There is a quiet thunder where the Hodder and Ribble ram. You feel it more than hear it. There’s a constant wet tumbling, but also a silent thudding, sensed more than detected. It was the only place to go to determine what should be done.
Confluence
Author: Pete Hartley
Former drama teacher, fringe theatre producer and director, and author of novels, short stories and some non-fiction work. I now hawk my output under the moniker of uneasybooks.
2020 Hindsight
It was uncomfortable to read that some people half my age were happy for me to be slowly suffocated so that they might “get our lives back”. They seemed content that I might receive my last orders so that they could get served at the bar a little sooner. They didn’t put it like that, … Continue reading 2020 Hindsight
Strictly speaking
Three reasons why the high-kicking sparkly show wins Who would have thought that, two decades into the twenty-first century, the competitive execution of slow and quick dance steps could secure the coveted Saturday evening audience crown for the BBC? Perhaps it’s because we’ve been tuning in for hundreds of thousands of years. The first ever … Continue reading Strictly speaking
Edisford Bridge
Painted by Turner One drawback of my father’s occupation as a self-employed milk deliveryman was that we never went on holiday in a conventional sense. A compensatory benefit was that, because he finished his round by about one p.m., half-day trips were possible whenever the weather was benevolent. He’d give me the choice: we could … Continue reading Edisford Bridge
Lanier’s Pale Man
Emilier Lanier, certain poet and possible muse Emilia Lanier (1569–1645) is acknowledged as the first Englishwoman to be published as a professional poet. Her only collection was printed in 1611. Some academics cite her as a prime candidate for Shakespeare’s Dark Lady, suggesting that she may have had a Mediterranean or African heritage. Some even … Continue reading Lanier’s Pale Man
Savouring Strawbs
An appreciation of the the music of the British rock band the Strawbs.
Tasting the pie in the sky
Flying solo at seventeen.
Just to instil confidence the station fire engine trundled up and parked alongside the runway. I radioed for permission, taxied onto the runway, opened up the throttle and released the breaks.
That first solo on 29th August 1974 was the beginning of the end of a dream.
My nose has no dog
but it smells as fine as any canine The solution to controlling the coronavirus could be staring us in the face every time we lock eyes with a dog. Medical Detection Dogs is a charity that supplies dogs to sniff out the tell-tale signs of ailments including cancer, type 1 diabetes, Parkinson’s disease and malaria. … Continue reading My nose has no dog
The New Norman
Thirteen lessons from the contagion invasion.
The Godot Replacement Service
The wait will be over when the beginners please.
A prompt to re-start theatre after Covid-19 lockdown.
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