Reading, reading…

I read all the time.  I think most writers do.  It’s my go to relaxation activity, it’s my way of finding out about myself and the world that is not me.  I’m a two novels a week boy, unless it’s a splendidly commodious Victorian novel that I can bathe in for, oh I don’t know, … Read more


My outside office has been burgled twice in the last week.  The vandals, singular or plural, may be the same ones, either returning to complete the job of completely trashing the joint, or lying low somewhere, behind a bookshelf perhaps to continue with their self-imposed task of shredding, destroying and leaving their foot prints on … Read more

Isle of Wight

Some years seem to come laden with the past, particularly if one has reached a significant birthday as I did with my seventieth a few months ago.  It’s brilliant to be able to say that one was doing a certain thing fifty years ago and the five decades seems to give it all a special … Read more