The line of residents, clutching an assortment of junk that, on any other day, would’ve been left anonymously on the doorstep of our sole charity shop, snaked over the stately home’s manicured lawn.Read
“Apart from that one day,” gushed our tanned hostess, clicking to another piggin’ image of their holiday apartment bathroom, the basin bedecked with lotus petals, “it was the break of a lifetime.”Read
Sir, I have sent you this poem I wrote some time ago, about the old Hednesford, when it was a great place to be. It was very proud of its heritage (and still should be). A great social meeting place. Where everyone almost knew everyone.Read
Sir, Hip, hip hooray a thousand times for Derek Evans, the man who mowed graves at Cannock Cemetery. He’s not doing any harm at all. I say, good on ya.Read