A goody bag from the funeral director

Poor Jessica Norrie has been suffering from the dreaded lurgy that has been wicked enough to attack several bloggers this last couple of weeks. On a resupply excursion for honey, tissues and strepsils… Jessica came across the sight of a beautiful glass carriage drawn by two black horses.. no she was not hallucinatig about Cinderella but passing a local undertakers… who were celebrating 200 years of fine service to those who have passed.. and their families.. They were giving out goody bags… you need to head over to find out what was in them…

Words and Fictions

I wasn’t well last week, so this post replaces the advertised programme. I said I’d continue blogging about Lisbon writers. But Fernando Pessoa and Joe Saramago demand full attention. When your head and eyes ache, you burn with temperature, and you’re not feeling fit for human consumption, their wonderful words do little more than swim around like the ubiquitous Lisbon sardine.

By Saturday I could venture out, and a local shopping street again gave me a lesson in fundamentals. Once the lesson was about multicultural London; last time it was about birth. This lesson, as if to remind me there’s always someone iller than oneself (my cold had reached the self pitying stage), there was a beautiful pair of black horses, kept still by two top hatted gentlemen in morning coats with an elegant engraved glass carriage behind. All you need for a traditional East End funeral. Funeral 2a better

I prepared to…

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