Category: Family

Gone Fishing

It’s red pin time again. The Owenduff meanders through peat hags in Co Mayo towards the Atlantic. There are clumps of rhododendrons in blossom along its banks. A few scruffy sheep mooch about. The country looks devoid of any human habitation but on inspection there is a sprinkling of small houses.

An Uncle in the Strand

My maternal grandmother is a Cator. If you’d like a thumbnail sketch the Cators are genetically rich and pathologically mean. There is probably no connection, although …  My paternal grandmother is a Jameson – less rich and wildly generous.

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Categorised as Family

By-Elections

Following the death of Sir Gerald Kaufman a by-election was supposed to be held yesterday for his seat, Manchester Gorton. It has been deferred until the General Election next month.

British Boxers

British Boxers supply good quality clothing – I am a customer. Another British boxer is Tony Bellew. He has more titles than Prince Charles and he has made a small but significant difference to the lives of Bellews living in England.

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Categorised as Family, Sport

Big Bang et cetera

I had a shock on Friday morning. Walking past Knightsbridge barracks I noticed two white vans by the entrance. There were three uniformed soldiers on the pavement and after I had passed I thought of going back to make sure they had checked the vans. Maybe I was over-reacting so I did nothing. At the… Continue reading Big Bang et cetera

Tringle Time

In the Lyttelton, Hart-Davis letters, which I continue to relish, Rupert H-D reveals that he is a crossword fiend and wins many a prize. I have twice (non-swank) won the top prize from The Spectator.

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Dum and Dee

If you went to Eton you know what beaks are – if you didn’t, it is what the teachers are called. In 1959, in Bud Hill’s house, there were two extra beaks.

Are Brokers Human?

When I lived at Barmeath I was a young dabbler in the stock market using my grandfather’s broker, Dudgeon, in Suffolk Street, Dublin. They were an old-fashioned firm whose partners were all known to my grandfather as friends or relations. On important occasions such as the Irish Derby there would be no partner in the… Continue reading Are Brokers Human?

Get me to a Nunnery

A recent comment reminded me that I was a vendangeur in 1972; cue for me to ramble on a bit about my “gap year”.