Brass Rubbing

My son tried to take a brass rubbing of our cat this morning.  As I entered the kitchen Oliver was in the middle of wiping his wax stained fingers on a grey tea towel with the just discernible legend Morwellham Quay on it.

"Germs, Olif," I said.  The small child looked up at me, wet rag in hand, mouth open catching flies.

An Introduction

Of sorts this is an introduction, the site is a place for me to pull together all the work I do that is published on line. Mostly through linking to it. The site remains in a permanent state of update, as I learn how to improve it and make it more appealing. Do dwell on the gadget at the side that links to my writing, it would be nice to know people were looking at some of it.