Classic Cars

I’ve always been curious about what happened to our old family cars, I found a site called RegArchive, no it’s nothing to do with archiving Reg, it’s a database you can search to see if you can find your old car. Sadly no information for any of my dad’s old cars could be found, so as it has the option to upload a photo with the registration, that’s just what I did. Here are the 5 pics, maybe one day someone will come forward and say they restored one of these old classic cars!




Health & Safety Issues

Just found this in the pictures I digitised from my dad’s slides, well tried to digitise, the slides are in an appalling condition.


Yes the picture is the right way up, yes I am upside down in a kids playground and YES that is concrete underneath my head. I’m not sure what happened after the picture was taken, but being dropped on my head as a kid would explain an awful lot!!

PS: Please do not try this at home!!

The Man Who Fell To Earth


As a child I had no friends, I was considered weird, a freak, scary, I felt so alone, I was too young to be able to embrace my unique abilities, didn’t even understand them. Then David Bowie appeared as if from outer space and suddenly I found someone who I could relate to. This wasn’t a typical pop star crush, this went far deeper, through his awesome songs I learned to embrace my personal weird.

So when I woke up and read the news this morning, I cried my heart out, I felt as if I’d lost a dear friend, I obviously never met him, or went to a concert, but his music touched my soul. Enough said.

Early morning snail

I had just started giving the breakfast pots their morning ablutions and decided some fresh air was in order. I therefore reached to shove the kitchen window wide open.

Lucky it wasn’t too chilly a morning today; otherwise, I might have pulled the window shut instead, giving it a healthy slam (to counteract inertia, of course 🙂 )…

…which would not have been in the best interests of this morning’s visitor, who may well have been dislodged in the process.

‘Come here quickly!’ I called to Shana. ‘And bring the camera too!’

She need not have rushed, though. Our visitor was in no hurry.


‘At least you won’t get any motion blur taking this picture,’ I said. ‘And there’s no need for a stopwatch feature either.’

Just then, our snail visitor, twenty feet above ground on the grimy ledge at Waffle Towers, chose to make a break for it, like a hoodlum fleeing a bank heist. You could almost hear the screech of tyres.

Or perhaps not.

‘He’s beating a hasty retreat,’ I persisted, lamely. And with that, our little snail made his way to the corner of the outer ledge, where he tucked himself in, out of the way of hungry birds, and settled down to wait for the safety of evening before slithering off, presumably trying to get himself onto as many people’s blogs as possible.