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A sort of appreciation of lager, just not necessarily the taste. Lager arrives after WW II.

The Books and Book Life of Monique Roffey. I have found blogging hard these last few months. Or perhaps I am just not a blogger, not committed? I have been teaching at Totleigh Barton. With that nice poet Cliff Yates. And that young David Flufeder. A writers house is grubby and full of books. By Carson McCullers, that Amercian prodigy. I like her work very much.

Manly Pursuits How to Beat the Australians. How to Stop Your Mother-in-Law From Drowning. The English Book of Changes. On Translating French Swear Words. On Translating French Swear Words. On Translating French Swear Words. On Translating French Swear Words. The facetious disease is just as easy to recognise .

Other brands are available, but make sure the label says PX. Mackies Luxury Dairy Ice Cream. Which does exactly what it says on the, erm, carton. With the former rather than the latter. I venture to suggest that it might work extremely well with Christmas pudding. Alcohol connoisseurs to cater for at the time I made the recipe, and it still lasted us. As the ice cream melts a little, you may wish to stir the sauce into it some mo.

The go-to site for what makes life worth living in and around Petersfield, Hampshire, and some other stuff too. For flaneurs, bon vivants, indeed boulevardiers of every complexion - why go anywhere else? Tuesday, 29 December 2009. As Nicholas Rombes says in his concluding remarks. Like all great albums, it resists interpretation.

Did she really get an A in oral English? Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl. I ought to go to bed. Small crayons in the box.

The Continuing Misadventures Of Mathew Frost. Friday, 18 June 2010. Ode to a fantastic weekend. Well not so much an. More just an excited retelling of last weekend.

I then got to thinking about what numbers mean something to me and here they are. It set the way for many other drunken nights out. Monday, 10 May 2010.

Dead Jew Comes To Life. Upon my arrival in Oxford on Sunday morning I was greeted by a rather handsomely dressed Australian gentleman with no teeth and more beard than face who insisted on following me through town towards the bus stop. He wished me happy Easter and wanted to shake my hand. Tuesday, 2 March 2010.