Look. It’s only a game. It’s only 22 over-paid vacuous young men chasing a bit of leather around a field for 90 minutes. It’s not Agincourt. I have just seen two Daily Telegraph headlines that read, “Southgate summons the warrior spirit of generations past” and “I am in tears writing this…”. I didn’t read theContinue reading “Blog 97. It’s Only a Game.”
Tag Archives: COVID19
Blog 96. “Forty Thirty. Silence, Please”
Help. I am a tennis widow. Or should that be a tennis widower? Whatever, I am left to my own devices after 1330 every day except Sunday, destined to make my own entertainment, perhaps nibble on a little dry bread and mouldy cheese for supper, and to go to bed alone: a lonely soul. ItContinue reading “Blog 96. “Forty Thirty. Silence, Please””
Blog 95. Welcome to the Hotel California
Right. The next time I put forward the idea of driving down memory lane (almost literally) and completing a journey on the old trunk roads instead of the motorway (as in Blog 87), then for heaven’s sake stop me. We decided to have A Grand Day Out last week: a Drive, as my parents wouldContinue reading “Blog 95. Welcome to the Hotel California”
Blog 94. You Challenge The Sisterhood At Your Peril.
The son and heir has gone vegetarian. It could be worse: he could have become a vegan (though no prejudice there – I never missed an episode of Star Trek in its day). Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy vegetarian food and we often have it; but I do object to having vegan or (lessContinue reading “Blog 94. You Challenge The Sisterhood At Your Peril.”
Blog 93. The Blue Poop Challenge
Whatever happened to Wonderloaf? Or Mothers Pride? Or thick sliced white bread? I posed this question to Jane as I gazed, disappointingly, at the rough lumpen toast with bits in it that rested on my plate at breakfast time. The previous night we had pondered on the important issue of what to have for breakfastContinue reading “Blog 93. The Blue Poop Challenge”
Blog 92. Hurrah For The Life Of A Sailor!
The heads ceased working at 0715. I know this because I had just finished using the facility and I was now (literally) faced with the ghastly residue. The heads, as you seasoned sea dogs will know by now, is the nautical equivalent of the lavatory. As there is only one lavatory onboard I suppose theContinue reading “Blog 92. Hurrah For The Life Of A Sailor!”
Blog 91. Don’t Touch My Button.
“Don’t touch my button!”I have received many tactile related instructions, directions and orders from my good wife including, inter alia, “Don’t touch my tummy” and “Don’t touch my leg”; but “Don’t touch my button” must surely be the most bizarre and the only one positively crying out for a witty riposte. You see, she has,Continue reading “Blog 91. Don’t Touch My Button.”
Blog 90. More Tea, Vicar?
So that was Spring (I think). Weeks and weeks of non-stop sunshine in April, nights a bit cool and the wind a bit fresh, but – on the whole – very promising; warm trousers, sweaters and shirts stowed away and Mrs S appearing with polished legs in skirts and sandals; and now it would appearContinue reading “Blog 90. More Tea, Vicar?”
Blog 89. Damned clever, these Chinese.
“And we jolly sailor boys were leaping up aloft, with the landlubbers lying down below”. Ahoy, landlubbers and shipmates: I’m back from the boat, wind-burned, weather beaten, bruised, aching in most joints, and smelling faintly of diesel oil. This last characteristic is a little odd, bearing in mind that conditions onboard are not so primitiveContinue reading “Blog 89. Damned clever, these Chinese.”
Blog 88. Come back dressed like an officer.
The first signs of a crumbling civilisation are beginning to show. I refer not to the continuing open arrest of British citizens in their own country, nor to the compulsory wearing of face nappies on boats in Force 8 gales; not even to the riots in Bristol and Northern Ireland. No, I refer to theContinue reading “Blog 88. Come back dressed like an officer.”
"A Very Vintage Chap..." 