pferguson | December 24, 2021
The bells had fallen…hum, prime, tierce and quint… It was well past Remembrance Sunday. MacKendricks sat at the small round table and reattached each medal to the fabric backing. These were his medals, each ribbon with the small brass pins his wife had sewn on many years ago. How long ago was it he thought…her […]
pferguson | May 29, 2019
A late night to be sure Trees hang over the road…this way home. Dark as those that absorb all light, blue-black sky, silver ripples bared across the water. To write of the night…the dark…exceptional stillness, save for scampering thoughts. This night I have been, watched and listened. I have seen trees as witnesses, branches as […]
pferguson | December 14, 2017
The Christmas Card and the Table Imagine please, if you will, MacKendricks. Chuntering as he did in the sanctity of his space MacKendricks had outlived – all family, all friends. Each day a similar caned path to The Thistle where with pewter near to hand he sat at an edge-worn, darkened wise table carved deep […]
pferguson | August 10, 2013
Dad’s Army: Part II After posting the last blog and sitting back and allowing the little grey cells to wander it occurred to me that Dad’s Army must have explored the bagpipes. Sure enough with a little bit of searching we have managed to find the clip from If the Cap Fits included here for your […]
pferguson | January 27, 2012
As I wander about, at the start of my day, I inevitably look upon the cracked concrete slab of the parkade and allow myself to drift. I follow the lines in their contortions and soon find myself turning to a great adventure. I am reminded of Burton and Speke, the Mountains of the Moon and […]
