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This is not actually an in-depth history of the railways. As you might have noticed if you spend any time on my website, I have a self-sabotaging habit of often giving my pieces thoroughly unclickbait titles which often only abstractly, at most, describe what they contain (I think of it
Subscribe now 1. JRR Tolkien's Psychedelic Lime Kiln 2. Dr Who Stipulates In Contract "This Time I Want To Be Able To Receive Letters" Prior To Brutalist Reboot 3. Gateway To The Land Of Leaping Dogs 4. "My Pagan stoner-psych concept LP 'Brutalist Dystopia
My ex-husband’s landlady is 77 years old, five feet nine and a quarter inches tall, with broad shoulders, size seven feet and hair as wild as the kind of unidentifiable weed that you might one day find growing at the top of some steps. She lives at the crest
My cat Roscoe - who some of you might have been introduced to recently via her more vapid alter ego - turns 14 this month. She's a healthy cat, young for her age, which makes my mind boggle a bit as it hits me that precisely ten years
I normally wake just before 3am, get immediately into my tracksuit and go for a run around the bathroom, but not for long, since writing time is of the utmost value to me and I’m at the height of my intellectual powers early in the morning. If I’m
* Multi-person swimming lane etiquette is all entirely workable if you assume it solely involves people with average-size bodies who've been taught to swim properly, but that's not quite addressing reality in its varied face. As a swimmer who frequents busy public pools during the winter months