The debonair Basil Marigold's

For the first time in many years I find myself, and my family, ensconced in Devon for Christmas. This is quite a rare occurrence for us as it rarely falls kindly. What with all the distances involved it doesn’t make for an easy trip. However, this year the calendar has helped us and, well, here we are. It is not a very Christmassy place, Devon, when you consider that Devon is the God favoured county in England. There will be little in the way of snow anywhere here apart from the Dartmoor peaks. Whereas Kirkby will at some point get a covering of some snow. Brixham is far to near to the coast for snow. I think in 25 years I only saw snow once in that time. The other difference between Brixham and Kirkby is one of a church nature. It is something that is lacking in Kirkby In Ashfield but is quite common here, in Brixham. It’s bells. More accurately, Church bells. It only something I notice when I come down here. There are two churches in the town and they both have

You’d think that 2016 would give us a little respite in celebrity passing but no. It continues apace with the sudden news of George Michael. His music was never quite my music. I was too young to be a fan of the music of his first band, Wham. And as I grew up I was more into heavier music than the pop music that they epitomised. By the time of his solo music release I was a convicted Pink Floyd, and Pearl Jam groupie. Grunge and Rock was where I stood. As George Michael dominated the single charts so I listened more to the album bands. That’s not to say he didn’t have an impact. He was an international superstar of the 80’s. His image and his sound was iconic. I remember him during the Freddie Mercury tribute concert in 1991 where he made it his own. His rendition of Queen classics became such a powerful image. His later life and music was often controversial from this point on. His musical highs were so high, but his personal lows, very low. His talent, however, was unden

I can tell when it is approaching the end of the year, as my travelling times to and from work begin to get shorter. The distance remains the same. However, instead of well over an hour, it starts dropping to below the hour from door to door. That makes for a good time of year for me. The start to the day is far less stressful. It becomes a little joyful instead. It is a time for joy of course. Though it hasn’t always been a joyful year, has it. 2016 has seen the passing of some iconic people. People who have either changed the culture of their times, or created a whole new aspect of culture. Notably, I would argue, David bowie fits the later. So, a time of recollection. It’s difficult when the cultural reference points of your existence begin to crumble and fall. Being young prevents this, in most cases, but as you get older, so they get older and then it will happen. Doesn’t make it any easier though. You spend a lifetime submersing yourself in their creativity and t

My daughter is a narcissist, as the last post shows. My wife, however, is merely odd.  Let's take last night. This week I go to work for 8am. Not too early you may say. I do have to drive 60 miles to get there. It is incredibly tiring to do in winter, the darkness and the coldness mean you need a decent night sleep so you are able to concentrate enough on the motorways. This though did not happen last night. After a few hours of sleep, well after midnight, I am woken by my wife.  ‘Where is the little man’, she said. ‘What?’ I replied half asleep, ‘what are you talking about?’ ‘The little man who lives in the duvet’ my wife states confidently. ‘Stop talking rubbish and go back to bed’ I turn over and go back to bed, ignoring the jibberish. A while later my wife starts talking again ‘Have you seen the little man? He’s always lived in the duvet. Near the top. I can’t find him!’ ‘Huh, says I’ woken for the second time. It must about 2am by now. ‘There is no

My  daughter  the  Narcissist.  A story of Christmas 2016.  At my son and daughters school they allow the children to write  Christmas  cards to each other. This seems an polite and kind thing to encourage. My daughter came home with quite a few  Christmas  cards from her friends.    I picked a couple up and glanced through them. Once you could decipher some of the handwriting they looked good. Apart from one.  One of the cards, written in pink ink said. 'To Grace' - Merry Christmas 'Love Grace'. The writing looked very familiar. I asked Grace, 'You sent yourself a Christmas card, didn’t you?'   'Yes' she replied.   What she had done was write a card to herself. Then proceeded  to put it in her school bag and then, finally, take it out and put it into the school letter box. Grace  waited. And, after a day or so, she received a red enveloped card with the name Grace written on the front.   Narcissist. 

