Author Archive
Does everyone else of my age repeatedly get quizzed on how it feels to grow old? That’s my experience, unless I’m imagining things. “Grandpa, what’s it like to be eighty-seven?” Some things the little darlings can perfectly well see for themselves; they know that I tend to wobble just a trifle as I walk; they…
They used to say – and perhaps they still do – that when you tackle something in a roundabout manner you are going “all around the Wrekin.” Somehow, it seems to be happening to me all the time nowadays, in one way or another, indoors and out, talking or acting, and I simply can’t help…
At least seventy years have gone by since I first discovered the delight of playing with language. The place was a sandy beach in Wales where, as a schoolboy on holiday, I chanced upon an old man – a native of the place, I believe – who sat there in the August sunshine reading poems…
Graham Dukes falls back on a long-dead poet to get him out of a tight spot… Let us get this straight. I am a Doctor of Medicine, with several framed diplomas on my wall to prove it. Unlike most medical doctors however, I decided at the start that I never wanted to make diagnoses, prescribe…
Eureka? Wasn’t that Archimedes’ cry of triumph, two-and-a-half millennia ago, when he jumped out of his hot bath in Syracuse to proclaim to all around that he had hit on the principle of specific gravity? Quite. Since then, the term has been sadly devalued, having been imposed on any number of real or supposed…
Do you daydream? I suspect you do, just now and again. Many of the people whom I know seem to meet with the temptation once in a long while, though they don’t all admit to it, let alone confess that they ever give way to it. But me – if truth be told, I must…
Henry Wedson was a clockmaker, and a picksome craftsman of the best sort, gifted with sharp eyes, agile fingers and an acute mind. I encountered him in his tranquil workplace in a Gloucester suburb forty years ago, and spent an unforgettable hour in his company. It is too often said that, living as we do…
I loathe plastic. I detest plastic. I even… No, before I become downright abusive, I must put a question or two to the reader. Tell me: did anybody ever love plastic? Or even admire it? Did anybody even ask for it? Not that I know of. It was simply there, all of a sudden, dumb and…
About the author
Graham Dukes is a lawyer, physician, author and church organist. He lives in Oslo with his wife and co-contributor Elizabet Helsing.
Does everyone else of my age repeatedly get quizzed on how it feels to grow old? That’s my experience, unless I’m imagining things. “Grandpa, what’s it like to be eighty-seven?” Some things the little darlings can perfectly well see for themselves; they know that I tend to wobble just a trifle as I walk; they…
They used to say – and perhaps they still do – that when you tackle something in a roundabout manner you are going “all around the Wrekin.” Somehow, it seems to be happening to me all the time nowadays, in one way or another, indoors and out, talking or acting, and I simply can’t help…
At least seventy years have gone by since I first discovered the delight of playing with language. The place was a sandy beach in Wales where, as a schoolboy on holiday, I chanced upon an old man – a native of the place, I believe – who sat there in the August sunshine reading poems…
Graham Dukes falls back on a long-dead poet to get him out of a tight spot… Let us get this straight. I am a Doctor of Medicine, with several framed diplomas on my wall to prove it. Unlike most medical doctors however, I decided at the start that I never wanted to make diagnoses, prescribe…
Eureka? Wasn’t that Archimedes’ cry of triumph, two-and-a-half millennia ago, when he jumped out of his hot bath in Syracuse to proclaim to all around that he had hit on the principle of specific gravity? Quite. Since then, the term has been sadly devalued, having been imposed on any number of real or supposed…
Do you daydream? I suspect you do, just now and again. Many of the people whom I know seem to meet with the temptation once in a long while, though they don’t all admit to it, let alone confess that they ever give way to it. But me – if truth be told, I must…
Henry Wedson was a clockmaker, and a picksome craftsman of the best sort, gifted with sharp eyes, agile fingers and an acute mind. I encountered him in his tranquil workplace in a Gloucester suburb forty years ago, and spent an unforgettable hour in his company. It is too often said that, living as we do…
I loathe plastic. I detest plastic. I even… No, before I become downright abusive, I must put a question or two to the reader. Tell me: did anybody ever love plastic? Or even admire it? Did anybody even ask for it? Not that I know of. It was simply there, all of a sudden, dumb and…
Graham Dukes is a lawyer, physician, author and church organist. He lives in Oslo with his wife and co-contributor Elizabet Helsing.
