He’s Percy & She’s Glad

In lieu of today’s blog I enclose a whimsical short story written for part of writing workshop I attended today. Hopefully it’ll scratch that literary itch:- “For the love of god, can you please turn that bloody central heating down, GG!” An admonishment delivered from inside his battered old bird cage by outspoken parrot Percy….

‘Eading To Edinburgh

I’m penning this missive aboard carriage A on a Transpennine train to Newcastle. Out of the window to my right the flat sweeping green fields of North Yorkshire provide enchantingly scenic views. Looking through left sided windows affords similarly aesthetic landscape for this middle aged fella’s tired eyes. They say the early bird captures the…

An Apology

Regular readers to these missives will probably realise I’ve a penchant for occasionally poking fun at my younger brother Ian’s ingrained clumsiness. Observations mischievously portraying our kid as a Closeauesque figure with an honours degree in Mr Beanery from Chuckle Brothers University, Rotherham. I published such a blog last week titled Hurricane Ian – The…

Hurricane Ian – The Sequel

After this weekend there’s a chance I can kiss goodbye to the deposit I posted to cover against damage to the apartment I’m currently renting close to Wakefield city centre. Jeopardy of me being £650 outta pocket at my tenancy conclusion introduced in the shape of a four day visit from my younger brother Ian….

To The Victor Go The Spoils

This effort littéraire is my first creative offering since the 12th September. A prose paucity consequential of several life episodes, rendering free time at my laptop of a premium. Amongst the culprits causing this dearth of written dialect were a couple of short breaks, along with a multitude of tasks borne from moving home a…

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…

Driving In My Car

In a dispassionate act, aimed at easing potential transportation issues for my fragrant chum Sarah’s two young grandkids (Rory & Gracie), yesterday I included Ossett’s finest onto my car insurance cover. The rationale behind the indemnity modification (well, apart from me being an inherently kind fella), was a conclusion my four door vehicle would provide…

A Question

To commence this monologue I’ve a question for you, my dear reader. Don’t worry it’s nothing overly technical or scientific; not that you wouldn’t have the erudition to deal with any inquiry I posed, I hasten to add….. Hopefully that disclaimer will cut off any hate mail at the pass. Anyhow here’s the catechism of…