Our lunch on the first Sunday of February was very special. Just five of us were around the table - my wife Rohan, myself, our two sons and my sister - and for the occasion the number was exactly right. Only a few days before, Rohan had been discharged from hospital and this feast was…
Strapped for cash
Members of the Greyhares' generation have lived through two seismic monetary advances. In 1993 it was the introduction of the free movement of goods and capital across Europe's Common Market. Six years later we witnessed the introduction of the Euro-Zone's common currency - the euro. Now we are facing a third and, for the individual,…
A dog’s afterlife
The older I get, the more I wonder at certain of the people around me, the things they profess to enjoy, and the way they behave. In some respects, I confess, my puzzlement is my own fault; I simply cannot be bothered to find out. It was like that all those years ago when, at…
Spread a little happiness
Maybe it’s a generation thing but I am not, nor never have been, a natty dresser. Quality yes, fashion no. Indeed, for many years I aspired to the anonymous dress style of a deputy bank manager. Nowadays, if I do wear something fashionable, it is almost certainly a gift from someone in touch - usually my…
The uncommon reader
We, that is people in general, seem to have a compelling desire to label. I am talking specifically about the way we give nicknames to things, nicknames that are adopted by the people, rather than created by some official. I am sure the British are in no way unique, but here naming relates to anything from a building - in…
A Morris man
For me there is something ominous about the catwalk season. Within weeks of shows in Paris, London or Milan a new wave of designs for clothing or accessories will adorn high street shop windows and with the help of articles in newspaper and ubiquitous promotion the next round of frenzied fashion buying will begin. Heels,…
The order of things
On my haunches on the garage floor, aged eight My father’s oil-grained hand reaches out from under the car I place a bright chrome wrench in his outstretched palm No, not that one, not yet! He can tell by the feel - No, I need the three-eighth Whitworth! Its heavy maw hints at gas pipes…
Russian unorthodox
It is often said that underground theatre thrives where there is state oppression. And, by all accounts, Russia is currently a country where oppression is rampant. Censorship, freedoms curtailed by draconian laws, a harsh penal system, widespread corruption, centralised power - altogether not a pretty picture. So when Russian performing arts came to London last…