Monthly Archives: April 2011

TV crew trapped in Cary Grant’s Bristol dining room (Rousse)

The presenter turned to camera and proudly declared “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Cary Grant’s dining room”. Out of shot, I fingered the tatty lime green wallpaper and concluded that the flower design dated from the 1950s at the … Continue reading

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Loss of voice and mind (Rousse)

When I returned to work after a bout of illness I discovered two things. First, builders had demolished all the women’s toilets in my wing. Second, when it was announced that I was off sick, colleagues had queued at KC’s … Continue reading

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Belle’s birthday bash

Considering this trip to Stoke was my birthday treat, I seemed to be having quite a lot of work to do. I had to supervise the rehearsals of the trapeze act, buy the train tickets and rearrange the UK train … Continue reading

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Dead grandmother finances tricky train travel (Rousse)

I’d over-stretched myself with a busy morning of cycling to the Welsh border combined with talking to strangers along the route, and now it was time to head home to Newcastle. It was only when my family gathered at Waverley … Continue reading

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Father Christmas explains quantum mechanics (Rousse)

The first guest speaker was an absolute marvel. Anyone would surely struggle to beat that performance. When GR invited TPR to take to the stage, I really felt for him. He, however, showed no concern. The session began in a … Continue reading

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Improvised jazz George Melly style, and a nightie (Belle)

I hadn’t seen Russell for twenty years, and yet he had booked me to play jazz cornet at a corporate bash. The silver instrument had been delivered and I knew I had less that six hours to carry out the … Continue reading

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Family life: a cure for obesity (Rousse)

AD had shrunk into a neat tweed suit worn under a brown overcoat, with the whole outfit topped off by a forest green felt hat. When we found him on Darlington Road he thanked us for the offer of a … Continue reading

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Three in a bed(room) and an unusual pet (Rousse)

What kind of “romantic” hotel squeezes an extra bed into the room, then lets it to an additional guest? This one, apparently. It wasn’t until after breakfast that we met the small dark woman who had spent the night just … Continue reading

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Secrets of the royal bride-to-be (not Kate Middleton, but Rousse)

My royal wedding was just a couple of weeks away. How extraordinary that I had been chosen to marry a prince of the realm (groom as yet unspecified). My school friend AH (now AR) was green with envy. In spite … Continue reading

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Rousse makes her choice from the Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppets, Ruby Wax, and Clive Anderson

At last a taxi stopped in Bruntsfield and three of us jumped into it to shelter from the pouring rain. LM, however, couldn’t face the mess of discarded chicken bones, cold chips and KFC wrappers on the taxi seats and … Continue reading

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