Month: April 2017

Dinner at The Dorchester

James (Jim) Lees-Milne has plenty to say in his diaries about people he meets in the course of his work for the National Trust – often not nice things. Others are charitable about him.

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Categorised as History

Playing My Song

Jason Butler in FT Money last Saturday is playing my song. His article concludes: Market signs are telling UK investors that opportunity remains for diversification into the growing world beyond the borders. I am trying to position myself for a downward correction in equities. Safety plays are bonds, gold and emerging markets. If, like me,… Continue reading Playing My Song

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Categorised as Business

Counter Fodder

My favourite City restaurant in the 1970s was Turner’s Brasserie in Broad Street Station Arcade. If there were more than two of us we sat at a table with a red and white checked tablecloth attended by matronly waitresses.

Let Us Pray

The Royal Hospital Chelsea is an appropriate place to worship on Easter Sunday. The fresco in the apse is Sebastiano Ricci’s The Resurrection.

Seduction by Numbers

A favourite teenage goddaughter gave me an unusual but practical birthday present – a seduction kit, the three components of which are gratifyingly high end.

Avenue

The Spectator, 17th November 1923, reports:

St Paul’s

At the end of March 2012, I went with my cousin to St Paul’s Cathedral for a service to mark the centenary of Scott’s doomed expedition to the South Pole.  My cousin is of an adventurous disposition and had been in Antarctica, qualifying him for two tickets to the service.

North Atlantic Drift

In March 2016 I wrote a post about North Atlantic Smaller Companies investment trust, A Matter of Trust. A year later I have bought some shares and I will tell you why.

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Categorised as Business

In the Papers

Two stories in The Times on Monday; NHS seeks £10bn cash boost from hedge funds and Gulls in danger as thieves steal eggs for restaurant kitchens.

Diaries

Since last November George Lyttelton and Rupert Hart-Davis have been my companions at bedtime but all good things come to an end and I have come to the end of their letters. There are more than six hundred and they span some six years.