Letting Go and Moving On – A Review of My Year

Given the clattering clown car of idiocy and doom that was 2018 (and, indeed, 2017 and 2016), I’m almost ashamed to admit that I’ve had a really good year. It didn’t start out so well either. After slogging through about four years of severe and uninterrupted depression since the last nervous breakdown, I cracked up…

A True Story for Halloween

It was hard to live in the country, and Celia had been there her whole life. After eight children, she remained what people called a handsome woman. Despite aprons, a thickening waist, barge arse and silver stretch marks, all of which George claimed he never noticed, her pale skin was soft and wanton beneath the…

Remembrance Day

For Remembrance Day, this is my maternal grandfather, Alexander Kennel-Webb, who I think was in the 8th (Service) Battalion, Norfolk Regiment. Service battalions were part of Kitchener’s ‘New Army,’ and were raised entirely from volunteers. (My father’s father, James, was a professional soldier; an RSM in The British Indian Army, he returned home during the war to train volunteers like Alexander - I don't have a picture of him in uniform.)