The nights are drawing in…

…and at Shambala, where flowers grow large and fine poets thrive, my festival season drew to a close. The poets included the tireless Dreadlockalien, topical Pete the Temp, regal Jean Binta Breeze and… er… me. Here are my legs, appearing (with me) on the Compass of Lunacy stage before an audience of chortling punters. If

The Lettuce Eaters

I know, late again. Sorry. July is a mad month, always full of work and pleasure – I’ve missed my Sunday deadline twice, and will do again next week. Normal service will resume in August. Meanwhile, in this week’s episode: Rehearsals of my play (now called First Person, and no longer Aching for Dick) began