Author Archives: j futrell

For Sonia

  I can see her over 20 years ago when she will have been younger than I am now in a black one piece swimming costume, slender and erect. The waist of a model and the shoulders of an athlete … Continue reading

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Taking To The Hills – Malvern

  The most significant change to my life since being dumped from The Sunday Times by a man with a name synonymous with lavatory cleaning is no longer automatically being shown the best room in the hotel. Nowadays I must … Continue reading

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A bigger SPLASH

  The most important thing for Kim and I to remember today (November 5) is to empty the bath. It remains half full or thereabouts for much of the week and sometimes longer, depending on how infrequently either of us … Continue reading

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no goodbyes

Friends and those on the fringes of friendship don’t walk out on you overnight, they just sort of fade away, like sunsets. Okay, there’s a handful of I would and have crossed to the other side of the street to … Continue reading

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A Pub On The Road To Nowhere In Particular

  My favourite pub isn’t on the way to anywhere in particular. It’s off-the-beaten-track, its isolation playing a key part in why I rate it so highly after just two visits. I clearly recall departing on both occasions with little … Continue reading

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Ever been to south west London

…the riverbanks, avenues and playing fields, beat clubs and bars and clothes shops that were the architecture of my first twenty or so years; the first three in Manchester notwithstanding. An adolescence upon a  stretch of Thames that winds south … Continue reading

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Passenger On Board

The first four hours are the toughest. Traffic from the West End to, well, wherever? People, hordes of them, with one aim – to escape, to get to the pub, to see the kids, to watch television, to kiss the … Continue reading

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happy birthday

  When winter’s gone and chills are scant, Our thoughts do turn to Polyphant. Therein amid a blaze of grandiflora blooms,  A steadfast clock and sun drenched rooms, Each one radiant with wood and dust and webs and brass. Where … Continue reading

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Tied In Knots

  I’ll be frank, I didn’t know whether to be flattered or alarmed when a friend casually noted that I was wearing a tie while walking Asta on the beach. Not in a business suity sorta way with a white … Continue reading

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It’s a dog’s life on Tregirls

The oceanic panarama at Tregirls’ changes all the time. This half mile stretch of sand from St.George’s Well to Harbour Cove, washed by the Atlantic and patterned with a patchwork imprint of thousands of webbed feet, changes from one hour … Continue reading

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