Tag Archives: story

The House that Fish Built: Connor Cruel Crest…

* The house that Father Fish built was constructed in this way: it had nine compartments from fire place to wall, with each facade made of bronze, standing thirty feet high; it took a wagon team to haul each beam, … Continue reading

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Calanais…

* Given that we had never really expected to get there, once on the Isle of Lewis, we became quite blase about our arrival, and stopped for a kip and a snack, in a passing point, on the way into … Continue reading

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The House that Fish Built…

* … No smoke from the roof-rounds of Albion without tribute to them… A tribute on the Quern. A tribute on the Kneading Trough. A tribute on the Baking Flags… An ounce of gold for every nose North, South, East … Continue reading

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Dear Wen: Extrusions…

Dear Wen… Well, I regard that as a tad unfair seeing as though my slug trails aren’t actually slug trails at all. I quite like slugs anyway… admittedly it is not ideal to have herds of them wandering about the … Continue reading

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Tails from Westley Piddle: Donuts – Part One, from Zozo and Jools at Usual Muttwits

Reblogged from Muttwits: Scratch are on the rise.  A nightmarish cross between furry little doggies and sharp-clawed killing machines.  They’re invading Westley Piddle and something’s gotta be done.  Donuts, the rugby-loving Welsh Terrier, decides enough is enough – at the … Continue reading

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Callanish Calling: Port Uig…

* I have fond memories of Holyhead and the ferry to Dublin. * These may, it is true, be now rose-tinted by time, but I am sure that there is a pub in which we enjoyed lunch and a couple … Continue reading

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Dear Don: Extrusions…

Dear Don, I am, of course, blaming your ‘extrusions’ for the silvery exudations that now make an argent tracery across my threshold. Slug Town? Yeah… they all seem to be coming in to see me the past couple of weeks … Continue reading

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Callanish Calling: Millennial Stone…

* After our sojourn at the Off Road Inn we tried Portree again but although we managed to get a park this time, as we prepared to exit our Red-Pill-Box, the heavens opened… * Continue reading at France and Vincent

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Callanish Calling: Riddle…

* Back in the relative sanctuary of our Red-Pill-Box, Wen looked at me hopefully and said, “You did make a note of the riddle didn’t you?” * “As it is all that now stands between us and oblivion, my dearest … Continue reading

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Callanish Calling: Way-Stone…

* Given that, by all accounts, the Way-Stone was capable of getting us to the morn, we wasted no time in putting the question… * And were met with a road length peal of laughter, quite light and silvery it … Continue reading

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