FOR A START...
I’ve re-read a few past posts and am as ready as I’m likely to be to resume the sporadic scribbling. Gawdblessyer if y’ still look in. So what has been happening? Well…
ACROSS THE WATER.
In Portsmouth.
Maureen’s sister Ruth died on the 18th December. Most of the family attended the funeral on the 10th January. At the time of her death she was two days past her 87th birthday. She lived in Portsmouth most of her life, survived a husband and son, could be moody at times but had a heart of gold and willingly gave shelter to an adolescent Mo when it was most needed. RIP Ruthie Lea.
Worst experience of the day: the taxi to Portchester Crematorium from The Hard at Portsmouth was the least disabled-passenger-friendly we could possibly have chanced upon and was driven by the least helpful driver. We shall not avail ourselves of that one’s services again.
Best experience: being surrounded by the familiar - and unfamiliar - faces of a large family and its friends. Even on such a sad occasion it was a joy to meet those who came to have a chat.
In London.
Another competition to find new writing talent is being launched by newspaper of the year i. This time interested university students are being invited to submit (in editor Stefano Hatfield’s own words) “450 words on one of the following five relatively timeless topics: whether Britain should stay in or leave the EU; the decline of our high streets and what that means; why arts and culture matter in a recession; a defence of modern-day football; and do Britain’s young study the right subjects and work hard enough?” If none of those subjects appeals, the competitors can submit one on a subject of their choice, but are warned to avoid topics which may have “fallen off the news agenda by the time columns are published next month.”
Deadline for email entries to i@independent.co.uk is 12 noon on Monday 28th January, should contain the word iWriters in the header and entrants should include their course and place of study.
If I was studying English/journalism at university I’d be emailing my entry right now, chance how genuine the prospects would be. I’m only sorry I’m more than sixty years too old, went not to university, have only ever been marginally competitive and would have been a useless foot-in-the-door dickhead, anyway. It would have been a daily column or nothing for me.
But good luck if you are an undergrad who sees this as a career chance and competes accordingly. I wish you every success.
And when it comes to luck, in Vauxhall last week two crane drivers escaped death when a helicopter hit their crane and crashed in flames. Seems the crane was not manned because the senior driver overslept. Surely they were the luckiest people in the metropolis that day.
ON THE ISLAND.
Christmas over.
Our little living room looks strangely bare bereft of the accumulated models of Santa Claus gathered over the years, the half-tree in plastic Canadian spruce and the annual welcoming decorations. Put in black and white it all sounds decidedly naff and probably is, but we like it and so do all the little kids and most of the adults who see it. Them as don’t can please themselves. To my mind, the most worthwhile quote from any celebrity last year was made by the actor and film director Clint Eastwood who (asked what his fans thought of him playing older roles) said that one of the advantages of getting old is you no longer need give a crap what anybody thinks. I’ll second that.
My Leader.
Despite a few confidence-sapping falls, progress following the hip replacement is being steadily maintained. Expert opinion has it that a bout of polio at an early age weakened her left side and it has now been decided that physiotherapy will be of benefit. My Leader is a fighter and the experts are sound.
Beyond that one can only hope.
ON TELEVISION.
Last Tango in Halifax. (BBC1)
I recorded the complete series of this romantic drama by Sally Wainwright and we watched the episodes in one viewing session. It was playwriting at its very best and the acting was superb: the stars were (in alphabetical order) Derek Jacobi, Sarah Lancashire, Anne Reid and Nicola Walker. Some cast, eh?
We thoroughly enjoyed it and there is talk of another series.
Elementary. (Sky Living)
This is at least a positive attempt to use the Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson characters differently. Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu play the roles in a likeable way and only Arthur Conan Doyle purists will carp at the presentation. My Leader and I both like it.
Father Brown. (BBC1)
G.K. Chesterton’s detective priest has memorably been played on film by both Alec Guinness and Kenneth More, but I fancy this new series may establish Mark Williams as the definitive Father Brown in much the same way that the long-running television series Poirot proved actor David Suchet to be the only actor ever to convert that cardboard character into a real person.
NCIS Season 10. (FOX)
They’re back again in full flow. Caught up with and despatched their immediate villain, too. Didn’t buy my storyline (offered somewhere way back), but did produce a comeuppance scene in which Gibbs delivered us from ever setting eyes on the rascal again. It was very well done.
They couldn’t have afforded me anyway.
AND SO TO THE SNOW.
To the disappointment of the kids, we never get it that bad over here. Just a sprinkling. My Leader, bless her, has managed even the worst of it with grips on the soles of her shoes and her walking stick.
Me, I still remember 1946 in Catterick Camp, Yorkshire and winter any year in Klagenfurt, Austria. Now that was snow. (Swing that lamp!)
Wherever you are, though, wrap up warmly and mind how you go.
