There are some weeks I enjoy then there are others I really enjoy and this past week falls into the latter category.
It’s been a week of writing, research and reporting; not for the first time have I wondered why I didn’t pursue a career in journalism but thereby hangs another tale…if ifs and ands were pots and pans.
The summer of ’76, that’s the hottest summer on record, that could well be until the summer of ’18 which is proving to be blisteringly warm, it has been more than a little tempting to go for a quick dip, but there has, as always, been masses going on and to add to the mix we’ve had a work experience girl with us.
There’s one thing for sure when it comes to the diverse range of activities that go on at the Marine Theatre, no sooner has your day begun than it suddenly comes to an end; the days literally fly by. But
Things don’t always go to plan and Robert Burns’ poem to a mouse sums it up so perfectly; more often than not misquoted, the meaning is clear The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft agley I predicted a hung
When you live in a beautiful place like Lyme Regis you have to accept there is an occasional minor downside; during the holiday season, everyone who doesn’t live nearby descends on this small seaside resort and the population, vehicle and coach
World War II has been credited with aiding their global popularity. When I was at school they were right up there alongside Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Enid Blyton; those unpardonable shocking icons of an era when any suggestion of slacking
Fifteen different pills, that’s FIFTEEN pills each day for one person; that’s what the dear old man I saw slowly shuffling into the doctors’ surgery takes to keep going. We’re not living longer; we’re being pickled by the pharmaceutical corporations
I can’t remember when the shops first started to sell fireworks to the general public, maybe it happened gradually with the likes of Tesco and Sainsbury’s along with most of the DIY chains seeing an opportunity to take a share