Hereward

I can highly recommend the Wyndham-Banerjee series by Abir Mukherjee, set in 1920s Calcutta.

I just came to mention this. What with other recent reports about Ryan Jones and Joe Marler, and many other less celebrated players, despite my (waning) love for the game, I’m not sure I can morally support it anymore. My love of the scrum and the “big hit” just feels reprehensible at this point.

Aussies, can you hop over and check the Kiwis are alright? I’m worried about them.

Thank you for such a characteristically beautiful elegy, Timmett. Your gift for words is undiminished. Lilith was a lovely person, a star of the board, and also tremendous fun. I only met her once, in London when the world still made sense, but it was a great evening. Her insight, curiosity and joie de vivre were obvious. One of the best, and very much missed. Love to you, Timmett, as you deal with this terrible blow.

I realise the difficulty of elaborating on things we don’t understand, but I’d be interested in any examples you can think of.

I’ve read it. It was thoroughly entertaining. Amusing, good characterisation and very, very English and middle class, quite deliberately so.

As always on this subject, I agree about the awfulness of the film depiction and my admiration for Denethor. I don’t think, up to the pyre, I would have done differently.

No, not that I’ve ever heard.

I don’t think the tour will happen. Which I don’t mind, as, despite being a massive fan of tradition, I loath the Lions concept.

Yeah, I didn’t watch it until yesterday evening either. Totally amazing game. As a London Irish fan, and man of discernment and taste, I’m required to loath Quins, but hell, that was some performance.

That was a shocking and embarrassing performance. Time to go, Jones, the Mourinho of international rugby.

Christie is great, so are some silent films. Writing off anything after either is silly.

If you are interested in NI during the Troubles, you should definitely read Adrian McKinty’s DI Duffy series. They are brilliant.

E.M. Powell’s Stanton and Barling series, set in 12th century England, is pretty good, too. It’s also nice to have a Shardlake-type novel that doesn’t give you a hernia.

Ann Cleeves is a birder, as is her husband, whom she met when she was working at the bird observatory in Shetland. One of the Shetland books is set there, but apart from that birding is not prominent in that particular series, unlike the Vera series.