greylag Goose

I’ve had two goes at a post and both of them became tedious rants. So I’m now going to have a go at laying 250 words end to end and see what happens. It’s a bit like bricklaying, though not as you may know it. Traditionally, bricklaying involves straight lines, tidy joints and a feeling that you are looking at something that will last for generations.

Bricklaying as I usually do it, is slightly different. My course undulate like a sea with a gentle swell, my joints are  quite clearly the work of an ungifted amateur and you are left with the feeling that it will last, if you are lucky, until you get off the site. It’s a skill I never quite mastered.

And that’s what you are going to see on this page. Two hundred and fifty words which undulate and zig-zag and give the impression they are about o fall down at any time.

Canada Goose

Did you know there was such a thing as Brick Tax at one time in the UK? It should be more widely known as it’s such a bizarre thing. It lead, for instance, to laws defining the size of a brick, as people started using bigger bricks to avoid paying so much tax. It’s a fascinating subject once you get into it. I will now be looking out for houses with bigger bricks so I can bore Julia with tales of brick tax. That’s also why they have thatched mud walls in Whittlesey, a small town about 10 miles from here. I have pictured it in the blog before.

And there you go – two false starts on political subjects are swept aside by a post featuring anecdotes about my awful bricklaying  and trivia about bricks. Sometimes I wonder why I bother . . .

Egyptian Goose