Ode to MODERNA “Grab ’em and jab ’em”’s our modus operandiand so far it’s proved – a nice little earner –no matter how many come a cropper and die,your coffins - our coffers – are full from MODERNA. We grab ’em and jab ’em and prick ’em and stick ’emand send ’em away with a... Continue Reading →

Death of the Old Year

Tennyson's Death of the Old Year was bubbling over with gaiety and the last verse, reproduced below, is the most foreboding verse of all. The Old Year on its death-bed was personified as having been a great 365/6 days in which to have lived, at least for the narrator. "He was full of joke and... Continue Reading →

Half a mind on Christmas

For Gladys Hotchkiss Christmas comes splitting post, ream or quire, the Yule log is spitting with sparks from the fire. Grandma is sitting her mind quite a mire of washdays and knitting of childhood desire. Yellows, blues, pinks a young girl again coloured gummed links then a paper chain of trimmings. She blinks ― her... Continue Reading →

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