Mr Ferman’s office was on the ground floor of a tall Victorian townhouse near to the centre of Exeter. There was no buzzer so I knocked on the door. ‘Come in,’ said somebody, and I entered a giant heap of files with a few walkways cut through it. I have ... Read More...
Dabbler Diary
In the sports hall a thin middle-aged man called Richard was hopping up and down on one leg while holding his arms out to twist an imaginary steering wheel. Before him, an unruly row of four-year olds enthusiastically tried to copy, with mixed results. And seated behind the children was ... Read More...
What is the worst opening line to a song ever written? I’ll submit this from Suede’s Savoir Faire (1999): She live in a house, she stupid as a mouse. That epigram was penned by the band’s frontman Brett Anderson, and it pains me to mention it because, aside from Mervyn Peake and ... Read More...
Do you ever feel oppressed by the grinding circularity of the week? I mean the relentless Mondaytuesdaywednesdayness of it. Snags you at the age of four and it’s got you forever, with only a little time off at Christmas when there is a disorienting flurry of bank holidays and you ... Read More...
I set my lip on fire the other morning. No of course I didn’t, I’m plagiarising Derek because I can’t think of a better diary opening than his, and because I haven’t done anything very exciting since my last missive, though I did attend a corporate awards night at the ... Read More...
There is a new monkey at the zoo. It’s a drill – like a baboon with a gorilla’s face – and it has usurped the spider monkeys in the first enclosure at Bristol Zoo. I don’t miss the spider monkeys, I was never on nodding terms with them and they ... Read More...
It has been a summer of festivals in Bristol. Well, it’s always a summer of festivals in Bristol, but this year it didn’t rain on them. The Harbour Festival, the Balloon Fiesta, the Kite Festival, Brisfest, Redfest, VegFest, Grillstock aka MeatFest, yes it’s a Festfest alright. My daughters have enjoyed ... Read More...
Speak, memory! It is a late afternoon in late summer in Southsea, and a ten-year old boy is in the hallway on hands and knees refereeing a tight football match between two teams of miscellaneous action figurines. An easy sunlight flows through the window in the kitchen where his father ... Read More...
An advantage the Annual Golfer has over the more frequent player is that for 364 days of the year he can completely empty his mind of any thoughts about golf. Not only is this excellent preparation for the annual round itself (it has been proven that practising golf doesn’t make ... Read More...
Weather determines mood and this has been a rare weekend of holiday heat, barbecues, paddling in rivers and British sporting dominance. And just as when in the bleak bowels of February we cannot imagine ever seeing summer again, cannot even remember the feel of the sun on a slightly burnt ... Read More...