Peter Jones, Author

Memories – in memory of my Grandfather

February 28, 2005 by Peter | 0 comments

my grandfather
was a fascinating man
what I learnt in history, was still just a memory to him
he’d tell me stories
about the war, places he’d been, things he’d seen
and about growing up, where he lived, him & Yogie, his brothers, his dad
it was a different world
and his memory seemed to reach back, further than was possible

my grandfather
knew a lot of stuff
he made me realise that knowing stuff is a good thing
I enjoyed listening to his opinions on things I enjoyed watching him argue with my Dad

he was wise
he was philosophical
even now his words rattle around in my head:
“as one door closes, another one opens”
“insurance is nothing more than legalised gambling, and you’ll never win”
“an accountant is a man who can tell you how much it costs to have a wastepaper basket next to your desk”
and he was humble
he was always keen to know more stuff
even from me
and I was just a kid

my grandfather
spent time with me
we went up to London together
he showed me his London, and I showed him mine
I went to his office one day
he showed me computers before anyone I knew had ever seen a computer
he taught me chess
he taught me “patience”
he showed me articles from National Geographic magazine
he sat in the chair, and I sat on the floor
I wish I could have stayed there for ever

my grandfather
treated me like no-one else
he shook my hand
like I was a man
but I was just a kid.

my grandfather
was my Granddad


In loving memory of my grandfather, Arthur Bradley, who passed away on the 21st January 2005.
Click here to read my brother’s related “meanwhile”

A website. With no cake – the original justicing welcome page.

September 5, 2004 by Peter | 0 comments

Welcome !

It’s with a certain amount of dread that I write this.

Every word, every punctuation mark, every space takes me one step further towards completing the text on this page, and once I’m done, well, then it’s ready to be uploaded to the web. And if it’s uploaded to the web that means people might find it. They might read it. And then they might form an opinion.

It’s a terrifying prospect.

Have you ever had that feeling that although you might be say, thirty five, and to all intents and purposes a fully grown adult, in the driving seat of your psyche is the small boy you once were and haven’t really stopped being. A small boy with all the insecurities that your average seven year old has. Well I have. That’s me right now. It’s an odd feeling.

I probably wrote my first book when I was five or six. It didn’t have many words, it was mainly an illustrated book. I say book, actually it was just several sheets of A4 paper folded in half and bound together with about thirty staples from my grandmother’s stapler. It was a limited print run, distributed on a strict read-and-return basis.

But I’m stalling; attempting to hold off the inevitable by adding meaningless paragraphs. So allow me to thank a couple of people who have been instrumental in helping me put this website together, and then we’ll get started.

Firstly my wife and soulmate Kate, who after I dug out a couple of short stories for her to read encouraged me to start writing again after my 10 year pause. Kate, I’m not sure how you do it, but you have a talent for finding happy parts of me that I’d forgotten about and bringing them back to life. Thank you.

And also to my brother, Simon Jones, who’s writing talent and “meanwhile” website have been an huge inspiration to me. I make absolutely no excuses, the design of this website is intended to mimic his, and I sincerely hope he won’t be miffed but see it for what it is, a large nod in his direction for being such a positive influence. Thanks Sie.

And finally to my little sister, who unwittingly named this website in the first place. You can read about that here.

So here it is. My little corner of the internet. Uploaded, and you found it. Now you might read it. And who knows, you might form an opinion.

Click here for the contents, and happy reading.

Peter Jones
September 5, 2004