Cats and dogs were falling from the sky that lunch time. Falling so heavily that they were bouncing back off the pavement as we hurried back to school. We were not happy as there was a long way to go. And the rain did not look like stopping before Christmas. There were three of us, all neighbours, all wishing we didn't have to go back to school - ever again. There was me and D, and T. As we were about to make the turn onto the first of several very long streets that would take us there, T ...

It never ceases to amaze me the conclusions that people draw from statistics. For instance, I heard on tv today about how nobody is reading books written by women any more. The reasoning behind this claim is that in a survey, 4 out of every 5 men interviewed said that the last book they read was by a man. Mmmm. What about the last but one book they read? Or the book before that? Maybe the 10 books previous to the last read by these men were written by women. Wouldn't that give a differe...

As well as Cowboys and Indians, we also played marbles a lot as kids. We played at home and we played at school even though the teachers always threatened to take the marbles away - something about them being dangerous. Anyway, back in Primary school (P4 - which made me about 9), we were all settling back into class after lunch. Apart from one boy - I think his name was Peter - who was busy playing with his marbles. He kept throwing one in the air and catching it in his mouth before spitti...

As I add to this blog, I hope to give some insight into my background and life. Some items will be humourous, others less so. But whatever you may read, I'd advise you to keep some salt on hand as you will ceratinly need to use the odd pinch or two. Anyway, this is apparently a true story... On the street where I grew up, there were three families living in a row of three houses. My family lived in the first house (mum, dad, 2 boys and 2 girls, white with a Chruch of Scotland background). ...

Cats and dogs were falling from the sky that lunch time. Falling so heavily that they were bouncing back off the pavement as we hurried back to school. We were not happy as there was a long way to go. And the rain did not look like stopping before Christmas. There were three of us, all neighbours, all wishing we didn't have to go back to school - ever again. There was me and D, and T. As we were about to make the turn onto the first of several very long streets that would take us there, T ...

It never ceases to amaze me the conclusions that people draw from statistics. For instance, I heard on tv today about how nobody is reading books written by women any more. The reasoning behind this claim is that in a survey, 4 out of every 5 men interviewed said that the last book they read was by a man. Mmmm. What about the last but one book they read? Or the book before that? Maybe the 10 books previous to the last read by these men were written by women. Wouldn't that give a differe...

As well as Cowboys and Indians, we also played marbles a lot as kids. We played at home and we played at school even though the teachers always threatened to take the marbles away - something about them being dangerous. Anyway, back in Primary school (P4 - which made me about 9), we were all settling back into class after lunch. Apart from one boy - I think his name was Peter - who was busy playing with his marbles. He kept throwing one in the air and catching it in his mouth before spitti...

As I add to this blog, I hope to give some insight into my background and life. Some items will be humourous, others less so. But whatever you may read, I'd advise you to keep some salt on hand as you will ceratinly need to use the odd pinch or two. Anyway, this is apparently a true story... On the street where I grew up, there were three families living in a row of three houses. My family lived in the first house (mum, dad, 2 boys and 2 girls, white with a Chruch of Scotland background). ...