the alan wright blog

Saturday morning breakfast.

Got the percolator out this morning and the milk frother. Dash of Irish Whiskey and a cherry tart and bingo!

There isn’t a single leaf on this tree.

Macaroni cheese for tea.

When Thatcher was on her last legs a mate of mine and myself decided to get a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label and open it on the day she popped her clogs.

We did exactly that and, although the day itself is a bit of a blur, I do remember enjoying it. I seem to recall Sheila helping me to bed.

I’m tempted to get another bottle for when Trump kicks the bucket or - whatever.

Point Nemo.

The most isolated and remote point on earth. It’s not a place but a calculated point in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Latest listening.

Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells.

I bought it within a week of its release, on vinyl.

I pretty soon got a copy on audio cassette, for convenience and being able to listen to music on the go.

Before long things had moved on and I got it on compact disc.

Guess what? I also owned it on DVD and now I consume my music exclusively on MP3’s.

And that’s just one album! I’ve owned dozens and dozens in my time.

Can’t image what’s next - but in a desperate attempt to part me from my money there’s now a resurgence in vinyl and I even saw recently that they relaunched cassettes!

MP3’s will do for me - or YouTube.

Here’s the new mug in action.