Monthly Archive: May, 2013

CRASTINUS WAS A CENTURION

I’m aware that I am someone who procrastinates. I put my hand up to that. In fact there is no point denying it. Anybody who knows me well will tell you that I… Continue reading

CEMETERY MUSINGS

Sitting in a cemetery focuses the mind. Early mornings find you musing on the day ahead; and so, early mornings spent musing in cemeteries can, occasionally, give you surprising moments of clarity. I… Continue reading

A FLOCK OF FOODIES

I am late posting today. I have just got back from the wilds of Wiltshire where I spent a delightful evening and breakfast meal with an entirely different sort of country species to… Continue reading

OUTFOXED!

Taxidermy is popular again. You only have to put the word in a search engine to see that. A wonderful variety of websites appear – from the ravishing, intelligent work of Polly Morgan… Continue reading

The revival of anthropomorphic taxidermy

Good stuff – well worth a read !

DEAD ZOO

Considering they are places for the “dear departed” there is nothing dead about a graveyard. It was not until I took to sitting in one regularly that I realised the places are positively… Continue reading

GRAVE CONCERNS

I had not realised that my interest in taxidermy would lead me to start spending time, quite a bit of time in fact, in cemeteries. It is not compulsory for a taxidermist to… Continue reading

URBAN BIRDSONG

Talking of birds makes me think of the dawn chorus; that most English of choirs which cajoles the rural dweller awake each morning with a gentile “tea and toast on a breakfast tray”… Continue reading

THE GASMAN COMETH

Following three days of tuition in York my partner and I prepared to travel home. We were extremely proud of our Jackdaws and had even mounted them naturalistically on carefully chosen pieces of… Continue reading

STILL LIFE

The dead jackdaw was put down on the table in front of me. I had wondered what my reaction would be when this happened, and to my relief it was not repulsion. Neither,… Continue reading