Where was I? Oh, yes, Cumberlow Lodge, South Norwood. Politely described as a ‘children’s home’ – no doubt to honour the strictures of the will of the Victorian philanthropist, W E Stanley, who had left his much
Continue reading →Past Lives and Present Misgivings – Part Two
Past Lives and Present Misgivings – Part One.
The blog post that won’t go away is still bouncing around in my head; the Sunday newspapers today have further infuriated me – and after long talks with Mr G, I have made the decision to
Continue reading →The Right to Roam
What would you say the main differences were between your average British street today and its equivalent of 30-40-50 years ago? Well, there’s probably more traffic on the roads, that’s a fair bet; and the air’s
Continue reading →On Bankruptcy and Miracles
This is a very personal post. So trust me that although I have changed certain salient details for various reasons, the essential crux of the facts are true. In fact, the full story is a
Continue reading →A Requiem for Popsy.
I was in my 30s before I got round to wondering why none of my relatives spoke to any of the other relatives. I just accepted it as a child. Questions were not encouraged.
As
Continue reading →Saturday Evening Posts Worth Reading and the 25 Hour News
A l’Eau, C’est l’Heure
Thank-you for being here, you are such a comfort to me.
There I was, minding my own business, as one does when one has an Important Man
Continue reading →A Shropshire Lass.
When I wrote of medieval ale houses, I had in mind old Flossie Lane’s establishment.
Flossie’s grandparents acquired the licence to sell beer and wine from their front parlour to the local farmers
Continue reading →Littler Britain or Scottish Blood, English Heart
As you’re no doubt aware, just over two weeks from now the people who make up one-quarter of the four constituent countries of the United Kingdom will vote to decide whether or not they want to end a
Continue reading →A Shaggy Corgii Tale…
Mr T, who came before Mr G, in my dyslexic litany of marriages, once offered to move a boiler for me so that I could squeeze another piece of kitchen equipment into the resulting space.
Continue reading →Ms Raccoon regrets…
You got up far too late today to catch sight of the Raccoon – she was up and away, on her travels again, before you even put the kettle on…
Once the good Doctors
Continue reading →Sunday Bloody Sunday and the Lost Art of Boredom
‘Sunday Bloody Sunday really encapsulates the frustration of a Sunday. You wake up in the morning, you’ve got to read all the Sunday papers, the kids are running round, you’ve got to mow
Continue reading →Saturday Evening Posts Worth Reading and the 25-Hour News.
Rejoice! The End of the Witch-hunt is Nigh!
In the caldron boil and bake;
Matron’s stories told defy the truth,
Gropes remember’d from their youth,
Liz Dux’ ego, and Meirion’s sting,—
For
Continue reading →Memory Tricks.
I can remember events that date back to being three years old – but they are ‘fixed images’ rather than a ‘video’ rendition of events. I have a clear image of my Father, bent over an
Continue reading →Rotherham bothers 'em?
Across the land, fingers are flying over moderation panels on a thousand websites – deleting any mention of Rotherham and Pakistanis in the same comment. There is more cant and hypocrisy around today than I have seen for
Continue reading →Notting Hill Carnage.
It must be August Bank Holiday – London’s most affluent neighbourhood has been forced to board up its windows, board out the cat and the dog, send the children off to Rock in Cornwall – whose residents have
Continue reading →Gap-year journalism bringing you gap-year jihadism.
The lexicon of corporate life has affected the dead tree press in ways more subtle than the arrest of 63 journalists for offences uncovered by the investigation of the so-called ‘hacking’ investigation, or
Continue reading →Unholy War?
This was the headline in an article in The Times – rather appropriate, I thought, in the light of the present pleasantries being visited on the Middle East by the nascent Islamic State.
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Saturday Evening Posts Worth Reading and the 25-Hour News.
Islam and the Sword.
There was a prescient piece in the Sunday Times this week by Tom Holland, historian and author of, amongst other books, ‘In the Shadow of the Sword’, which charts the origins of Islam.
In
Continue reading →Christianity, Feminism and Operation Yewtree.
I’m not a religious man by any means. Not in the sense of organised religion, or worship of a named ‘Higher Entity’. I don’t define myself by religion, by politics or race – people are/were generally able to
Continue reading →Educating Auntie.
I have in front of me a copy of the Radio Times, dated 31 August-6 September 1974 – yes, almost exactly forty years ago. The front cover is a mock-up of a police photo-fit image featuring the
Continue reading →Man Bites Dog.
It is possibly unfair to infer that Kathy Hook is a dog – bitch might have been better. ‘Man bites Bitch’ – doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.
She was voted ‘Unsung Hero’ by BBC Sports
Continue reading →The Child Abuse Band-waggon Slips Over the Cliff….
The slur-mongers – I refuse to dignify them with the term ‘moral entrepreneurs’ – who base their business model on peddling tit-bits of salacious gossip to the post-Leveson media are coming under increased scrutiny today following the universal disquiet
Continue reading →Saturday Evening Posts Worth Reading and the 25-Hour News.
Cliff Hanging.
The Internet mob have claimed another scalp. A woman who chose to run a brothel told a man involved in money laundering that one of her customers used to sign into the brothel as ‘Cliff Richard’. Naturally coming from
Continue reading →British Values.
What are these ‘British values’ that Nicky Morgan thinks should be instilled in toddlers in an ‘age appropriate’ manner?
We have a varied assortment to consider today. “Challenging negative attitudes and stereotypes.”
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Robin Williams v J J Murphy.
I don’t habitually read the obituaries. Too reminiscent of past visits to my ex-mother in law in Liverpool, when the current score of Liverpudlians who had pegged it since
Continue reading →No Pockets in a Shroud.
Shrouds used to have pockets, you know. It was quite the done thing in Pagan times, to take all your wordily possessions with you, to enhance your life in the hereafter.
In Normandy, northern
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