Serifos There’s no high life here, only family life, so I’ve been hitting the books about great Greeks of the past, and they sure make today’s bunch look puny. Philosophers, playwrights, statesmen, artists, poets, orators, sculptors; the ancients had them all. After 2,500 years, they’ve never been equalled. I was once walking around the Greek
‘There’s no need to wipe down your tray table,’ screeched Heidi, chief steward of the ‘amazing team you have looking after you today’. ‘Because for your safety today,’ she went on, ‘the aircraft is deep-cleaned between flights by specialists.’ Which brought to mind the chain gang of depressed women that one sometimes sees filing aboard
We have beans, peas, potatoes, tomatoes, butternut squash, plums and strawberries growing in our garden. I dug up and replanted half the flower beds with food when lockdown started, during a moment of panic about where all this was going. We also began a store of tinned goods in the cellar. Don’t all shout at
Nothing but good news this week. Hurrah! Firstly, I know you’ll be thrilled to hear that my don’t-eat-anything-white diet is working a treat. That’s no bread, rice, pasta, potatoes, cheese, cream, milk, sugar and so on. And, yes, clever clogs, cauliflower is allowed. I’ve also throttled back on the vino and managed to shed 7lb
I started a dating site last Sunday. Not words I ever thought I’d write, but I’ve become a kind of den mother to a large group of people who believe the risk of coronavirus has been exaggerated, and it dawned on me that this could be a useful service for them. The idea is that
You are, shall we say, a famous commentator, one of a tiny elite in the British media. You are paid hundreds of thousands of pounds, and are hugely admired. Then at a time of some crisis for others, one of your employers suggests you do 50 columns rather than 52. For exactly the same money,
Q. On my way to Devon recently I stopped for lunch with an impeccably mannered friend. He produced first crab meat, then smoked salmon with a delicious salad of avocado, lettuce etc. Halfway through I noticed he had four or five prawns on his plate and I had none. As prawns are one of my
Snaps + Rye is a Nordic-themed restaurant and delicatessen on the Golborne Road, at the shabby and thrilling edges of Notting Hill, just north of the Westway, a road I uncomplicatedly love, probably because it takes me from Notting Hill to places I like better. Notting Hill fell to gentrification long ago — it gasps
Sometimes when I ask my stertorous husband in his armchair whether he is asleep, he replies with a start: ‘Just thinking.’ If so, he seems recently to have been overthinking. Overthinking is a pretty annoying word, often used by people not noted as great thinkers. Taylor Swift, the belle of West Reading, contrasts it with
