Your questions answered

 I have found it easiest to collect all the questions received from readers and answer them in one post:

1. I did know that the story about George Brown isn't actually true. Surprisingly enough, many things on this blog should be taken with a pinch of salt. Indeed, even when it comes to wargaming the only facts contained herein which you can truly rely on are that Peter will roll lots of ones, that James will change the rules half way through, and that no one will ever be able to agree on the definition of a flank attack.
2. I did not know that carved mice by Mousey 'Bloody' Mouseman could be found absolutely everywhere. I am now considering writing the definitive guide to places that they aren't; which obviously won't include Peter's house.
3. 'love is more thicker than forget' is not a grammatical error; it is a quote from e.e. cummings
4. Ælfric's warning came in his introduction to the homiletic writings of Archbishop Wulfstan.
5. Alan Bennett is still alive. (I know, me too.)
6. K.T. Tunstall was born on June 23rd, 1975. (I know, me too.)
7.  Потому что я претенциозный пизда
8. a) Mind your own business, but see Robert Crumb's cartoon as a reference point. b) A courgette, a marrow, runner beans and some rosemary..Oh, and some Italian espresso coffee beans, but no octopus.
9. Belgium, again. Or, to be more precise, again not.
10. Job Chapter 19 Verse 23 

Ælfric warned us about this

I continue to receive carved mouse sightings; this time from a special correspondent south of the M62 - but not, she has asked me to clarify, in Cleckheaton - who tells me that Wakefield Cathedral is also replete with the buggers. Yorkshire is infested with Mousey Thompson mice.

I would offer a wargaming update, but it has been suspended again. I was intending to do some painting yesterday, but decided to go to the pub to see the excellent Dr Bob and the Bluesmakers instead. The chariot and Roman auxiliaries remain stuck at the undercoat stage. I am heading out shortly for some boardgaming which is occupying more of my time these days - possibly because it occurs at scheduled times rather than relying on any diligence or focus from me.

I haven't bored/educated anyone with some obscure 70s music for a while, so here are the Flamin' Groovies for your delectation and delight:

Of More Mice And About The Same Number Of Men

I have been taken to task by my elder daughter; a not terribly unusual event to be sure. On this occasion it is regarding mice, specifically those of Mousey Thompson. Having described how I had gone far out into the Dales and seen them for the first time, she pointed out to me that the church of St John the Divine in Menston also has them. Considering that church is about 100 metres from the family home (until 'we were pulled apart because her mom did not agree') she asks, with the know-it-all attitude so common in the young, whether it wouldn't have simply been easier to walk round the corner at some point in the last twenty years. Possibly.

The latest exhibition at the Henry Moore Institute is by the late Paul Neague and I have been along to view it and mock. Like all shows at the HMI - and modern art in general - it left me baffled. Having said that, I found the the largest sculpture on display, Nine Catalytic Stations, to be rather peaceful. I have no idea whether that's what the artist was going for, but that's how it struck me.

You talk like Marlene Dietrich

I have also been to Leeds Civic Hall to see Agatha Christie's courtroom drama 'Witness for the Prosecution' performed in the round in the council chamber. The building was more fascinating than the play (it was obvious who'd done it from the off, the twists were unexpected because they were ludicrous and the actress playing Romaine was too young) and it was the first time that I had seen the ground floor. Opened by George V in the 1930s, it is very different to the 'epitome of Northern bombast' Leeds Town Hall which is eighty or so years older. Also interesting is the display of civic gifts received by Lord Mayors down the years. My eye was caught by that from the mayor of Ulan Bator, a rather fine statuette of a mongol warrior; I bet no one would have predicted the receipt and display of that object when the building was first conceived.





                                       

Of Mice and Men

I have been walking again, this time in Langstrothdale, where the Wharfe rises.

Mention must be made of the church of St Michael and All Angels at Hubberholme, pretty much at the point where Langstrothdale meets Wharfedale. Whilst the building is 12th century the pews were made by Robert 'Mouseman' Thompson and bear his distinctive motif. I'm afraid the photo is culled from the interweb rather than being taken by me. You all by now know the story of my camera and the Young Farmers Ladies Tug-of-War contest, so I won't repeat it (although I may just take a break for a moment's quiet personal reflection). Anyway, I think was the first time I'd seen such mice in the flesh as it were and they were fascinating.

The other noteworthy fact about the church fits into my recent theme of heavyweights of the past. It is the resting place of the ashes of John Boynton Priestley. One can't say that he is forgotten - in the past few years years I've seen productions of both 'An Inspector Calls' and 'When We Are Married'  and one of my daughters studied the former for her GCSE - although his novels don't seem to be read much any more. That's a shame, because 'The Good Companions' is a lovely, charming book and the plot of 'Angel Pavement' depends on a very accurately described accounting twist; possibly a minority interest that last point.

But as well as his literary output, and not overlooking the serious injury he received during the Great War, he held a place as a sort of public intellectual, making morale boosting broadcasts during the second war (credited by many with setting the scene for the post-war introduction of the welfare state) and campaigning against nuclear weapons. During my period as an undergraduate in the 1970s he was regarded as the greatest living Bradfordian in the same way that Alan Bennett might currently be regarded as the greatest living Leodensian. I can however proudly state that, while a student, I never once set foot in the J.B. Priestley library on campus.