This piece as written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt of 'vault'. Trigger warning: Silliness lurks here. Vault     1. German pronunciation of Walt                 2. Cryptic definition of catacomb (or the smaller version, the kittycomb) (see also megavault – humungous vault and microvault – mother’s handbag)                 3. Be promoted beyond your level … Continue reading Vault – Disambiguation from Wackypedia (Note: Alternative spelling for ‘volt’)

This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of 'range'. Home, home on the range (if you can call a block in a rural village a ‘range’), where the rabbits try to play merry hell with my attempts to grow vegetables (for us) and my wife’s planting of trees and … Continue reading There’s a lot to a range

This piece of nonsense was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of 'meter', which recalcitrant Americans persist in believing is a measure of distance, proving that if you give them an inch they'll take 1.6 kilometres. Cassandra, the Greek patron saint of meterology, was blessed with the ability to take the … Continue reading Cassandra? Never met ‘er.

This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of 'verge'. Explanatory note: In Australia, a suburban garden verge is the strip of land between the footpath (sidewalk, pavement) and the street. Technically this land is owned by the relevant local government authority and some maintain them (e.g. mow the grass) … Continue reading The Sun shines out of Geoffrey’s artichokes

And now for something completely different this week; an historical anecdote. This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of 'eternal'. Arthur Malcolm Stace was born in 1885, brought up by alcoholic parents in poverty that led to stealing bread and milk and searching for scraps of food in bins, … Continue reading The Eternality of Eternity

This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of 'play'. It's basically true, allowing for some poetic license and what time does to memories, and I only publish it as a very poor confession for a thoughtless act. In my callow and thoughtless youth, I was a budding and ambitious … Continue reading A Colonel of truth