‘Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.’ – Douglas Adams. ‘Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.’ – Groucho Marx (but apparently not necessarily said by him – how disappointing). The week has passed, first slowly, then quickly, then slowly again, as if performing a half-arsed foxtrot. Seizing the opportunity afforded by … Continue reading Lunchtime, and other illusions
The week has passed sportily. Wimbledon, Tour de France, Test match, rugby. Strawberries, cream, energy drinks, Pimm's. The thwack of woolly leather balls on the relentlessly pedalling thighs of burly bearded men, echoed by the primal shrieking of Victoria Azarenka (which, I realised this week, sounds disturbingly like the flight call of a buzzard). The … Continue reading Being a good sport
The week has passed, by recent standards, relatively uneventfully. On Friday, too late, it occurred to me that two weeks and many aeons ago I’d made a vague plan to go and watch some cricket at Guildford. This was prompted by Kumar Sangakkara’s recent, and almost unprecedented, run of success. (Non cricket-fans – stick with … Continue reading Putting the ‘ex’ in ‘expert’
6/6/15 10.15 pm I cycle from my home in West Norwood to Crystal Palace Park. About ten minutes, most of it uphill. My legs never enjoy the uphill thing, but this time they somehow intuit that this is not a one-off, merely the prelude to a long night of activity. They chide me gently. “Are … Continue reading I like to ride my bicycle. Sort of.