marcel (after mime artist Marcel Marceau) advocating a practical and balanced perception of events, rather than the event itself, afforded individuals greater revelation. Although I’m late to the party with this lobbying cry,…

Mirage

I’m alfresco as I ascribe my prose this sunny Monday morn. Amongst the immediate landscape nemesia, marigolds, a patio rose, begonias and forget me nots bequeathing yours truly chromatic views. Aesthetics which calm the soul and augment my already burgeoning amour for Mother Nature. With the clan home, bought by my parents in 1989, changing…

I Blame The Parents

In 1982 an Eton school master wrote to Boris Johnson’s father, Stanley, lambasting the 17 year old for believing it is churlish of Eton tutors not to regard him as an exception. The classics teacher’s polemic going on to inform his pater, Johnson junior also felt he should be free of the network of obligation…

Shooting The Breeze

Six days after changing from a positive to a negative COVID condition I’m still suffering from fluctuating energy levels. In fact I was so wiped out on Saturday I slept for huge swathes of the day. Only vacating my pit to eat lunch and dinner, along with a spontaneous episode where I felt moved to…

Untagged

After almost a week where my constitution experienced eddying waves of malady, I’m now testing negative for COVID-19. Despite this, though, I remain as weak as a cup of tea whose bag was stolen by a passing seagull after only a one second union with boiling water. Footnote – Incidentally, the pinched bag of which…

Symptoms

“I felt like I’d been dragged five miles along cobbled stones by a shire horse named Gloria, who, upon arriving at Wakefield cathedral’s vast wooden doors, sat on my chest as it shared a Costa latte and a natter with her equine buddy Maisy.” This inaugural paragraph of this narrative my response to a friend…

Tales From A Majorcan Poolside

This pièce littéraire is brought to you at a second attempt – Following a network issue at the Majorcan hotel I resided last week, my inaugural attempt wasn’t saved to my editing app. An episode which didn’t spring to light until I attempted to retrieve the six hundred words I’d painstakingly written on a tablet….