Flags and why the British one so often drives me nuts.
Circumstance took me back to the UK just before Christmas; a landmark birthday on it had me stay to spend it with mother, who lives in Chard; a place located in deep and darkest Somerset.
By choice celebrations would start with friends on Christmas Eve; a visit to the pub with a massive Continue reading
Part I: Getting the Filthy Fags Out the Way First
(in which is included a FREE inspiring message of encouragement to anyone trying to knock tobacco on the head)
A short story about the memories a beautiful summer can bring. Continue reading