When we’re not knocking down trees, unbunging sewers or generally fixing up our Victorian estate, we take to the sea in boats. And once the final cast has gone ‘splosh’, our hope is to end up at Fiddlers Green; a legendary afterlife filled with perpetual mirth, a fiddle that never stops playing and dancers who never tire.
Published by Graham O'Neill
Graham generally sees the funny side of life, which is just as well as he spent 35 years working for the telephone company. He started scuba diving with the British Subaqua Club at the age of 16, rode horses through his 20's, became an obsessive windsurfer in his 30's and had a go at free-diving in his 40's. While all of this was going on he rode a bike to keep fit and get to the pub. In later life, in an effort to stave off dementia he has taken up singing and dancing. You may see short stories about these pursuits, but don't expect to read about any degree of prowess as the experiences he can still remember generally relate to (in order) getting bent, crashing a horse (yes, crashing, not just falling off), Windsurfing stupidly in a storm 10, wreck diving without an aqualung, time-trialling with a hangover, singing out of tune and falling on his arse (dancing). View all posts by Graham O'Neill