It was only a gentle shove but my mother’s hand in the small of my back was enough to get my five-year-old legs tottering down the path to the door of Blackham School before I could have second thoughts and…
It was only a gentle shove but my mother’s hand in the small of my back was enough to get my five-year-old legs tottering down the path to the door of Blackham School before I could have second thoughts and…
Is it possible to call someone you have never met a friend? Probably not. Yet when I heard this week about the death of William Zinsser, someone I had ‘known’ through his books, the exchange of a few letters, a…
One of the joys of retirement is that when something catches your interest you can make the time to chase it around a little and see what pops up. Usually it is a meander through the serendipity of google, a…
When I told my grandchildren I’d grown up in Blackham, a village that didn’t have mains drainage or electricity at the time, their first reaction was ‘How did you watch television?’ As I explained that we didn’t have television, and…