There were always men at the farm, playing around with cars and tractors. We were used to bits and pieces of them lying around the place. Mostly they were old cars that they did up. I began young learning the language of cars, tractors, and various bits of machinery. It was quite fascinating. I soon learned that it was bad if they said,
“The big end has gone,” or “The ENGINE is knackered.” That would give rise to much doom and gloom and shaking of heads and looking down at the floor. But these were happy days and I remember them so well.
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Published by grumpygorman
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...
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