Spoke to my mum tonight. After the usual, 'hello' and 'how are you?' was finished, the topic changed. 'You have heard the news then?' she said. 'which, in particular?' I replied. Knowing that of late we have not been short of news, however depressing. 'About Leonard Cohen. He died today. He was 82!' 'Yes, I heard.' I said. And I related the story that I literally did hear. This morning I had had a lie in. It's Friday. I know I the traffic is easier so I can leave later. I woke up, not to my alarm but my wife's. It is set to the R4 today programme. I don't hear it often. It is invariably spoken news. Not today.  As I explained to my mum. I had woken up hearing Leonard Cohen singing, 'Suzanne'. I have heard this song a thousand times. I utterly adore this song. I also, instantly, knew that it meant that Leonard Cohen had died.  Just by hearing the song I knew. I didn't need to hear the newscaster explain i

It's been a week since my visit to Cambridge. Cambridge is beautiful. It is also like an island in the fens. Not especially easy to get to, either by car or train. It's a good few hours from home. I chose the train. The journey was better than three years ago. I changed the departure station from home to Newark. It knocked about an hour off the previous journey in 2013. Why three years. It is called the Cambridge Greek play. It is presented triennially by the students of Cambridge university. There are two fundamental aspects to the Greek play: a) It has to be from one of the ancient greek playwrights (for ancient greek playwrights, read ancient Athenian playwrights. All the extant play we have come from Athens) that is, in date order; Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides. And, b) It is spoken entirely in ancient Greek. In 2016 they tragic play was by Sophocles. It was, Antigone, part of the Sophocles' 'Theban Plays. These encompassed the myth of Oedipus and his des

It has begun to prove useful, having a five year old son. His size is now almost perfect. If I had a chimney, he'd be up it with a brush. I don't, however, have a chimney. I do have a car. Quite frankly vacuuming it can be bit of pain: the bending down; I can't lean cross through the car to hoover the other side. I have too go around no open the other side doors. These can be on the road; I have to then pay attention if a car wants to go down the street. It's a chore. Now though, I have a 'Vacuum Monkey'. He's fantastic. He can clamber over seats carrying the long extension nozzle. He can now, also, detach and reattach the different vacuum nozzles. He can start on the pavement side of the car and work his way across. He can fit under the car seats. He's the car equivalent of a potholing rescue team member! Now he has started following instructions he's become less of a liability! He enjoys it, too! One of his questions yesterday, having vac

We've lost yet another talent in 2016. It's now taken one of the finest comedy actors in history. And, perhaps more importantly for people of a certain age, he represented one of the my childhood memories; He was Willy Wonka. I had read most of the Roald Dahl books as a child. This one was a particular favourite. What child would not want to be part of a tour of the worlds biggest chocolate factory (comparable to going around the Guinness brewery in Dublin, as an adult!). This tour was led by Willy Wonka. Gene Wilder, who has died at 83 IS Willy Wonka. When we play our Charlie and the chocolate factory audio CD in the car. I can only see Gene Wilder. I cannot separate the character from the actor. He played the part in such a sublime way, he made it his own. In the audio CD the character is all jolly. In the books and in the film he is a far more complex character. He is hugely mysterious. As Wilder said, 'He was part of this world, but also part of another'.

And so, it ends. After 12 calendar months, our English Heritage membership expires in a few days. It's been quite a good year. It has made us explore the heritage locally and even driven our choice in holidays, too! The family membership cost us about £70. I has, completely, and without qualification, a little bit of a bargain. It started when I realised in June of last year that we were heading, in August to Brixham and in October to Scarborough. Noticing that English Heritage held three properties near Brixham; Berry Pomeroy, Totnes and Dartmouth Castles (all within driving distance). We also knew that membership also opened the doors of Scarborough Castle and Whitby Abbey. Again, places we would be near in October. For £70 this seemed an excellent opportunity to access some good sites. With all the entries for these places we felt that we could break even on the £70 if we didn't take membership and paid for access. At my last reckoning. The amount of money we would have