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Not Being Welsh
Almost all of the time, I’m not Welsh, but on December 2nd, I was Welsh for the entire day. I was Welsh walking the spaniels early with my sister-in-law by the sea. I was Welsh on the train with my brother and nephew from Llanelli to Cardiff amongst assorted Welsh fans dressed as leeks, daffodils Continue reading
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Impending Doom
My wife and I were recently in Italy. It was a last minute thing, taking advantage of the fact that our daughter was away with her school. So at short notice I found myself standing on the worn streets of Pompeii, somewhere I’d always wanted to go without believing I ever would. Like most people, Continue reading
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Beneath the Bronze
The American Civil War statue debate seems to have dropped below the news threshold, at least on this side of the Atlantic. Unless there’s a full blown confrontation, guns and placards on show, madmen reversing cars over people, then it’s not worthy of our collective time. I shouldn’t really call it a debate: it’s more Continue reading
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Hindfulness
The battle of Chickamauga, Georgia, just across the state line from Chattanooga, was principally fought on the 19th and 20th of September, 1863. I could barely say the word Chickamauga five years ago; now it’s a place to which I feel strongly attached. I wrote about it in my masters’ dissertation and it is the main set Continue reading
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A Room Without a View
36 ° 6’ N, 4 ° 44’ W. This is where I was when I finished my second novel, The Copper Road. I always like to know where I am. My first degree was in geography so perhaps that’s why. I finished the book on August 28th. For me, the when is not quite so important, although I do like Continue reading
Shire's Union 