Life and Death and Everything in Between

Part One – STORM Porktraddle (singing and playing his old oil-tin ukulele) It seems like only yesterdayWe wandered in the field of fantasy.Crushed beneath our happy feetThe meadow grass that smelled so sweet…Whoops! Pardon! Whoops! Better out than in! Poet:All that summer there had been a nagging, fretting windSo that, even on the clearest days,…

Peter hi! Just as crazy a tumble of words, sounds, character, and life, death and everything in between as the LIVE show seen a few years ago. Loved it’s crazy, visceral bombardment of absurd audio – setting my imagination out on a weather beaten, smelly, hard knock journey into space! Can’t wait for the next…

That gap between breakfast and Christmas Dinner.? Or later whilst you’re waiting for the cake to be cut? Or after a refreshing Boxing Day morning walk? When would you like to listen to the first part of Life and Death and Everything In between? I made a poll on LinkedIn to see which day would…

I’m reviewing each episode as I upload them. Some of them need the odd tweak here and there but I do have to be careful because each little tweak can send me down a rabbit hole that ends up requiring a completely new recording or edit. Which is partly why it has taken me ten…

After a certain amount of mucking about Eamon Porktraddle’s Website is now live. If you’re looking for it… well, I suppose you’ve found it. It’s http://www.lifeanddeathandeverythinginbetween.co.uk and I’ll try to update you as we move towards releasing the series into the wild.

I’ve spent a while putting this website together. Whhen that’s done, I feel I’ve got something reasonably informative to accompany the podcast when I release that. And when will that be? I have promised it for three Christmases in a row so it doesn’t seem unreasonable to promise it again for Christmas 2021. Is that…

News sources covered and reviewed earlier versions of the show.

Poet: All that summer there had been a nagging, fretting wind so that, even on the clearest days, visitors on the beach had huddled behind wind breaks left early because of the fine sand rasped and scarified bare burnt skin. While the anxious surf sucked and sighed In a tumbling tin shed in the corner…