My good friend Robin and I used to go walking and at times he’d break out into song. He’s a great enthusiast and I have a lot of time for great enthusiasts. He also drives a fancy low down type sports car and has always been willling to give me a lift to a start location for our walks. I like the car but it is extremely low slung and one’s bum feels about 6 inches from the tarmac when installed. I perhaps should have noticed that I found it increasingly difficult to get out of the beast. We did … Continue reading I should have noticed

I’ve been in hospital. I’m out now. I’ll be writing about it all in due course, big thanks to everyone who helped me make my escape, my significant other, friends, and the wonderful doctors, nurses and staff at Cheltenham General. The speciality custard smothered puds almost had me changing my mind, fortunately the taste of the ‘fish’ and steroids had me walking for the door. Polymyalgia rheumatica in me is being dealt with…. Big heartfelt thanks to everyone. Continue reading 10 days:10 custards

Not been on here for a while, got a touch of Arthur Rightus, which as anyone who has it is a pain in the wherever. I could do with a pair of these for getting in and out of the car. Handles to lift the feet in. Much physio and keeping moving seems to be the order of the day. The luxury version of these has a pair of small electric cranes on a matching shirt, to save your effort. Continue reading Arthur Trousers

I’m the chubster on the right, my brother in the front middle and Peter Wilkinson on the left. We all went to the same boarding school in nearby Preston. The photo taken of the three of us in out back garden in Ince in Makerfield in what was then a very industrial Wigan. We are wearing our ‘Sunday Suits’ which as I recall were itchy wooly things. We were occasionally allowed out on Sundays and parents would come and collect us, feed us up in the day ( as you can see I was not really in need of feeding … Continue reading 3 boys on Sunday Release…

I’ve been quiet here for a couple of weeks whilst a couple of holidays beckoned. The most recent a week just one stop on the bus out of Mevagissey in Cornwall. Our plan was to visit the lost Gardens of Helligan, which is also nearby, but for some reason we thought a bus trip into “Meva” might be a good idea too. To a degree it was, the place has a small modest Museum where people have donated found objects and relics of the past like this wonderful pipe. The street of the town are quaint and narrow and frankly … Continue reading Mevagissey misses…

With the end of the WWC , Women’s World Cup, we are released from the yoke of the footballer commentator, thank goodness. The women who tell us what’s going on in front of us on the screen have been much better than their male counterparts. One such male seemed to have over cooked his homework and research so much that as nothing much was going on on the field he started droning on about how one of the girls mothers in law was married to a former player from Port Vale who once played against Jimmy Greaves or some such … Continue reading And now fine art football, and it’s over to our match day commentator: Mike Angelo.

A day out in Gloucester. On the bus, the 99, where a driver who looked about 14 drove me and one or two others to the hospital for me to get a special eye check up. Much waiting in a room straight out of the 70s with just a few people. The bloke ahead of me in a fancy wheelchair that should have had L plates on it as he reversed into screens and was eventually brought to a stop by his daughter pushing the on/off switch. Charming young doctor showed me some pictures of my eyes after a technician … Continue reading A Hungarian Boxer in the Docks

For a relatively short time I worked in High Holborn at a branch of the large ad agency: S H Benson. I was in the recruitment department. We specialised in ads trying to recruit staff of all sorts for a range of clients.We tried to recruit bus drivers for London Transport, and Train Staff for British Rail as it was then. I worked as a typographer ( not a very good one ) with an art director: Richard, and a couple of copywriters: Gordon and Hereward King. Hereward was of the old school, and he was quite old to be … Continue reading The Princess Louise and Hereward King

My local supermarket has started a little counter where they offer sushi. Raw fish rolled in rice. Now I know what this can be like. Daughter took us to a place in LA where it was superb. Try saying that whilst pretending to be Sean Connery. I wonder what he would have done with the line : “Shall we share some sushi Cyril? “ I shushpect you should shtep away . I digress. Firmly of the opinion that your eyes do the eating I was taken in by some sushi, shalmon and avocado rolls. Shorry, doing a Shaun again. I’ll … Continue reading S**t sushi and shenanigans

I’m a big fan of women’s football, and this World Cup is a treat for me, especially as I recover from a dental injury and know what a football looks and feels like. Reading an article in the Guardian on our team’s camp my heart sank. They’re looking after them but treating them like 2 dimensional male footballers. Table tennis, making wrist bands, craft tables, virtual reality headsets, for crying out loud it’s like Butlin’s on speed. They could be learning a new language, they’ll be surrounded by foreigners soon enough, so knowing the Spanish for “Offside Ref! “ or … Continue reading Souped up Butlin’s is not what our women need.

You might think that having an allotment is for you to grow your own veg. Well it is, and it is also to feed the local population of slugs snails and birds as well as for meditation. Just taking in the plot this evening was just brilliant. No one else was there, I had my own plot and all the others to myself. A redstart and a cliff chaff were in the area too, they were probably contemplating coming along for a feast on my slugs. I wish they would as the slugs are having a ‘super size me’ slug … Continue reading Plottage, meditation and spud failure…

One of the good things about this blogging lark is the way one can vent about all those first world problems that come upon us. A recent problem relating to hot water and cylinders has landed me with the task of finding an electrician and perhaps a plumber, to fix a problem. Plumbers and electricians are thin on the ground, or so it would seem, so to get one to respond let alone turn up is a minor miracle. The technique of asking either of these trades to get in touch is yet another minefield. I determined to find recommendations … Continue reading The plumber, the electrician and the bishop.