Author Archives: Lance Goodman

Photo by Red Zeppelin on Unsplash When the ice finally retreated about 10,000 years ago, a shadow fell across the land. It was the shadow of the first human. With him or her (history does not record which) came the first stirrings of culture. S/he was part of a small band of hunter gatherers who scoured around lookingContinue reading “The Reason Why”

 Photo by Dan Gold on Unsplash Well, almost always, there were a few exceptions.  The 1970s for example. This was a decade that feasted on the dead corpse of the swinging sixties, like a toothless old man gnaws at the bones of the three day old Christmas turkey who then, when finding that the meat has long gone,Continue reading “I’ve always loved food.”

There is something very comforting about the gentle splattering of rain on the window, especially if that window is double glazed and the room one is sat in, is warm. Beads of water, each with its miniature rainbow, creep down to the sill leaving in its wake a tiny streamlet which twists and turns. TheContinue reading “Upon the Just and the Unjust”

Along with bleeding gums, forced marriage and a winter holiday in Scunthorpe, death is not everyone’s cup of tea. It is probably safe to suggest that most of us will avoid it if we possibly can. Not everyone of course. There are a few who pray for it daily. They will be thinking it bringsContinue reading “Where is Thy Sting?”

…but not to Newcastle, Newquay or Norwich. Flybe collapsed on Thursday. The CEO blamed a snot encrusted cotton handkerchief for the airline’s demise. The offending cloth was found in the air conditioning unit of a Dash 8 Q400 and was responsible for spreading a virus throughout the cabin potentially infecting over 70 people. Mrs AgnesContinue reading “Fly me to the moon”

The BBC today: “Some people are being asked to isolate themselves to prevent the spread of coronavirus”. Ok. My local pub has ‘characters’. The full range of humanity is at times on display, and in the manner of the beasts of the African savannah, they tend to come to the watering hole at different timesContinue reading “Isolation”

Sodding Turmoil In the darkness of the low beamed snug of The Badger and Ferret in Little Sodding, Vicar Tiresomely-Preaching and the Squire, Sir Evershot Strangely-Bottom, sat within a fug of blue grey pipe smoke and two jugs of the session ale ‘Old Tractor’. They sat at a pub table notched and scarred with theContinue reading “Sodding Turmoil”

Once upon a time that were two small villages not too far from each other. Nestling among the Muddlingthrough hills, Much Sodding boasted a farrier, whereas Little Sodding was proud of its brewery. The road connecting the two was a winding, half cobbled, rutted, dung strewn affair. It’s tree lined hedges hid myriad dubious charactersContinue reading “Gullible’s Travels”