Category Archives: Bad Habits
Hobson’s egg….
Given the choice, we humans will invariably choose to have a choice. The more extensive the list of choices may be, the more highly we regard that which is on offer. Not withstanding, that in this time of ours, knowledge has … Continue reading
burning question…..
Atavistic memories of the word “incinerator” recently started to shuffle around the corridors of my mind but the events surrounding that word remain in soft focus. There was a point in my childhood when several parts of our family shared a house … Continue reading
Thinking of pussy…
A quiet still hour, with Molly sitting on my lap, has given rise to a Professor Higgins moment. It has made me wonder why a person can’t be more like a cat. I should make it clear that I am … Continue reading
…hints of jam,..cinnamon…and a sprinkling of ….sugar.
The disappointingly dull explanation, when recounted to me in my childhood, of how a ship got into a bottle failed then, as now, to raise more than a bored ooh, or a stifled aah. Why one should choose to put, by necessity, … Continue reading
keep it clean, Roger….please..
Whilst driving through the countryside this morning I was momentarily overcome by the unalloyed happiness that is afforded me by just being here. It’s the way that each day is spent not looking forward but just looking. An edible metaphor … Continue reading
Lifting the lid on strawberries…
I blame longitude for the problem. The problem that I refer to is the intensely enervating sensation that comes upon me when I watch hyper enthusiastic television presenters being “excited” about everything and anything. Why am I looking at them at all, … Continue reading
turning a blind eye…..
The apple on the left will never be the apple of the food buyer’s eye as the apple itself has eyes. In the eyes of the buyer those eyes are the eyes that blind the punter from picking it up and paying … Continue reading
Angry birds…
The glow of satisfaction in which to bask at the end of a hard day’s work is as elusive to me as a pretty chicken. After living in the French countryside for some years I am as far from conceiving what … Continue reading
Clinging on in heavy syrup….a wet dream
On most nights I have a dream and, although in my waking moments I have begun to forget everyone and everything’s name, I very often retain a clear image of some tiny fragment of each night’s unconstrained meanderings. This morning’s memory … Continue reading
It was the Sunday before Christmas…
…not that it made any difference, apart from the shops being open. If only those annoying people wouldn’t lie sleeping in the doorways. It’s exactly the sort of thoughtless behaviour that can so easily spoil Christmas. Just imagine…you’re coming out … Continue reading