The breeze moves the leaves on the wisteria above the window, he barks… a magpie lands on the opposite neighbour’s front steps, he barks… a bug walks across the front path, so tiny I can barely see it, he barks… any movement of any sort by anything and he barks at it.
Nationally Syndicated Editorial Cartoonist
Letters from the women in my family to their mothers from 1910-1980.
The art of losing
The Life and Times of a retired Soldier, Boxer, Pilot, Husband, Father and Grandfather
tales of untruths
My adventures in trail running and awkward socials
Dear Diary... 