I recently had a message from a friend asking whether my short story ‘The Ice House’ had ever been published. Well, yes and no. It was read aloud to …A Ghost Story for Christmas
I love this photo by Arthur Leipzig of children looking at Christmas toys in 1944. The little girl at the bottom looks like she just can’t stand the allure, I think I’d have to buy her something.
Anyway, have a great weekend everybody, Christmas is a week today.
I hope you get all you wish for. Be careful what you wish for.
See you on the flip side.
I’m not very good at self-promotion, in fact I’m a publisher’s nightmare, but as it’s that time of year again when people are looking for gifts for themselves or for others, below you’ll find the link to my Amazon page.
If you check it out you’ll find my two poetry collections, Heading North and In Brigantia, along with a couple of anthologies I have some fiction in. If anyone wants to buy anything I’ll love you forever. If anyone doesn’t want to buy anything I’ll love you forever too. I’m kind of promiscuous that way.
We’d had a good morning, considering we are currently in the midst of Tier 3 Covid restrictions, having found a place where we could (legally) sit in for a few coffees. In the afternoon, Jen and I sat in the car outside my daughter’s high school, waiting for her to come out.
Jen: I think we are going to have to go shopping once we get back
Me: Aw no
Jen: We haven’t got that much in
Me: Let’s leave it ’til tomorrow
Jen: It’ll be too much messing tomorrow, we’ve got a lot on
Me: We’ll go in the morning
Jen: Today would be better
Me: Naw, it’s my birthday today
Jen: Life doesn’t stop because it’s your birthday. I worked on my birthday
Me: I don’t want to go shopping on my birthday. It could be my last ever birthday. Some day it will be my last ever birthday
Jen: Then you’ll always remember it
Me: Not if death brings only sleep
A fragile, frosty morning, with the Warwick Mill intangibly framed against the dawn sky.
I took this photograph yesterday; today I awoke to rain. And you know how cold rain in December can be.
The Warwick Mill is an empty shell, surviving changing times and the neglect of abandonment. But for how long? The target of children and arsonists, it is the relic of a time when my town was a cotton town, employing hundreds of local people over many years. Today, if it was closer to Manchester, it would undoubtedly house converted apartments.
Instead, it houses pigeons and rats. But for now it’s still with us, and who knows what the future holds?
Speaking of the future:
Having been short on good news lately, there was such a lift today in learning that this December day is not only Tuesday, it is also V-Day. I’m not sure if the ‘V’ is for victory or vaccination, but they are both going hand in hand, anyway.
A 90-year-old grandmother this morning became the first person to receive the new Covid-19 vaccine. She was all over the news, sat in hospital having her jab while, symbolising the restored festive feel, wearing her Christmas jumper.
What a multi-cultural collaboration it has been to get here. The drug is from a US pharmaceutical company, the scientist behind it a Turkish immigrant to Germany, it’s manufactured in Belgium and our UK regulator is the first to approve it.
All of that ingenuity and endeavour and cross border co-operation has delivered.
I cannot remember the name of the woman who as first in the queue without googling, but I do remember the second patient: William Shakespeare! Not only William Shakespeare, but William Shakespeare of Warwickshire!
How’s that for a Winter’s Tale?
When asked how it went, I’d have really loved it if hed have replied “It was much ado about nothing,”
But still, at this time of year, the end of a cold and sorely taxing year, while the hours of darkness are deepening, there can also be discerned a shining light, a light that is slowly growing. A light that is heralding the hopes of a nation, coming with us through a gateway into a bright new start.
Imagine Lennon today. He’d have been brilliant on Twitter.
Also for your perusal, an earlier City Jackdaw post about cosmic connections: Lennon, Morrison, and me:
The second person in the UK to receive the new Covid-19 virus is called William Shakespeare, from Warwickshire. Just how long has he been waiting?
The first day after the lockdown and Jen decided to brave Manchester for some Christmas shopping, taking me with her in tow.
I’m not sure if it’s because of the mask I’m wearing but I feel paranoid, as though every shop I go in someone is either looking at, or speaking about, me.
What do you think?
Anyway, have a great weekend everybody. Don’t forget to wash.
See you on the flip side.
Christmas is coming, when Nancy Reagan can sit on Mr T’s knee and it doesn’t make The Sun.