Lock and Pots

In weather reminiscent of the opening passage of Dance I walked upstream to Richmond on Monday morning. The white notices on these trees are Preservation Orders dated last month. Does this mean every tree will have to sport a white badge if it’s not to be chopped down?

I Never Met …

I never met Winston Churchill or Princess Margaret. My brother marched behind Churchill’s coffin when he was a young officer in the Irish Guards and Uncle George (aka Sir George Bellew) helped arrange the elaborate funeral.

Dance

I have decided that I am old enough to enjoy reading A Dance to the Music of Time. The first volume was published in 1951 when Anthony Powell was forty-six. It took him twenty-five years to complete the twelve volume series, although at first he only hoped that it might stretch to three books. Nevertheless… Continue reading Dance

Published
Categorised as Literature

Back to the Seventies

The Independent Workers Union of Great Britain (IWGB) greeted the audience arriving at the Royal College of Music on Thursday evening to hear Mozart’s 24th Piano Concerto and Richard Strauss’ An Alpine Symphony.

A Good Conversion

These two houses in Margravine Gardens, built in 1890, were rather dilapidated until recently. Now they have had basement extensions, been converted into flats and look smart.

Crossing the Line

Reggie was good company yesterday morning. We walked from his home in Parsons Green across Putney Bridge and then up the river to Richmond. Except for a short stretch at Barnes he was off the lead until we got to Richmond.

Published
Categorised as History

A Gentleman of Leisure

There are 1,321 boys at Eton and 821 at Harrow. Of course this fluctuates as boys come and go, sometimes under a cloud. Even after allowing for the greater number of Old Etonians it is apparent that the number of fictional Old Etonians exceeds fictional Old Harrovians by a big margin.

The Golden Bottle

Mrs Hudson came in without knocking while I was having forty winks. I awoke to hear Holmes expostulating “Dear Mrs H, please desist from wipin’ your hands on your apron – so common”. I knew that her intrusion must be warranted.