Category: Local

What Now? What Next?

Now the birds are loving lockdown. An uxorious  pair of Great Tits eat peanuts from a feeder in the garden unfazed by us. The falcons nesting aloft Charing Cross Hospital laid three eggs. One has hatched and it seems probable that the others will not. 

Coronavirus Chronicle VI

A friend tells me her mother is finding lock-down frustrating. She rails against her enforced seclusion; “but she’s nearly ninety and hasn’t been out of the house for years”.

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Objets Trouvé

When Bertie pounces on something that belongs to somebody else, he dances, prances and capers and I say sorry; but my heart isn’t in it; it’s an objet trouvé.

Benford’s Law

There may not be enough PPE in hospitals but popular economist, Tim Harford, has his own PPE from Brasenose. His columns in The FT and broadcasts on BBC Radio 4 are usually intriguing.

Windmills on My Mind

Exploring Wimbledon Common, it’s hard to miss the windmill. Some things never change. In 1799 an enterprising cove sought permission to build a windmill but he was refused because he didn’t submit plans.

Coronavirus Chronicle V

I planted a wisteria Floribunda Alba four years ago. It’s doing well but refuses to flower so instead of the above display I have this.

Farewell Richmond Park

Bertie is thirteen months old today. Yesterday I took him for a glorious walk round the perimeter of Richmond Park and his behaviour was exemplary until we were almost back at the car.

Coriolanus Chronicle IV

You may have noticed that there has been no mention of riparian walks up to Richmond recently. The towpath is narrow but walkers are good at stepping into the bushes to pass safely.

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The Tangier Regiment

I’ve read enough about how Brexit has divided the country. It is small beer compared to the Restoration 360 years ago. One issue then was the creation of an army forged from Parliamentary and Royalist forces; necessary as there were three Anglo-Dutch wars between 1652 and 1674. But I must digress.

Coronavirus Chronicle III

Well this year there’s something to cheer up Osbert Lancaster’s Lord and Lady Grumpy. “But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined … “ (Macbeth, Act 3, Scene 4)