writing
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Tales from table 4 It’s half past four on the 7th of December. I’m stuck inside because storm darragh is still blowing a hoolie outside. I guess they have gotten the weather warning times wrong. Spoons might be shut. I couldn’t get there even if I wanted to, so here I am. I’m sitting at…
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The Post That Only Two People Saw Well, last week’s post went down like a lead balloon—obviously not soaring high, as only two people viewed it. I suspect one of them was me, just checking if my digital presence was still alive! So here we are again, nearly at the last Wednesday visit for the…
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THE DOG HOUSE ( CINDERFORD) Ah, the Doghouse—if there was ever a pub so stubbornly, brazenly unique that the very word “unique” packed up its things, muttered something about finding a less complicated dictionary, and promptly left, this would be it. It was the sort of place that defied description, or at least threatened to…
Tales from Table 4 