Dear Theo,

I long to write to you again, perhaps it will be a rather long time before we see each other; at all events I hope we shall be in Etten together at Christmas. It was Aunt Mina's birthday last Sunday, and being there that evening, Uncle Stricker asked me a few things about my work, and did not seem to be dissatisfied… I feel that I have made some progress.

Thursday I had a nice morning; Uncle Jan had gone to Utrecht, and I had to be at Stricker's at seven o'clock because Jan was going to Paris and I had promised to see him o f. So I got up early and saw the workmen arrive in the yard while the sun was shining brightly. You would be intrigued by the sight - that long line of black figures, big and small, first in the narrow street where the sun just peeps in, and later in the yard. Then I breakfasted on a piece of dry bread and a glass of beer

The Old Field House

Things from Life in the Death of a Man

illustrations: Federico Garcia Lorca, 5 June 1898 - 19 August 1936

Poodles by Susan Tepper

The Spanish American War and The Cuban War for Independence by Diana Ferraro

Lately by Neil Dyer

Our Grandson Seeks the Snow and His Mother in Milwaukee by Tobi Cogswell

The Task by Maureen Wilkinson

Crossing the Pond by Charlie Britten

Magic Mirror by Nathan E. Tavaras

Snowman by Heidi Heimler

Ocotillo Wells by W.F. Lantry,

Rare Glimpse by James Claffey/The Old Man travels home on the ferry from Stranraer, catching the night train in Belfast and arriving in time for breakfast. Mam is grilling Denny sausages and Galtee rashers ...

Freckles by Kim Teeple

Don’t Even Think About It by Tobi Cogswell

The Haunting by Holly Day

Korean Echo by Tom Sheehan

Slemish, Ballymeana and Beyond
Slemish Mountain dominates the landscape around Ballymena and whenever I see it I know I’m home. Seen from the town, it has the shape of a nurturing breast. And in a way it did give birth to the Antrim Plateau and therefore the town itself. It is an extinct volcano plug -- Oonah Joslin

A Fresh Start by Marion Clarke

A hanging gannet eyes-up breakfast,/sunshine strains in a bruised blue sky./Dirty waves stumble, nudging each other/in an empty game of rough and tumble.

The Things in Life in the Death of a Man --Are we starting to emerge from the Middle Ages? it is a long step. Certain aspects and places have changed a lot, in others almost nothing. Distances sometimes are huge and our city-man has his routes in a faraway village; he returns periodically, revisits old childhood memories. --Tuninetti

Lough Reflections by Marion Clarke

The wind runs in ripples along Carlingford Lough, a shadow cast by a flock of invisible birds. On the shore, strands of kelp wave and flip in the briny breeze, like the fat brown eels of my rock pool childhood.