The Last Furlong

Comments on the race of life.


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Oh poor little dog

Bobby, the Furlong dog, was a rescue dog. He’d been handed in by a mother of many children, who was in the middle of a mental breakdown. Continue reading

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The ladies loo

Seen today on a building  in the Lakes.  Continue reading


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Oh no – the election

Oh no – the election – for forty days and forty nights!  Continue reading


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Where is the joy?

I forgot I had scheduled a story over on Gentle Ignition… Continue reading


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The snake and the witchdoctor

I grew up in an area known for its puffadders. Puffadders are dangerous snakes. On our poultry farm, the workers used to shout loudly and my grandmother and grandfather used to have to run to the place the workers identified, with a hoe. Continue reading


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The snake and the candle

This is a family story about a snake but, as many family stories are, it might be a myth. Continue reading


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The rocking chair snake

When I was a little girl, I sawed a snake in half. Continue reading