Brits in the USA

Now then. What the heck. It seems I had forgotten about my blog completely rather than just neglecting it this time. To return after so long...

I'm bemused by the scenes from Westminster today. People are queuing for 24 hours to see a wooden box. OK, it's a fancy box surround...

 A tiny tragedy in an ocean of sadness makes barely a ripple. Still, I was taken aback to receive an email from a former wife (the one I nev...

  The death of Charlie Watts, the drummer with the Rolling Stones, this week affected me more than I thought it would. It’s not that Watt...

I seldom dream about politicians but I dreamed of Donald Trump on half a dozen occasions. Each time, the former president occupied an uneasy...

A large Mountain Ash tree grew in the garden behind the house where I lived as a child. It wasn't a remarkable tree but it was a thing o...

Easter is a time of renewal when the wind takes the pale pink blossoms from the trees and paints the sidewalks with polka dots. My thoughts ...

Earlier this month, I was lucky enough to take part in Cabin Work Week at Pocahontas State Park. I figured it would be interesting to hang...

Like the Millennium Dome, my short story for James River Writers was dogged with delays and overwrought. The title was supplied. The rest wa...