I’ve re-read a few past posts and am as ready as I’m likely to be to resume the sporadic scribbling. Gawdblessyer if y’ still look in. So what has been happening? Well…
ACROSS THE WATER.
In Portsmouth.
Maureen’s sister Ruth died on the 18th December. Most of the family attended the funeral on the 10th January. At the time of her death she was two days past her 87th birthday. She lived in Portsmouth most of her life, survived a husband and son, could be moody at times but had a heart of gold and willingly gave shelter to an adolescent Mo when it was most needed. RIP Ruthie Lea.
Worst experience of the day: the taxi to Portchester Crematorium from The Hard at Portsmouth was the least disabled-passenger-friendly we could possibly have chanced upon and was driven by the least helpful driver. We shall not avail ourselves of that one’s services again.
Best experience: being surrounded by the familiar - and unfamiliar - faces of a large family and its friends. Even on such a sad occasion it was a joy to meet those who came to have a chat.
In London.
Another competition to find new writing talent is being launched by newspaper of the year i. This time interested university students are being invited to submit (in editor Stefano Hatfield’s own words) “450 words on one of the following five relatively timeless topics: whether Britain should stay in or leave the EU; the decline of our high streets and what that means; why arts and culture matter in a recession; a defence of modern-day football; and do Britain’s young study the right subjects and work hard enough?” If none of those subjects appeals, the competitors can submit one on a subject of their choice, but are warned to avoid topics which may have “fallen off the news agenda by the time columns are published next month.”
Deadline for email entries to i@independent.co.uk is 12 noon on Monday 28th January, should contain the word iWriters in the header and entrants should include their course and place of study.
If I was studying English/journalism at university I’d be emailing my entry right now, chance how genuine the prospects would be. I’m only sorry I’m more than sixty years too old, went not to university, have only ever been marginally competitive and would have been a useless foot-in-the-door dickhead, anyway. It would have been a daily column or nothing for me.
But good luck if you are an undergrad who sees this as a career chance and competes accordingly. I wish you every success.
And when it comes to luck, in Vauxhall last week two crane drivers escaped death when a helicopter hit their crane and crashed in flames. Seems the crane was not manned because the senior driver overslept. Surely they were the luckiest people in the metropolis that day.
ON THE ISLAND.
Christmas over.
Our little living room looks strangely bare bereft of the accumulated models of Santa Claus gathered over the years, the half-tree in plastic Canadian spruce and the annual welcoming decorations. Put in black and white it all sounds decidedly naff and probably is, but we like it and so do all the little kids and most of the adults who see it. Them as don’t can please themselves. To my mind, the most worthwhile quote from any celebrity last year was made by the actor and film director Clint Eastwood who (asked what his fans thought of him playing older roles) said that one of the advantages of getting old is you no longer need give a crap what anybody thinks. I’ll second that.
My Leader.
Despite a few confidence-sapping falls, progress following the hip replacement is being steadily maintained. Expert opinion has it that a bout of polio at an early age weakened her left side and it has now been decided that physiotherapy will be of benefit. My Leader is a fighter and the experts are sound.
Beyond that one can only hope.
ON TELEVISION.
Last Tango in Halifax. (BBC1)
I recorded the complete series of this romantic drama by Sally Wainwright and we watched the episodes in one viewing session. It was playwriting at its very best and the acting was superb: the stars were (in alphabetical order) Derek Jacobi, Sarah Lancashire, Anne Reid and Nicola Walker. Some cast, eh?
We thoroughly enjoyed it and there is talk of another series.
Elementary. (Sky Living)
This is at least a positive attempt to use the Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson characters differently. Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu play the roles in a likeable way and only Arthur Conan Doyle purists will carp at the presentation. My Leader and I both like it.
Father Brown. (BBC1)
G.K. Chesterton’s detective priest has memorably been played on film by both Alec Guinness and Kenneth More, but I fancy this new series may establish Mark Williams as the definitive Father Brown in much the same way that the long-running television series Poirot proved actor David Suchet to be the only actor ever to convert that cardboard character into a real person.
NCIS Season 10. (FOX)
They’re back again in full flow. Caught up with and despatched their immediate villain, too. Didn’t buy my storyline (offered somewhere way back), but did produce a comeuppance scene in which Gibbs delivered us from ever setting eyes on the rascal again. It was very well done.
They couldn’t have afforded me anyway.
AND SO TO THE SNOW.
To the disappointment of the kids, we never get it that bad over here. Just a sprinkling. My Leader, bless her, has managed even the worst of it with grips on the soles of her shoes and her walking stick.
Me, I still remember 1946 in Catterick Camp, Yorkshire and winter any year in Klagenfurt, Austria. Now that was snow. (Swing that lamp!)
Wherever you are, though, wrap up warmly and mind how you go.
