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PC 47 Loo Paper

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It was Mark Twain who observed that travel broadens the mind; you don’t have to go far, however, even the local streets are full of rich pickings, if you care to look! I thought my own mind fairly broad, but it’s been stretched further by our recent North America travels, experiencing other places and other cultures. So when I encountered the thinnest, no, I really mean thinnest, loo paper in my life in Seattle, I thought this could be the subject of another PC ….. although it might need a little delicate handling ….. know what I mean? And if you had a rather prudish upbringing, maybe it’s best not to read any further!!

When I refer to ‘loo’ paper I encompass all the various descriptions of the genre; ‘toilet’ paper, ‘lavatory’ paper (very old fashioned maybe) …. and now the word ‘tissue’ is common-place. In France they refer to loo paper as PQ (a contraction of ‘papier cul’- ‘cul’ meaning ‘bum’ or ‘arse’); in German it’s ‘klopapier’ and in Portuguese ‘papel higiênico’. A couple of hundred years ago you might only have had the option of using some torn grass or old newspaper, but now the options are endless. The manufacturers of the ubiquitous ‘Wipes’, available for every cleaning job, have even developed the ‘toilet wipe’, which is ‘flushable’. Oh! Joy!

Back in the days of a less sensitive nation, in Britain there was ‘Jeyes Toilet Tissue’. Jeyes is now synonymous with cleaning products that get around the U-Bend but back then …. here was a cardboard pack of folded sheets of hard paper. The paper was a light brown in colour. It was neither absorbent nor comfortable; fortunately we have moved on. All loo paper used to be white, then coloured bathroom suites came into vogue and the manufacturers made a fortune in making loo paper that matched the various colours on offer – Avocardo, Peach etc. And we all know Andrex’s playful little puppy …… to advertise loo paper! I’m sorry, I simply do not see the connection here; what is the association between a sweet, soft, cuddly, youngster, having fun …. and wiping your bum?

If you worked for Her Majesty, as I did during my time in the British Army, we had ‘Government Issue’ loo paper; like the Jeyes stuff, but on every sheet it said ‘Government Issue’! If you were not a fan of a particular Government, the joke was obvious! And the ration that came in the ‘field pack’ had three small sheets per day; the common thought was ‘one up, one down, one polish’!

In Waitrose, an upmarket British supermarket, you can buy ‘Bathroom Tissue’ scented/coated in Aloe Vera, Jojoba or Cashmere. Do you sniff it before you use it, or do you really appreciate the difference in texture ……. by touching it? The mind boggles! In Yukon Territories, Canada, in a small place called Carmacks, a tourist emporium had a stack of loo paper wrapped as ‘Up North Toilet Paper’!?

The large, round container with a commercial-sized roll means less checking for cleaning staff , but have you ever found that the ‘free’ end is somewhere inside, almost stuck to the whole roll, and getting the free end usable takes forever? The ‘Seattle’ loo paper I think was designed for two (or more?) uses. The first is obvious, but the second? Well, it could easily have been used for tracing paper, it was so thin. And actually very difficult to take off the roll if the end was not obvious; a little like cling film/kitchen wrap when the effing end is completely invisible/undiscoverable!

One of the loos I use regularly (no pun intended!) is in our Bikram Studio complex. The overhead light is motion-activated (I’m sorry, this is just the way it comes to mind) which is fine unless you sit for longer than the timer allows – and the light goes off ….. and stays off until your flailing arms get noticed. In the Riverside Cottages we stayed in in Fairbanks, Alaska, they went one better, or worse! The shower/loo room had a timer for both light and extractor fan, and was customer-operated before you went in and locked the door. Well, here’s a conundrum. How long do you set it for before you enter? Get it wrong and you might end up in the dark, with your knickers around your ankles and …….

Bikram Yoga is practised in a studio where at least two walls have floor to ceiling mirrors. That’s fine, as part of the practice is to observed one’s half-hearted attempts to get into a certain posture; ‘must do better’, the voice in my head is often shouting! But in Brazil I encountered a mirrored wall …. in the loo! Aaaggghhhhh! The first time I used it, I was only wearing my Bikram shorts, ready for the session that would started shortly. After a minute or so sitting down, I suddenly looked to the right and ……. saw ……. well, Rodin’s Thinker is good to contemplate …… this sight was not! It sure hurried up my visit.

Recently I went into a loo, a rather narrow little room, sat down, did what I wanted to do, and then looked for the loo paper. After about 30 seconds, I located the roll, behind my shoulder. I almost dislocated said shoulder in trying to release a few sheets of paper; should I put my arm under my shoulder or above? Eventually the only way was to physically swivel on the loo seat through about 160°.

