The Five Second Rule

One of those very divisive bits of folklore gleaned from the wonderful world of Wikipedia for today's Wikiworm - which side are you on? The five-second rule is a widely repeated belief that food dropped on the ground will not be significantly contaminated with bacteria if it is picked up within five seconds of being ... Read More...

Some Remarkably Boring Postcards

Steerforth finds that some things can be so boring they exert a curious fascination... There is a point at which things can be so boring that they become interesting again. That applies to people too. When I was a student, I had a temporary job as an assistant in a reference ... Read More...

Dabbler Diary – Bombay Duck

I was twelve when we moved from the city to the country, and soon after that deracinating adventure my father drove us to the National Canine Defence League kennels at West Down, where we acquired a dog. My parents had already secretly sussed out the prime candidate, a mongrel pup ... Read More...

How to be Happy

Radio 4 reporter Becky Milligan ponders the secret of happiness... The question is: what makes you happy? What makes you laugh so hard you’re sick on the floor? Are you happier than sadder? Or so-so, on cruise control, or just below par? And what makes you cry, sob into your sandwiches, ... Read More...

Dabbler Diary – The Fourth Wall

I’m afraid I’ve never been able to take Wales seriously. My troubles begin, shallowly, with the bilingual road signs, which are funny if the Welsh is very different from the English (Please drive carefully - Gryywch yn ofalus) and even funnier if it is similar (Millennium Stadium - Stadiwm y ... Read More...

Dabbler Diary – For the birds

Saturday was Owl Day at the Speedwell Children’s Centre so we took the girls along. Bob the owl man looked like an owl. That sort of thing happens far too often to ascribe it all to coincidence, doesn’t it? Ken Livingstone looks like a newt. Same with aptronyms. Strong and ... Read More...

Nisbet Spotting

Speak, memory! Frank reminisces about his own juvenilia... When I was about eleven years old, I devoted much of my time to nisbet spotting. For a child growing up on a featureless suburban council estate, it was perhaps an unusual pastime, and more unusual still that, so young, I was the ... Read More...