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Generally I like the Headline Of The Day candidates to be freshly-minted and just plucked at the moment of perfect ripeness from whichever ...

One of the things that's kept me at a reasonable level of fitness during lockdown is Nia's love for running, which has acted as an i...

My mother, who evidently keeps an eye and ear out for these things, alerts me to a couple of appearances of our mutual relative and science...

All Shook Up by William Bedford.  It's the late 1950s (which year is never specified exactly but the Elvis song which gives the novel ...

Nia and I fulfilled a long-held ambition last weekend when we went down to the Transporter Bridge and did the high-level traverse of the b...

In a poignant echo of the current pandemic sweeping the nation, I'm afraid I have to report the tragic demise of another kitchen light b...

Well, I promised you stats, and stats you shall have, specifically some comparisons of the components of my book-reading triple-century. Th...

Sea Glass by Anita Shreve. It's 1929. So, already, no prizes for guessing a couple of key upcoming plot points . but let's not get...

It's been a busy few months what with being in the midst of a global pandemic and all, but life goes on. Well, for most of us, anyway, b...

A breathily-re-imagined version of Pink Floyd's Eclipse (the last song on their perennially humongo-selling 1973 album The Dark Side Of...

Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler. Maggie Moran is approaching fifty, with long-standing attachments to her husband Ira and their family hous...

Last Night In Twisted River by John Irving. It's 1954, and we're in the inhospitable northern counties of New Hampshire, right up ne...

One thing that has always intrigued me, and almost certainly no-one else in recorded history, and which I was reminded of while we were up i...

Whisky round-up part two, as promised , if somewhat belatedly. Here are two whiskies very slightly (but only very slightly) more out of the ...