Quodlibet

I am SO glad it's over! Fortunately British politics is always about pink or pale blue shades of centralism, so I am hopeful that ther...

I am taking a break from serving tea, and am sitting relaxing with three of our guys.: Alan, Phil and Sam.   I wonder how I would have r...

I loathe and despise The Annual Review. Mine own were conducted by well-meaning examiners with no concept of the complexities of my role, wh...

I am watching a miracle unfold. I first met Graham, an unemployed labourer when he was optimistic. Funny, grounded, determined, and full o...

Looks empty doesn't it? The New Pilot Inn closed some time ago. I used to frequent it, and I still do, though these days in it's ne...

My friend Alex finally has it taped. Full, as usual of his exuberant excitement, he announced, "These people don't receive bacause ...

I found this idea on my daughter's blog, and thought it a great one: to blog up to eight sentences on a Monday, just to keep going. Well...

Is everything in place? I survey the Tea Table with a critical eye: Urn:  full and switched on.    Check. Tea, coffee, juice: All pres...

She knits. The same scrap of cherry-red wool, over and over, unwinding her rows and click-click, endlessly reworking her masterpiece: keepin...

His name's Brian and he's 29 years old. Long, lean and undernourished with bright blue eyes and bad teeth. He first dropped in for l...

I haven't seen Alice for months. The last time I saw her, she was in bits. She'd broken an agreement not to see the drug-dealing, vi...