Giving myself away cheaply

I feel I may have given myself away too cheaply, opened up too readily to the outside world my feelings, thoughts and emotions?  Without a doubt it's easier to blog when you're anonymous.  When nobody knows your name or who you are or what you do.  That way they don't find out your inner thoughts, dreams and nightmares.  I'll be back in a bit, so don't worry about me.  In the meantime if you need to speak, you know where to find me.    

The Old Boots

I'm not really a very materialistic person.  Although I think I might have been once upon a time.  Once, I thought that having things - items - would make me happy.  Not that I would turn down a lottery win if the opportunity arose you understand, but only

Farewell: What's gone gets forgotten #22

[A brief history of me in less than 200 words.]

Farewell Heston Grange

One morning, a huge lorry arrived and spilled out a gang of removal men who took all of our packed tea chests and furniture away to our new house in Farnborough. We loaded up Stepdad’s little red Austin 1100 with what was left of our belongings, squeezing

Sprung

Has spring finally sprung in Hampshire?

As I type this blog post it's 11 am on a Saturday morning in April.  I'm sitting out in our back garden at the small square, wooden table we were given for free.  I say wooden; its fake, but will do for now.  For the first time this year we have hung the washing out on

Meeting Joe Pereira

On a drizzly day in deepest Hampshire I met fellow blogger Joe Pereira. 

Ex

[I have no idea if I ever published this piece online or whether it was supposed to be private. It has no date on it, but I think it’s from about 2 or 3 years ago.]

Now.

     As I rode across the bridge, a woman walking a huge white dog looked at me, her face half hidden by the light green summer foliage of a weeping willow tree on the other bank of the river. She had an expression of blankness or maybe one of hatred. At first I didn't recognise her mainly because my eyesight without glasses is awful, but once I was on the same side as her, I could see it was my Ex-wife. Even now after being divorced for so long it sounds so strange to say, “my Ex-wife.” 

Preparing to leave: What's gone gets forgotten #21

[A brief history of me in less than 200 words.]

Preparing to leave 

In 1977, completely out of the blue my Mum informed me we were moving out of the flat at Heston Grange. Mum and Stepdad had managed to secure a newly built housing association home in Farnborough, Hampshire. At the time the GLC (Greater London

Feeling older

The other evening I dropped my youngest daughter off at the pub so that she could meet up with some of her friends. Her chosen venue was a local watering hole where I as a youth, had spent many an evening sat at the bar. In fact, I think it’s the same pub where I took her Mum out for a meal on one of our first dates back in the 1980s.  We wouldn't have been far off the age Beth is now, give or take a bit. Back when the future was second place to having fun and the world a big exciting mystery. Where did those years go? I find quite regularly these days that something happens to make me feel old. 

Is there a moment in your life when your children made you start to feel old?             

Lucy Meadows and what we'll never know

There was this chap call Nathan Upton who was a primary teacher at St Mary Magdalen’s School, in Accrington, Lancashire. As far as I can establish, he had a good teaching record with no complaints against him or blemishes to his career. Nathan was just like most teachers, dedicated to his job and the children in his care.

Summer of 76: What's gone gets forgotten #20

[A brief history of me in less than 200 words.]

Summer of 76 

The summer of 1976 was hot. Even though I was only 8 years old I can remember the heat as the temperature reached 26.7°C (80°F) every day between 22 June, and 16 July. The green out the back of the flats where we lived gradually turned yellow, and then