A Shell House and Some Up-Dates

Barmeath has a shell house built in the woods in the 19th century as a destination for walks and picnics, I was surprised to come upon a 20th century one in the centre of London.

There’s a Welcome on the Mat

Camden Square in north London has beautiful architecture and is a designated conservation area. Behind the elegant facade of one house in this elegant garden square lies tragedy. Amy Winehouse died here in 2011. However, another facade hides a very different story.

Published
Categorised as Charities

Errata

Oh to be able to call this post Erratum. Looking back on old posts they are littered with spelling and grammar mistakes and inconsistencies. Yesterday provided at least one especially goofy example.

Palladio in the Park

I rarely visit Regent’s Park, perhaps once a year to go to the open-air theatre, so I was pleased to walk through part of it on Monday on my way to luncheon in Belsize Park.

Ladies’ Day

The Ladies’ Challenge Plate has been competed for at Henley since 1845 but ladies are not eligible for this event. The Coffee Room at many London clubs is the only room where coffee is not served. So I wanted to see if there would be any ladies at Ladies’ Day at Cheltenham this week.

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Categorised as Sport

A Fisherman’s Tale

I was born on 3rd April 1954 but I’m not fishing for a birthday card. On 2nd April 1817 the Salford Anglers’ Society was founded and they have been fishing for almost two hundred years, so save your card for them next year.

The Shooting Party

It may, or possibly may not, interest you to hear about my experience backing Zac in his London mayoral campaign and I had intended to kick off by saying that I’d never done anything like this before, until I remembered…

Hug a Nuke

You can stop hugging hoodies, there’s a nuke that nobody loves except the Conservative government and me.

The Faultless Painter

An old friend told me this week that he is taking an evening course at the Slade School of Fine Art but The Faultless Painter doesn’t refer to him. It is the title of a poem by Robert Browning about the Renaissance artist, Andrea del Sarto.

Tom’s School Days

Something, I’ll tell you what later, triggered this memory. About twenty years ago Sarah asked me to go with her to see her godson act in his house play at Eton.