Jo Grindley

I was just writing to Kelly when I came across a phrase that got me thinking. “Passed with flying colours”. So, anyone know the origins of this phrase?
I know that a flag used to be called your “colours” so “flying colours” could refer to a flag. The image I have stuck in my head is [...]

When the tide is out the coastline has a desolate feel to it, one of repeated abandonment. Boats are strewn about, stuck where they are until the moon pulls the ocean water back and allows them to sail away once more, only to get abandoned again a few hours later. The combined smell of drying [...]

So, tomorrow I’m off to Leigh-on-Sea in Essex. Directly east from London, along the coast, as the crow flies. I’ll be helping a more experienced carer look after a little old lady in her home…

Once I caught a fish alive. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, then I let it go again. No, I’m not singing nursery rhymes! I’m carrying on my analogy from my post “just keep swimming”.