charles barrow's writing

We have a saying in our family, if someone is being restless and can't settle to anything, 'You're just like Jim Hay's dog.' Apparently the dog always wanted to be somewhere else; outside if he was inside, inside if he was out. Actually, I've not heard it said for a long time. It was something my father, and my grandmother and grandfather, used to say. It definitely came from that side of the family. I was thinking of my dad recently on what would have been his 88th birthday, he died at the age of 72. I was wondering how long he would be remembered. They do say that no one really dies while they live on in someone's memory. It's a comforting thought. My dad will go on while my siblings and I remember him. And he has four grandchildren that would remember him too, and two that wouldn't. So the memory of him is secure for a good few decades yet. Hopefully. Jim Hay I never met, and I don't even know whether he was someone that my dad met, or may...

I took a trip to the zoo. A friend told me it seemed a very retro thing to do, and so it was I suppose. I remember a visit to London Zoo when I was a youngster although, oddly, it's the crowds of people I recall rather than the animals. On this recent visit I was taken with the big cats, as opposed to being taken by the big cats, which is a rather different thing altogether and one which stirred another retro memory. I recently re-read some Ray Bradbury short stories, amongst them a tale called The Veldt. I won't spoil the ending if you haven't read it, but it involves some creepy kids, some far future technology and a pride of lions on the open grasslands of Africa. This story made quite an impression on my young mind that has stayed with me down the years, so it was interesting to return to it recently and discover that, while it had lost some of its power to unsettle it was still enjoyable none-the-less. And thoughts of it returned to me as I strolled around the big...