There was an old woman who swallowed a fly (well, not that old, actually)
It’s not the best way to start a day. I really don’t recommend it. In fact I’m trying to avoid writing about it. But I can’t. We’re driving round a bend between two huts. I open the window and say...
View ArticleMoon over the meanygates
Dark clods of earth, like sticky remnants of Christmas pudding,* form ragged ridges over deep, ice-filled ruts. What once were puddles, ruffled by angry winds, now double as skating rinks – for voles...
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