Making Music

I invited a great-niece and a god-daughter to a Prom this week. In hunting terminology this is called running a bitch pack and is a compliment. Tom Isaacs, a famous huntsman at the end of the 19th century, said that “his bitch pack were the ones for killing foxes” but forrard, forrard (another hunting term).

Cathedral Crawl

The friends I stay with in Wales are on a mission to visit every cathedral in England and Wales. They have twice come to stay with me, to tick off St Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, a cathedral from 1540 to 1550.

Face to Face

I bought this BBC box set almost three years ago after I watched a few of the interviews staying with friends in France. It was when I stopped using shampoo.

Ding Dong!

Ding Dong! The bridge is dead. Which old bridge? The Garden Bridge! Ding Dong! The Garden Bridge is dead.

Sword of Bone

Anthony Rhodes was born in 1916. He went to Rugby and the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich. The army sent him to Trinity College, Cambridge to study Mechanical Engineering. He graduated in 1939 just in time to join the Royal Engineers and serve in France as part of the British Expeditionary Force.

Macaroni Cheese

If there is a ready-made supermarket Macaroni Cheese that is any good I haven’t found it. I read The Greasy Spoon, Luke Honey’s eclectic blog on matters pertaining to food and culinary history, and last month he posted about the perfect Macaroni Cheese receipt.

Nature Notes

The soft water, clean air, quietness and lack of light pollution in Yorkshire was good for my skin and I slept better. One lunchtime it was too hot to eat outside; unusual in Swaledale and the farmers were out in force tedding, windrowing and baling; making hay while the sun shone.

Cyril Nicholas Henty-Dodd

My uncle, christened Henry, was always called Henty; my friends are the Dodds. How did they become intertwined? Well, we must look back to the 1960s when I had crushes on Illya Kuryakin (Man From U.N.C.L.E.) and Simon Dee. I gave the latter top billing a while back in a post about The Italian Job, in… Continue reading Cyril Nicholas Henty-Dodd

High Pint

Tan Hill is only about four miles due north. It is a stiff two hour climb across marshy moorland made boggier by the path being on the Pennine Way but luckily it was what passes for a perfect Summer day up here.

Mucking about in Muker

I’m grateful to Ned York both for his slice of Stonington history and for giving me a day off yesterday. But now I’m a bit behind.