Expertise is relative. I am, as I write, watching a fencing tournament. I know nothing about fencing. Not strictly true.
We’ve been saying it for weeks. Spring is on the way. Hazel catkins hanging brightly from whippy branches, snowdrops pushing
It’s so tempting to think they do it for us. They don’t, of course, any more than the setting sun
I was feeling grim. In fact, if you’ve got a moment (and with due gratitude and apologies to Richard Curtis,