Life In 79

When our two year stewardship of 'The DSM' magazine came to an end we found we had lots of lovely time on our hands. I'm not a golfer and Anna, my wife, doesn't like gardening (she will sit on the lawn mower, for a couple of hours, but that's it). So time began to drag. Anna announced she needed 'a new project'. This made me nervous as her new projects usually involve me. How right I was. For the past eighteen months we have been renovating a small town house. Our life has revolved around the project; everyday scraping, sanding, filling, painting - I don't own an article of clothing that doesn't have a dab of paint on, I was constantly picking flakes of lead paint from my hair and don't get me started on my fingernails.  As well as learning things about renovation (like never doing it again), we have learnt things about each other. Yes, I won't lie, our marriage has been sorely tested. Arguments have occurred and tears have been shed (althoug...

It is that time of the year when a collection of hillbilly vehicles appear at the edge of our garden. The sound of birds chirping is shattered by the screaming of baying dogs and a Boggis, Bunce and Bean collection of men in Hi Vis orange jackets, looking like an angry mob of Liberal Democrats tanked up on moonshine and eager to kill anything that moves (often each other or some innocent bystander) muster. Yes, it's that Chasse time of year.   If you are off out for a leisurely stroll after Sunday lunch be sure to don your striped bobble hat and multicoloured coat. Now is not the time to go a-wandering down a country lane in your wild boar jacket with complimentary coypu hat.   I'm not good with guns. Even the recent sight of soldiers at Poitiers Airport packing automatic weapons, made me break out in a sweat. My family's history is peppered with gun related incidents. In fact I'm lucky to still be alive.   My grandfather only had one eye. I erroneously thought he had l...