Sunday 29 December 2013

Best dressed Christmas window!

Each Christmas without fail - there is a shop in town that always gets it just right. I don't quite know what it is, but when I see the annual Christmas display in Bridport Old Books I can't help but feel Christmas has come. You can't quite see it in my photo, which doesn't do the display justice by the way, but they always have a super piece of antiquarian ephemera which says "Seasons Greetings from Bridport" - splendid. I feel quite sad when it comes down!

Saturday 28 December 2013

What was in your stocking?

Were you lucky enough to get any fine knitwear like this? Or even a new briar pipe?

Tuesday 24 December 2013

Christmas anticipations

F Gregory Brown - 1921
Charles Burton - 1930
Christmas Anticipations - 1922
Charles Burton - 1931

Sunday 22 December 2013

Citrus Cheer

Our neighbour has fleetingly returned from his home in Portugal - the gift of his very own home grown tangerines, mandarins and clementines was just the ticket to add some extra fragrance of Christmas to our house. They taste just as good as they look. They were hanging on his trees in Portugal yesterday and now they are here, bringing with them their citrus cheer! 

Thursday 19 December 2013

Wot's the price of swedes boy?

The last few weeks have been chaotic to say the least. Not in a bad way, but my usual slow pace has been even slower over these last eight weeks due to enforced idleness for knee operation, recovery and recuperation.

So, the bonus of the Bridport Literary Festival, a trip to London to see Uncle Overend and Mott The Hoople at the O2 and a house move was almost as much as a quiet country lad could cope with.

The two events I attended at the Literary Festival were a joy. I was thoroughly entertained by some of the most eloquent speakers I have had the pleasure to listen to (Neil Ansell, Tim Dee, Charles Rangeley-Wilson, David Wilkinson and Dave Goulson) had both audiences spellbound. Special mention must also be made at the entertaining and complimentary way Nick Fisher introduced and managed both events - super stuff!

Eggardon sky
In days gone by when country bumpkins arrived in the smoke to sell their vegetable delights the cockney chaps would shout "wot's the price of swedes boy?" - my journey was hell (diversions and deviations to disorientate the unwary), but worth it when I got there. A walk up to town at home takes an age, not because of the distance, but due to the chatter with bumped into friends and complete strangers met. It's just what it is like and part of the charm. It was a shock when I naively and automatically did the same with all and sundry on tube and bus and a smile was met with a head hung low on my way to the megalith that was the O2 arena. I did indeed feel like said country bumpkin.

Much better inside - a delightful Chas and Dave poster made me chuckle (I like the sound of More Tea Vicar!) and I soon struck up a conversation with Aerial Bender (not of the Allcock variety) and me old mucker Rotters. Uncle Overend and the band played a stormer and with a 74 year old Ian Hunter I felt some of the reviews were a tad below the belt - they were superb. John Robb's excellent review of their Manchester gig sums up the whole scene most eloquently.

Chas & Dave at the O2

A quick beer with Uncle afterwards and home - I stopped in the early hours to breathe in the first proper frost of the late autumn overlooking the Jurassic Coast. In the bright moonlit sky a glorious shooting star welcomed me home.

At that moment I thought I am glad I know the price of swedes and long may that be the case!