Quotes

. . . . thoughts on manned exploration of space . . . .


‘if we die, we want people to accept it. We are in a risky business, and we hope that if anything happens to us, it will not delay the program. The conquest of space is worth the risk of life.’

— Astronaut Gus Grissom, 1965

Prescription for Madness . . .


. . . . . so my doctors General Practice has decided to update the way you make your appointments and order your repeat prescriptions, by subscribing to this new online National Health Service IT system. Great I thought, now I don’t have to sit – Prayer-Mantis style – crouched over the phone waiting for the second-hand on the clock to sweep past 8:30am and then phone the surgery; constantly hitting the re-dial button to get past the engaged tone, every time I want an appointment. Why is it that I feel like a Formula One driver sitting in my car on the starting grid? Twenty others and I, revving the engines and waiting to lift our foot off the brakes immediately the lights turn red . . .

Continue reading Prescription for Madness . . .

. . . . sunny and warm in this beautiful old city . . .


 . . . . . thank-you Global Warming – just once in a while, it’s nice to see that even you sometimes need an afternoon off. The old Cathedral is awash with Spring sunshine and it is displaying its best face for all the visitors and pilgrims, who have made the effort to come and see her. As for me, I am sitting in Costa-Cofee, watching the world drift past the windows with an americano . . . . .

Canterbury Cathedral - bathed in sunshine on a Spring afternoon.
Canterbury Cathedral – bathed in sunshine on a Spring afternoon.

. . . . it’s cold, grey and miserable out there . . .


. . . . it’s cold, grey and miserable out there. January is just like a long hangover after the party. So, sod it! I am sitting in Costa-Coffee listening to my favourite Barrister Toni entertaining the good folk of Canterbury like he always does, whilst I sip a mediums white Americano. His banter and wit is like a solitary ray of sunshine piercing the endless expanse of grey outside of this window . . . . .