That’s the sound of me landing at Heathrow. * Hello, I’m here. ** You didn’t hear that, did you? Actually, it sounded more like a little “poof”. Because it snowed overnight. And the whole of Oxfordshire is reduced to incredible shapes and shadows. All of which I’m compelled
R and I walk on the beach in the midst of the madness, when everything seams chaotic, a little shaky, a little uncertain. The wind whips up more questions and the future seems hazy. R’s hand slips into mine and
I have a confession to make; I don’t really like coffee. But I love tea. Any kind of tea really. And have had times in my life where I’ve been totally addicted to Starbucks venti chai lattes, non-fat milk,
I’m relieved now that my brain has calmed down a little and I’m no longer wandering the house at night. My cats are staring at me with gold owl eyes. They’ve had two months of peaceful nights and suddenly there’s
Windy day in Oxfordshire. It's one of those days where you put the laundry out on the line and, half hour later, treat yourself to a five mile drive to retireve it! That's the kind of day the village fate
So, does everyone know we are completely mad about minis?
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by
Today I drove over a dead fox on the A 404. I was driving my Austin 7 and going about 60 mph and, well, I’m a complete wimp about these things. The problem is that the fox was right in
If walls could talk What stories are inside these warm Cotswold stones? Did Chaucer use the front door? Did he use the side door? Did he use the garden gate? Or the service entry?
Parking in Oxford cost about £100/hour (allowing for the most marginal exaggeration), and even if you can afford the fees, the parking is usually limited to only two hours. I hate being under any kind of limit so I use