If there is any validity in the saying that “every picture is worth a thousand words” then my hoard of old postcards could generate sufficient information to create an entire book. Whether of fact or fiction is open to debate. As reported in previous posts on this topic, two attempts to match the facts recorded…
Souvenir of a visit that is beyond recall. Yesterday’s gone. But it lingers on, the details not forgotten unless it was one of those total wipe-out booze-laden occasions. Same for last week, the month that has passed and, hopefully, the highlights at least, of the year before this one. All are within recall in varying degrees…
We all know about the past being a foreign country [LP Hartley, The Go-Between]Â and in recent days I have come to realise how true that oft-quoted phrase can be. A large handful of well-worn postcards, wrapped in a torn plastic bag, have taken me back down the years and stirred memories that until now have…
Since my recent blog bemoaning the loss of memory a bit of work has been taking place on stimulating whatever part of the brain is responsible for storing and recalling past events. I’ve been doing some ghosting. In other words, visiting old haunts. No need to wrap the body in white sheets and utter some…
Relationships are funny things, and  not in a humorous way. They are even more difficult and complex than relations and, God knows, they’re tricky enough to deal with. But relationships, they’re a real hornet’s nest.  We dive into them carefree and unthinking, full of the joie de vivre of the new and buoyed by expectations…