Day 7.3: Albrighton – Jay Cool’s birthplace!

The Dacia takes us from Newport to my birthplace – Signal Lane, Albrighton. I, Jay Cool, was born just over the road from here – in Cosford’s RAF hospital. I look across the lane and can still see the old dark-wooden slats of the one-storey hospital, fronted by a field of waving corn and a…

Day 7.2: Newport – She Who Never Grew Up!

Disclaimer: If you click through to Amazon and choose thereof to make a purchase of any recommended books, I will receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself (surely that’s an incentive?). End up at a pub and start up at a pub. This policy is a favourite of mine and has always worked…

Displaced: A Salopian Hincher in Suffolk

This house – my cave – has never truly hugged me. So, feeling the Hinch, I pick up my flimsy frying-pan turner, and get to work, scraping away the gunk of those who went before. Will this house now feel like a part of me – or, like gunk, do I still need to scrape…

Eating Pies: Book Reviews

*Disclosure:  I only review books that I have selected for my own enjoyment, and the views expressed are, therefore, even if a little batty, completely genuine. You need to be aware, though, that this review has an affiliate link, meaning that if you click through to Amazon, via the book’s image, and choose to make…

Nellie – A Darlaston Wench: Book Review

*Disclosure:  I only review books that I have selected for my own enjoyment, and the views expressed are, therefore, even if a little batty, completely genuine. You need to be aware, though, that this review has an affiliate link, meaning that if you click through to Amazon, via the book’s image, and choose to make…

And God Sat Down

God got to the seventh day, but wasn’t happy – there at the end – on the fringes, so he took three and a half giant steps backwards and sat down to protect his space on a lump of sandstone rock, right there in the middle of Myddle, and he liked what he saw, so he…

Alternative Living

I live far, far away in a cold, cold cave. Curled up, warmed by a horse’s breath. Knowing that, in the morning, I will ride out on my mount and look down at passers by, feeling smug. Pitying them for their dull routines and their motorised lives, as women and men – both – drone…

Day 7:1 This is Wem

Visiting my Webb ancestors in the quagmires of Dawley, yesterday, had to be done. But, although the old souls did their best to evoke a quality setting for a gothic novel (guard your spot on the shelf of Waterstones, closely, Stephanie Meyer!), the experience somehow lacked my No. 1 qualifying criteria as a genealogist’s hotspot….

Day 6.1: The Quarry Man of Myddle

The Gods are urinating (1) this morning, and the sprogs are engrossed in YouTube. A day indoors at The Red Lion’s Lodge? This isn’t really so bad. The luxury leather sofas are more comfortable, by far, than my cheap and many-year’s old Homebase efforts back in Suffolk. I pick up some reading material, force the…

Day 5.4: Bridgnorth Hotspots

You left me down on my knees, in a church in Bridgnorth, asking Jesus for blessings for all and sundry – and you thought that was it? Think again! Granted, it takes me some time to detangle my varicose veins (must fork out for a leg tattoo sometime) from the intricate tapestry I am kneeling…