Many years ago, we had to move my Grandad and Grandma Minchin out of their house in Thorney Abbey Rd Blidworth to their final residence in a nursing home. Grandma had become frail and Grandad too ill to climb the stairs to bed. Neither of them really wanted to leave their home.
I don’t know what triggers some memories, but this one popped into my mind while reading a totally unrelated post, closely followed by another similar recollection. Both memories are worthy of recording because they played a monumental role in my childhood development. Continue reading
Ask any child what their favourite toy was, and i’m sure they will produce a list a mile long. I’m no different. Like most children, my toys would transport me into totally different worlds; even to this day I marvel at the human mind’s ability to create a whole environment, holodeck style, invisible to all but the young boy clasping the toy in his hand; how a small piece of plastic or metal can trigger such wonderful fantasies…
Robert Minchin, born 26 Python Hill Rd, Rainworth, 20th June 1960, about 1 p.m..
I know this first hand, I was there! Continue reading
Hiding in a large cardboard box with a few hundred or maybe thousand photos in it, there is a photo of a young boy holding two bottles of beer.
I can remember that quite clearly, at Uncle Bert’s a friend of Dad’s from work. On this particular occasion Dad and Bert had a drink in the parlour and I was sent to fetch them two bottles, which I collected from a wicker shopping basket outside in the hall.
I started this short blog with the intention of merging three diverging themes.
This is the third theme. Continue reading
Getting to the point is taking longer than I thought.
I didn’t want to turn this into a chronological holiday list so I will now summarise the next twenty years or so. Continue reading
Where was I? Oh yes, my girlfriend and I (very royal) were about to embark on our first adventure together. “Starways” fulfilled many tickboxes. Continue reading
I find myself tonight struggling with the meaning of life, the universe and everything.
Well, perhaps not everything. I’ve just read something that started some sort of sub-conscious echo – no, that’s not it – a resonance. A similar feeling of futility maybe, but on a different level, in a different thread of life. Continue reading
45 miles to empty tank... 