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The Sincerest For Of Poetry
Apprenticed To My Mother
Walking Into Trouble
Dead Flies and Sherry Trifle
The Last Will Of Sven Andersen
Booms And Busts
Buster & Moo
Salisbury Square
My Father and Other Liars
Life In A Conversation
Life, in a Grain of Sand
Life In A Flash
This is what I blog about
Tag Archives: names
How to choose a name #dog #memories
How do you chose a name? Mine was apparently after Geoffrey Chaucer the medieval English author (my mother, pretentious… you could say) and my brother after our grandparents (Christian and surnames). We just went with what we liked except… both … Continue reading
Of Course It’s The Germans… #officelife
When my law firm decided, circa 1990, that the way to future glory was to expand our international offering, we already had a presence in Paris, Madrid and Brussels. The aim was to cover the major European nations which meant … Continue reading
France and Me: An Unrequited Something Or Other
Last week, during an episode of the interminable soap opera that is Brexit – nothing quite defines us as our inability to leave – President Macron of France apparently stood out against 26 other EU nations and said, loosely translated … Continue reading
Why did I have such a stupid bloody name? #name #humour
Le Pard. Why not Smith? Or Jones? Or something humbly bland? Geoffrey rather than Jeffrey is bad enough – my German colleagues assumed the ‘e’ was silent making me Goff, a sort of lisping noiriste of a lawyer – but … Continue reading
On the road to nowhere
As a youngster I loved a pre Python TV show aimed at children called ‘Do not adjust your set’. Palin, Jones and Idle starred alongside Neil Innes and the Bonzo Dog Band. Denise Coffey also played many a part. One … Continue reading
Me and France: a tale of a label and a mirror
On Saturday last I sat watching another instalment in the long running ‘war without weapons’ that are sporting engagements with France. France won. Deservedly so. As it was rugby the final whistle is always tinged with a frisson of regret: … Continue reading