great wishford church

3BT

1. From the passing bus I watch a young woman standing at a crossing.  She's dressed in black.  Black shiny shoes, black shiny tights, black dress, black raincoat, black sunglasses, black ribbon.  Silent.  Expressionless.  Her hands are thrust deep in her coat pockets.  She's trying to hoist her knicker elastic back up around her waist.  The front of her skirt and her coat twitch slowly up beyond the modesty line.  Then she stops fidgeting and shakes her whole body to regain her composure.


The Loved One and I re-enter the flat after our short holiday, and realize before we even switch on the light that the air is full of the powerful sweetness of the newly flowering hyacinth.


On Gelligaer Common, I drive slowly across the moorland towards a bunch of galloping ponies and stop for them to cross the road.  One, the smallest and hindmost, veers off and turns back.  We move for a minute or so in parallel, he is only ten yards from the car.  On the other side of the car, besides a high ridge, the same distance from me and less than ten feet above the ground, a red kite hovers, wings and forked tail working and twisting as she fights to maintain her position in the wind.

aunt mavis trying on her mother's glasses

all things must pass ... some with flying colours ... the mourners gave a thunderously rousing three cheers for tina before they hit the bar

the usual suspects ... barcelona, again

stuff at bancffosfelen

whoa ! hang on a minute ! those ain't the white cliffs of dover ! ... backsun

tear jerkingly brilliant ...

viral ... via angus trumble in this instance

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyviyF-N23A&feature=youtu.be

braque's ghost

a fully subskribed member of the irreversibly krinkly klub

stuff in the VandA

the illusion of winter ... and whilst i'll never be tempted to join the english defence league, i'd like to assert my national right to fry liver and onions at six in the morning

at sheffield park, flouncing in ...

... flaunting herself ...

... and flouncing out again

appropriately, on armistice day, i found this document on display in the new museum on the bluebell line at sheffield park station

her wonderful daughter alex just told me that tina's gone ... last week i had promised her that paul newman would be waiting by the gate to lead her directly, hand in hand, to the bluebell wood

...and this is what was playing on the radio when i got the message

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ri2CzfI84Wk&feature=related

i had often wondered why none of my country friends make jam with spindleberries

http://www.thepoisongarden.co.uk/atoz/euonymus_europaeus.htm

bags of crisps were packed in tins like this when i started school in 1954 ... i found this one in an alley way behind a restaurant this afternoon ... and despite all our wet weather it was as bone dry as if someone had just put it out

http://www.flickr.com/photos/castlekay/2630591987/

burwash rose ... a generous gift from it's maker ...

http://www.traditionalcheesedairy.co.uk/news.htm

... many thanks ... we'll savour it when the loved one gets home this evening