John T

Jill, the Den’s Activity Page posts extracts changes (replies, new topics etc) from the public sections of the Den. You replied directly to the Activity Page version of this thread – you can check by selecting “Activity” from the menu at the top of all the Den’s pages. It’s all still there, although you’ll need to scroll a *long* way as my…[Read more]

Thank TOY Ath foc comp and commentryand well done to all of us for so vividly  evoking childhoods now past, I  particularly enjoyed Ath’s reference to radio – ours was a brown 18″B Bakelite cube which was only allowed into our bedrooms when we were sick (and often. it seemed. Luxembourg sicker. Looking forward to Libby’s comp for August.

Jill’s entry grabbed my attention straight away, because although my own childhood was a few years later, so much was the same. And yes, all the shops shut. In fact, almost everything shut on a Sunday apart from Church and Sunday School. “Hear the pennies dropping” for those who remember it. So much centered on the home back then. A wonderful…[Read more]

Don’t mind at all; hope fulfilling demands not too onerous.

A brace of fabulous entries this month. Real life has struck at an awkward moment with silly demands on time. I hope you won’t mind too much If I pinch a day from the next comp. and post the results tomorrow evening. So sorry about that.

Many congratulations, Libby x

There’s a word for it!

The much faded five inch Quality Street tin I inherited from my mother is near-filled with  buttons, their variety in part due to them having been donated by my aunt Muriel, who was a dressmaker and her mother Dora who was a tailoress. Needless to say, had there been such, I would’ve won ‘best-dressed child’ many a time had…[Read more]

Echoes of a life twinkling in time.

As years roll away from me I look back at reflections caught in memories rainbow.

I know I was lucky. My childhood was idyllic, because woven among the colours of my life and simplicity of youth, the feelings of each moment are held, perfect and bright, like small lights of sheltering warmth against the…[Read more]

Dear All,

Please note that this doesn’t have to be about an object. From the theme up there (points up) “an object, or an event, or a saying, or anything at all really that you remember as commonplace when you were young”

Me too, Sandra,  mine’s a  green one . I also have  my  grandparents  twisted  metal  meat  skewers  too.  🙂

Well done, Jill – the only inspiration I’d had so far, came from my mother’s mincer (of which I’ve a 1960’s version in a cupboard. Back to the drawing board for me  🙂

Thank you, Jill. I forgot to set a word limit, so I take your entry as “the bar” and set it now at 400 words.

Incidentally, I wanted to call the girl Aelfwin but I had trouble getting the A and e to combine into a proper “ash” at the start of the name. Then it occurred to me that a drunk Teabreak would be unlikely to remember that anyway, hence “Alwin, or something like that.” I think Alwin is still sometimes used as a female name, but I could probably…[Read more]

Hooray!! Well done Ath for your last minute, colourful Teabreak entry thus rescuing me from having to devise July’s competition  and thank you Jill. for your kind words re ‘Snap is not a Children’s Game’, adding impetus to my getting on with it.

I confess I feel slightly guilty. I read Sandra’s entry and thought it was splendid. Then I sneak in at the end and…

Anyway, thank you for the prompt, Jill. The solstice was my 70th and I went from not thinking I’d make it, to writing a little story about it so that’s something.

Stonehenge

The moon has departed leaving an impenetrable night with a cold mist gently rising across the still fields around Amesbury. In the hedgerows around one expanse of grass, sparrows packed close are beginning to shift in their sleep. To the east of this field a steady gaze would be rewarded with the slightest bloom of purple in a world…[Read more]

<h3>Prior to the magic going black</h3>
<h3>June 23rd, Caithness</h3>
 

Pre-dawn on a midsummer morning, Tait Duncan, drove  south-east along an A1 empty of all but Highlands-bound supermarket wagons, conscience similarly uncluttered by the lie he’d last night told his wife as to the reason for his early morning departure. (In what had become th…[Read more]