The summers of my youth, when the most avant-garde experience might have been listening to a trad-jazz combo in the park. And if the sun was shining, they might even hang their jackets up and perform in their shirt sleeves. Ah, the swinging sixties.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Facing Up To Halifax
Someone told me the other evening that I was responsible for them looking up whenever they walked around Halifax. As long as one keeps half ...
-
I've no idea who the child is or why the donkey seems to have lost its head, but that doesn't matter. It's just one of the pri... -
Y ou can spend too long sat inside reading old newspapers and cataloguing old postcards. There comes a time in the affairs of man when he s...
No comments:
Post a Comment