I Died Today…

Posted on 31/12/2017 By

I Died Today: Lighting a Candle to Diddley in Norwich Cathedral.

I Died Today… Gor blimey Bobby. Who do you think you are. Shakespeare? This blog is supposed to be fun. Entertaining. Cheerful. Not bleedin miserable. (Sarf London). I Died Today? But, of course, there is a point and a story or two, or three or four. But first, if you are lucky enough, give him…

Little White Bear.

Posted on 24/12/2017 By

Little White Bear: Compton, Surrey (a Bobby drawing).

Little White Bear. COMPETITIONS AFTER STORY. VALUABLE PRIZES! Bertie: “Cor blimey. Wots the matter with you, Little White Bear?” LWB: ”You!” Bertie: ”Wot have I done mate?” LWB: ”Nothing. Nothing at all. We have lived in the same house and shared the same sofa most of the time and you have never spoken to me…

Cotswold Granny.

Posted on 17/12/2017 By

Cotswold Granny: Bisley, where Margaret Long grew up. Always remembering that rural England in those days was true hardship. Nowadays the Cotswolds villages are highly sought after bearing no resemblance to working life a century ago.

Cotswold Granny. It’s very nearly Christmas. Here at Mindfully Bertie we have a very special present for you. Our first book/booklet. Published in its 14 page entirety. Just as it was written in the fair hand of Diddley’s Cotswold Granny. Entitled “Things I Remember”. It’s best read in her beautiful handwriting but, if that is…

The Kitchen Window.

Posted on 10/12/2017 By

The Kitchen Window. But first. Here is our Christmas card for 2017. Bobby was going digital, but realised he liked the tradition of sending cards. There are so many ways now of personalising cards that you don’t have to buy the packs of really boring cards. The charities are complaining that they are missing out….

Small Talk Saves Lives.

Posted on 03/12/2017 By

Small Talk Saves Lives: Wastwater Lake District. A finalist in Landscape Photographer of the Year.

Small Talk Saves Lives. Hasn’t it been a wonderful autumn! Here in the Surrey Hills that surround Laurel Cottage, the beech trees take your breath away. But, as I write this, the temperature is dropping, the wind gathering, followed by the leaves. Or as Eva Cassidy sang… The falling leaves Drift by my window The…