Thursday, 23 December 2010

Closed all UK equity positions with FTSE at 5992

Wednesday, 22 December 2010


  • Hargreaves Lansdown, both as a service and a shareholding
  • Investment debating with Mr S
  • Sparring with Mr C
  • The Davis Mark III sextant
  • Debating the pros and cons of ocean going simplicity with Mr B
  • The rise of the FTSE
  • And Palladium
  • Learning to unclench
  • Fires
  • cold snap rime on trees
  • The passage from Tenerife to La Gomera
  • Any Human Heart
  • Downton
  • Making Chateau Musar a more regular treat
  • Coaching Big C
  • The prospect of new ventures
  • A new devil may care attitude
  • Saturday morning biking
  • The fixie
  • Laveracks
  • The Princess' delight in learning
  • John Ryan
  • Reacquaintances
  • Roving Commissions
  • The Edinburgh run
  • Wild Man Hotels
  • HRD
  • Another year of blogging
  • Ping and Pong
  • Paris
  • The Difference You Make
  • George reaching eighteen
  • The big Ideation gig

Friday, 17 December 2010


So farewell, trusty dogwiffas.

Her indoors decided they were "relationship threatening" and has peremptorily binned them.

Now I stare defeat in the face, with not even a cosy fleecy boot for comfort.....

Thursday, 16 December 2010


Once, when I had decided I had had enough of a client and had to resign their business, they said "I can't believe you are being so unprofessional."

I responded by saying, "as I have no intention of taking your money there is no requirement on me to be professional."

My aversion to professionalism runs deeper though. Professionalism is a form of self censorship which legitimizes failing to connect on any emotional level with others (and therefore be equipped to see and get the best of them). It acts as an inhibitor to creativity. And it creates a linguistic gap between an organization and its consumer and user base who are very definitely not professional in their views of what you, the organization are doing for and with them.

I used to work with a marvellous creative guy who wanted on his gravestone "unprofessional to the last."

That'll do for me too.

Wednesday, 15 December 2010


I have been told more than once that I have an addiction to cussedness. It is true. An example is boots. I wanted, for some time, some nice fleecy Man-Uggs. They, I thought, would be great for trolling about outside at home. I bought them at the grand cost of £240. They were rubbish. They were never comfortable. They fell apart within one season. This year I wondered if there were suitable alternative brands. I found a pair for £16.99. They are comfortable and warm and so far have not fallen apart. However, the somewhat lower, not to say artificial quality of the fleece means that once wet they stink like an old Labrador. Her indoors says I must get rid of them and has threatened to bin them if I don't do it. My native cussedness kicks in. I refuse, and am busy spraying them daily inside with a cocktail of Sure deodorant and Blue Stratos. The Little Princess calls them my Dogwiffas and we have much laughter in the car playing a game of I spy with my little nose something beginning with......... The answer is always Dogwiffas. I tend to view this kind of unsocial stubbornness as a good thing. But others are turning up their noses!

Tuesday, 14 December 2010

I have been called many things in my time including, it must be admitted, a fucking wanker.

But when I thought about this the other day I thought that it is surely impossible to be at any one time a fucking wanker.

Friday, 10 December 2010


Love everyone?

No exceptions now.....