Category Archives: Uncategorized

In brief, I’ve just fin­ished read­ing two slim volumes that proved well worth study­ing.  Just pub­lished is Gra­ham High’s “The Range-Finder’s Field Glasses” from Over­steps Books — tight yet lyr­ical love poems, remin­is­cences of his father, sus­tained meta­phors arising out … Con­tinue read­ing →

As someone who got a IIi Hon­ours Degree in Eng­lish and Amer­ican Lit­er­at­ure in 1970 I might be for­given if I said I had read “Wuther­ing Heights” and for­got­ten much of it — less under­stand­able per­haps will be the admis­sion … Con­tinue read­ing →

A whole week­end of them !  Scar­bor­ough for sand­castles, sea, don­key rides and ice cream, then the gal­lopers / carou­sel in York, and finally a cir­cu­lar bike tour to the south-west of York past the har­vest in pro­gress, to Bolton Percy … Con­tinue read­ing →

Not a lot changes at the Great York­shire Show but it’s re-assuring to see that there are still pigs, cows, goats, sheep, pigeons, and horses and will­ing to come and be judged.  And so much tempt­ing food !  I didn’t … Con­tinue read­ing →

For years I have been say­ing what a great film “Lawrence of Ara­bia” was — the Peter O’Toole ver­sion.  And how won­der­ful the open­ing shot was, of Omar Sharif rid­ing out of the desert sun­set towards Lawrence.  Then, see­ing it … Con­tinue read­ing →

A beau­ti­ful Spring day so off by train to Brough and through Elloughton and up onto the Wolds through a delight­ful gentle long wooded val­ley from Brant­ing­ham.  Dogs’ Mer­cury about the only wild plant dar­ing to show itself, though the … Con­tinue read­ing →

Fol­low up film — tak­ing the mixed race Salford chip-shop-owning fam­ily back to the father’s roots, and first wife, in Pakistan.  Whereas East is East was largely a com­edy, this is much darker, filling in the back­ground which the father … Con­tinue read­ing →

Read­ers with long memor­ies may remem­ber con­cerns about the fish in our garden pond.  At the moment sev­eral fish are vis­ible — at least two are swim­ming very slowly around, two more are trapped in a per­sist­ent layer of ice … Con­tinue read­ing →

Flee­ing yet another night under can­vas in the muddy fields of Hol­land, hav­ing arrived at the Hook I made for the ferry.  The ter­minal is next to the rail sta­tion, and has level access with travel­at­ors right up to the … Con­tinue read­ing →