In the last couple of weeks I've posted a number of my narratives onto two Facebook groups whose members have links to my childhood home, Low Fell in Gateshead. These pieces of prose a selection of newly penned and previously written recollections from childhood. Partly factually/partly fictional, their publication was driven by my desire to … Continue reading Say Cheese!
In numerous previous literary offerings I've written whimsically of northern English summers past. In particular the mid to late 1970's, years when meteorological gods bequeathed us Brits almost unbroken sunshine during the warm season. Helius and Zeus working in conjunction with Karma to recompense the UK proletariat for 1974's power cuts and 1976's Great Spangle … Continue reading Balaclava Days in NE9
Last week I wrote a narrative containing untrustworthy recollections from my senior high schooldays in Low Fell, Gateshead. Within those memories I touched upon a sandwich shop called The Griddle - During my schooldays a 'go to' source for midday refreshment. In the 1970s/80s, this Durham Road deli was heavily patronised by Heathfield Senior High … Continue reading “Turkey Salad with Mayo Again?!”
These days having a hair cut is a fairly straight forward experience. On arrival, I'll sit in the barbershop waiting area until it's my turn to don a gown to protect against discarded hair. Once in the chair I'll relay the style of cut I desire, receive the aforementioned cut, pay and leave the premises. … Continue reading Barbershop Strop
"Who wants a game of Japs and Commandos?.... Who wants a game of Japs and Commandos?" A schoolyard enquiry frequently heard at Oakfield Junior School during my fledgling education years of 1968-1974. A chant ordinarily started at breaktime by a small number of boys intent on attracting recruits for their game. A query made by … Continue reading Schooldays Beside The Old Oak Field
During the half century I've resided on this dysfunctional planet I've been confronted by numerous intriguing life questions. Among them an irritational compulsion to unearth what the Q stood for in the name of my childhood optician JQ Summers. The affable Scotsman who practised his ophthalmic trade in a shop opposite the Cannon pub on … Continue reading Q
Earlier today I published a narrative bequeathing it's discerning reader unreliable anecdotes from my junior high schooldays. These notions manifesting from the depths of my capricious mind; embellished by fictional addendums sourced from a neurological chamber with a door titled 'Random'. Breckenbeds Junior High on Saltwell Road in south Gateshead the subject of that ramble. … Continue reading Breckenbeds Fields Forever?