201 days ago
I wrote before Christmas of the joy when a cheddar cheese arrived from the wife and son of my late Uncle Chris Booker. Something that has happened for all my life continues. In return, I sent a Yarg as I always do. That Cheddar was about eight inches high and, as you can see below, is now almost all gone. About a week ago, four things I know Chris despised, combined to make me think of him and that Christmas present.
209 days ago
Arguably, it would be more useful than a Matt Hancock clock which isn’t even right once a day, let alone twice. As you can see below, purchasing a clock which honours a man who the BBC used your money to protect and reward over many years although many staffers knew – as did the whole of Fleet Street – that he was a nonce, is a bit hard on Amazon. For some reason, the firm that used to make them has discontinued production. Why do I undertake this search you ask? My interest was spurred on as I searched for a clock to buy for my kitchen on Facebook marketplace and came across this £100 “John Lennon” clock below. But it was not a Beatle that stared out at me. It is not this sort of clock which I seek.
758 days ago
A true giant of post war journalism died the night before last with his two sons at his bed side. Much will written elsewhere about his achievements: Co-founder of Private Eye, scriptwriter at TW3, Campaigning Journalist of the Year (opposing awful inner City redevelopment), Telegraph columnist for 60 years, the Godfather of Euroscepticism. The Guardian, if true to form, will have nasty words about that and about his exposing the global warming hoax.
2730 days ago
I said that some of the artwork at our new wine and tapas bar in Clerkenwell, Maribelle's, was Spanish only on a tangential basis. And so among the posters is a framed copy of "A Spaniard in the Works" - the poems of John Lennon. More posters to follow.