A Feast for the Frost

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A Siberian chill has gripped the nation. Its chill and dread fingers have held us in a vice as tight as any revolutionary fever gripped St Petersburg. I have channelled my inner Yuri Zhivago. Sadly, I do not have an ice bound dacha in which to delight, instead in West London my stomach has roved … Continued

My First Time Being A Pallbearer

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‘And the captain said to the mate, “Dan, tell us a story!” And the story went as follows…’ Following the last instalment, we’re sticking with the mundane (this time, in its earth-to-earth, dustiest sense). Here’s my first experience of being a pallbearer. My Grandad was one of those eternally old men, grey and grizzly with … Continued