The End of the PA

The village public address system has fallen silent. There used to be twice-weekly announcements over the PA telling of shop opening times,

Life with no doors

I’m listening to a Czech version of Stupid Cupid Stop Picking On Me. I am a reluctant listener, but the builders’ radio is very loud.

Build and Billed

The man who was making our new garden door phoned. He would deliver it tomorrow, mid-morning. He duly turned up at 6.30.

The Wren and the Ghosts

As I opened the door to the kitchen corridor, the wren zipped through to the dining room at the far end, her wings purring past my ear.

Of Mice and Zen

With snow piling up in the attic, a frozen loo, holes in the wall wide enough to admit a decent sized bear, it was a proper winter.

Out in the Cold

Born with a plastic spoon rather than a silver one, I’d not had the opportunity before to see how easy it is to spend a huge amount of money

Ghosts in the Attic

The attic of our 1720 former pub yielded a few treasures, mostly buried under mounds of hay and wood, or tucked under the floorboards.

How to Destroy a House

When the roofers finally moved in, the moody, wet summer had turned into an even moodier, positively flooded autumn.