A union of poet and painter

SATURDAYS were no fun when Mum was on shift. She’d made it clear that while she was at the hospital, whoever was left in the house was expected to get on with all the jobs that had to be done. Today t

NOTHING to report, Grant, except the usual niggles with the coal delivery. “Here, have a cup before I go.” “Thanks, Jim. I’m fair parched.” Grant removed his bicycle clips and accepted the proffered t

The poet’s exasperation with his provincial upbringing

The skills your horse learns on the hunting field can equip him for a surprising array of summer disciplines, finds Tessa Waugh

Can you help Sergeant Jim Jones solve a ...

A tree bunny put on Facebook by the Small Press Rescue Centre. We are always glad to receive pictures of spontaneous forms and figures, or any curious images. Send them (with your postal address) to F