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A life well lived

10 May
This is the mark of a life well lived,
No matter how short or long:
The ripples grow wider the longer you’re gone
And your friends still miss you ten years on.

Thoxford

28 Jul

Well, with all this crazy busy running about trying to pack and find a house, job, say bye to everyone and do too many other things, I’ve not really had time to reflect upon leaving my eccentric home of nine years. But I jotted down a thought on a train the other day. It’ll have to do for now. Thanks, Oxford…

Oxford:
City of dreaming bohemians
scatty professors
Chavs, nerds and geeks.
Home of mine.

Thank you for accepting
nourishing
encouraging
and inspiring me.

For allowing me to wear
whatever the hell I like;
to attract zero comments
for carrying a scarecrow
reciting poetry
or enthusiastically
arguing
about
grammar.

Where it’s cool
to love Scrabble
or to speak in
iambic pentameter.

Oxford.

Thank you
for the nuns,
dons,
unicyclists
and morris men
who have sat next to me,
drinking coffee.

There’s nowhere like you –
and nowhere
that would have brought me up
like you.

Because

29 Dec

There’s a “six” that I wrote up at 6S today. (Strictly fictional.)

And today my mother became a pensioner. This is sort of weird.