Memories of place, held on the tongue

Cleobury Mortimer in the valley below Titterstone Clee on a sunny, clear day

I've just finished my bedtime drink. Yes, I know it's late to be posting, where I am, but I've not known what to write about all day. After my drink, I do. The drink? It was hot, organic rice milk, with a dash of honey. I found the taste oddly reminiscent of Horlicks (without the flour residue). And Horlicks, for me, always makes me think of Cleobury Mortimer. It's one of those picturesque villages of the English Midlands, with an almost unbearably twee - but absolutely real, and ancient … [Read more...]


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X