9/11 – the years on

Guest post from Louisa Griffith-Jones. Sometimes you just stumble across a remarkable piece of writing. Louisa posted this earlier today. I read it standing at a bus-stop, a lump in my throat. She is a friend, someone I remember from gigs in the early 1980s at UEA...

Approaching Nirvana

Heroes are strange beasts, as is memory. Nirvana never were particularly the former for me, but are very much part of the latter. Retrospectively 25 years on almost to the day it's still quite nice to know you were present at the stuttering birth of a new squalling...

Cambridge – persistence of memory

My mum grew up here. Her and my ancestors were here for hundreds of years working as maids and cleaners, labourers, cartmen and brickies, laying the railways, further back pulling the root veg through the surface of the peaty soils to the north or tending beans and...

Dear Dad…

I've resisted the urge to paint this incomplete picture for a while. But when I started writing this some months ago it would have been my dad's birthday. This got me thinking about him and about how I'm heading towards the age he was when my mum had me. And I've...

What’s THIS for…!

You might recognise this scene for two reasons; Firstly you live in Norwich and have walked down either Duke Street or Oak Street or have sauntered down this chopped off continuation of Colegate beside St Miles Church with it's lovely flushwork and tracery. Secondly,...

The workhorse and the charger

I lived in North Walsham as a kid. RAF Coltishall was only about 6 miles away. We all grew up with the Lightning; the cold-war emblems glossily belting past at high altitude, breaking the sound barrier with that window-rattling, deep, sonorous boom they are famed for....

Persistence of memory

Present views of combined pasts

Gate guardians – Coltishall and Horsham.

This post is a short one, more of a response to this post and the photo which was found in a jumble sale in 2016 by Julie Chettleburgh. It contains a fabulous photo of a Spitfire on Farmer's Avenue (above) which caused a flurry of excitement as everyone either...

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Cambridge – persistence of memory

My mum grew up here. Her and my ancestors were here for hundreds of years working as maids and cleaners, labourers, cartmen and brickies, laying the railways, further back pulling the root veg through the surface of the peaty soils to the north or tending beans and...

read more

The workhorse and the charger

I lived in North Walsham as a kid. RAF Coltishall was only about 6 miles away. We all grew up with the Lightning; the cold-war emblems glossily belting past at high altitude, breaking the sound barrier with that window-rattling, deep, sonorous boom they are famed for....

read more

9/11 – the years on

Guest post from Louisa Griffith-Jones. Sometimes you just stumble across a remarkable piece of writing. Louisa posted this earlier today. I read it standing at a bus-stop, a lump in my throat. She is a friend, someone I remember from gigs in the early 1980s at UEA...

read more

On the beach: Utah

We've just been away. It didn't take me very long to remember that I'm not very good at holidays. The vacancy of it all gets to me very quickly, I find it difficult to relax and conjure 'fun' up out of being somewhere just because it's somewhere else. We tend to end...

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Dear Dad…

I've resisted the urge to paint this incomplete picture for a while. But when I started writing this some months ago it would have been my dad's birthday. This got me thinking about him and about how I'm heading towards the age he was when my mum had me. And I've...

read more