I am an inveterate whistler. I have been a ‘siffleur’ for years, whistling happily to myself when I am alone and, more particularly, if out walking. The pattern is fairly routine - I step outside, stand on the pavement and start up. It is automatic. I don’t plan what tune will emerge, although at the moment it…
Safe in my Mind’s Eye?
Once a week Fahar and I play chess. Recently I arrived feeling sad and in the same coat and hat I had just worn at a friend’s funeral. Fahar and I always chat as we set out the pieces, so I had a moment to explain what had happened. After offering his condolences he commented…
Spoiled for Choice, Abandoned for Nothing
The plan was simple and it worked - well almost. We, that is my grandson River; his Dad, Joshua and I (‘Gar’) would browse in Hamleys, ‘the world’s biggest toy shop’. We would start on the seventh floor and work our way down and, on the way would not be tempted - we would buy nothing. …
An Encounter with an Old Neighbour
Just across the road from our cottage in Tréguennec is the shell of a chapel. It has been deconsecrated for several years and now stands empty in the middle of a grassy lawn. Although not old itself - the panel over the door reads 1878 - it was built on the site of a church…
Being in Touch
To celebrate our wedding anniversary this summer we spent a few days in a tiny pocket of Southern France. Now back home, it is memories of three experiences that linger uppermost and all three have one thing in common; each was emotional. None of these feelings related to friends or personal issues, but, to the…
Lessons from a Wizened Potato
At the start of our summer in France I was rightly taken to task. Jeni, our house guest, chided me for failing to take care of a wrinkled potato. Against all odds, the potato, which was no bigger than a walnut, had survived the winter in a cupboard and later, in a search for daylight, had produced a spindly…
Dressed to Kill?
Words can jolt and, for me, an armed policeman’s reply did just that. This story, which is about his riposte, has three key strands; my conversation with the officer as he patrolled London’s City Airport; my dress sense, or lack of it; my habit of exchanging pleasantries with those in authority. When walking in busy…
When River came to Stay
Something very special happened in August. Our grandson, River stayed with us in our cottage in France and after being together day-in, day-out for a week, for the first time I felt I really knew him. We understood each other and shared jokes and when there was a hint of a smile or a cry,…
Unseasonal Blackberries Save the Day
On a long walk miles from our home in Brittany, my wife Rohan saw some ripe blackberries. It was in the last week of July so they had no right to have ripened, indeed the berries around our house were still as they should be - small and green with their drupelets (their surface ‘bobbles’) tightly packed. But of…
A Baker and a Magician
There is something magical about bakers and bread-making. How is it possible that a bland mixture of flour and water can be turned overnight into the delicious, still-warm loaf I get each day? After years of dreaming, I finally asked our own baker if I could watch him as he worked in the early hours.…
