mostly david ephgrave

Anyone looking to rekindle the awe, magic and merriness of an early childhood Christmas should visit the Winter Wonderland I saw in a village pub the other day. Until then, I would have suggested Claridge’s or Hamley’s as the perfect festive destination (depending on your budget), but they've since been usurped. I now know you'd be better off heading for Bedfordshire than for the bright lights of Regent Street. Look at that beautiful woodland scene; just a few minutes at that table would lift the mood of the most mean-spirited Grinch. What more could anyone want than a couple of chairs, a pamphlet holder and a hastily thumb-tacked wipe-clean landscape? Who cares that the sign is about to come free from its Sellotape, ready to fall to the ground like that banner in Jurassic Park? Stotfold’s Winter Wonderland has all the mod-cons; it's got two coasters. Two. Speaking of Claridge’s, I did a gig there once, playing keys for a Fi...

I spent the morning of my thirty-fourth birthday (which is today) walking my mum’s dog. It was a nice way to spend it. He’s always pleased to see me and he’s good company. I tend to walk him most Thursdays, but I haven’t been able to for the last few weeks, due to other commitments. I think he still remembered me, though he’d probably give the same enthusiastic reaction to anyone who turned up at the door. He’s not much of a guard dog, that boy. I began the day by running for the bus. This is always a good way to start. By the time I sat down, I was sweating copiously. I was surrounded by teenagers on their way to school; all far more comfortable in their own skin at that moment than me. How can this be the case, when I’m in my mid-thirties? The more I tried to control my perspiration, the worse it got. I looked like a human water feature. I managed to get my secretory glands in control by the time I got off, which was a relief. I didn’t wa...