Author: John Curd

Ride a White Swan

A pair of swans has been nesting beside a bridge over the Grand Union Canal close to our house. On Thursday last week I noticed that the little grey balls of fluff had hatched. On Friday en route to a

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Birthday Lunch

Keith’s birthday. that is: today. Keith doesn’t “do” birthdays. Keith doesn’t do birthdays so much that he doesn’t even know in which month his parents birthdays fall. Curious. In order not to do Keith’s birthday today, since it was a

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Splashes of Colour

I really should know better. On Monday we set off on plan A with Keith and Marlene. I can’t remember what plan A was but I do remember thinking that my camera would not be required. After a mere 5

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Windsor Castle

I’ve been before but so many bottles of wine ago that I can remember hardly anything about it. Our visitors, Keith and Marlene from Richmond, Va., had never been but it was high on their list of places to see,

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Blink, Missed!

One early start a week is, it seems, not enough. Having awoken on Thursday at 5:00 AM to get down to Heathrow and collect our friends, Keith and Marlene Stillman from Richmond, Virginia, today we were roused from sleep at

Andy Anniversary

One useful diversion for me during the last colder and longer than usual winter was designing and building a website for our local U3A (University of the 3rd Age). I built it using my favourite piece of blogging/Content Management System

Hypocritic Oath

On Wednesday we were all treated to a graphic demonstration of the hypocrisy of our dearly beloathed Prime Minister, Gordon Brown. The news hounds must have been wetting themselves with glee at such a faux pas from the man seeking

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Loyalty Penalties, Part 2

Day 1 back at home after a wonderful trip walking the coast and hills of Dorset. Naturally, one of the first jobs is to go through the mail, both snail- and e-, that has accumulated during one’s absence. One missive

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Road Rage

The end of what can only be described as a absolutely perfect two weeks in Dorset. Our track record for weather thus far this year had not been good; our earlier two weeks in Spain were damper than we’d hoped

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A Beer in Beer

[Ed: well, I suppose it had to be done.] The first thing to note about a town called Beer is that every business starts to look like a public house: “Beer Greengrocers”, “Beer Yacht Club”, “Beer General Stores”. But, I’m

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