I don’t think we British have really got into using a Bidet, but I can understand its raison d’être! In an imagined nightmare scenario, you use the bidet ….. and look for a towel. There isn’t one! OK! There are probably some paper towels somewhere ….. but then you realise that in the C21st paper towels have been replaced by a Dyson Hot Air drier, fixed up on the wall. Success in the subsequent physical gymnastics required might guarantee you a place in the 2016 Olympics!!

Very mundane musings for a summer afternoon!

Richard 14 August 2015                                          richardyates24@gmail.com

PC 506 Be the Person you want to be

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These scribbles are aimed at those who are not doing what they really, really want to do ….. yet!

Do you have the opportunity, the luxury, the personal understanding to be the person you want to be? Do you even know how to describe what that person might feel like, might act like? It may not be easy, being the person you want to be …… as personal needs and practical issues often get in the way! But if you aspire to something, to do something, to be someone and can remain focused ….. you’ll get there. Remember, we only get one life.

One life ….. one full rainbow; yesterday morning, before the heavens opened!

Many years ago, someone recommended to Patrick that he spend some hard-earned cash and have a session with me, as he was unsure what he should do after serving in the Army for ten years, and that I might be able to help him with that exercise. I think I became quite good at helping individuals unlock their inner thoughts and validating their ideas and dreams. For some it’s difficult but maybe easier doing so with a stranger than a work colleague or relative.

Patrick reminded me that we are often initially guided by our well-meaning parents, but their advice can be skewed by their own experiences, the trends and opinions of the society when they were growing up; they were them and not you. Patrick had gone into the Army at his father’s insistence. Now he was free to choose, although his chums swamped him with standard ideas that didn’t appeal. After a couple of hours, I remember very distinctly him leaning forward and, in a very quiet voice, said: ‘Do you know what I really want to do?’ ‘No! Tell me!’ Ten minutes later he asked what I thought. “Why don’t you give it a try?” And off he went, having had ‘permission’?

Ring any bells? Are you doing what you want to do?

It seemed appropriate that on the August weekend that the City of Brighton & Hove celebrated ‘Pride’, there was an article in the Saturday Times’ magazine about the crisis in men’s health, featuring an interview with psychologist Dr Peter Meades. For those who don’t live here, the Pride Festival attracts ‘a diverse demographic audience from across the globe and is singularly the city’s most popular visitor attraction. Pride is as famous, vibrant, popular and utterly unique as the city itself. (My italics) Its sole ethos is to promote diversity, inclusion and education within our communities.’

I have broken down a couple of paragraphs from the Times interview with Meades that encapsulate this issue, being the person you want to be, accepting the individual you are. Meades has worked with men for some 25 years, and recently written a book ‘for the silent majority, who need help but don’t know how to ask for it.’,

“I was born in Caerphilly (Wales) and grew up gay in a mining village in the 1980s.” The traditional way of life and beliefs in the Welsh valleys would have made it extremely difficult to be accepted, to be who he was.

“My family were born-again, fundamentalist, evangelical Christians. My three older brothers played rugby. It was challenging.” Homosexuality was a crime and for those with Christian beliefs, a sin that condemned one to hell and damnation. More charitable souls suggested it was a mental affliction, perhaps a disease.

Understanding who you are is the very first step to being the person you want to be. My very first question to a new client when I started my executive coaching session was, for some, extremely difficult: ‘Tell Me About Yourself’. Peter Meades recommends keeping a diary, as this simple exercise often gets ideas out into the open. If you have never written for pleasure, why don’t you open a blank Word document, or an inexpensive real-paper notebook, and write: ‘I remember ……’ and let the thoughts flow without interrupting. As soon as you stop to think about what to write next, write: ‘I remember …..’ and off you go again. Write at your own pace, even for an audience of one! It’s a great way to really understand yourself and maybe it will open up ideas for your life. Many years ago, I thought I should start writing my novel; to get some time to do it, I got up at 0530, an hour earlier than usual.

There’s this very appropriate anonymous quotation: “Five percent of the people think; ten percent of the people think they think; and the other eighty-five percent would rather die than think.” So start thinking?

One of our yoga chums is adding singing to his portfolio of skills, just because he wants to. You may remember the delightful story of the actor Michael Crawford who decided he wanted to learn to sing. Many a Saturday morning would find Michael practising at his singing teacher’s flat. One week the teacher’s doorbell rang. Instructing Michael to carry on with his scales, he went to answer it; it was Andrew Lloyd-Webber. “Who’s that upstairs, Mark?” “Michael Crawford; he’s got a good voice.” “I think I have found my Phantom!” (The lead role in his new musical Phantom of the Opera)

Yoga’s physical and mental discipline attracts many gay men; they tend to be more in tune with their inner selves and their emotions than heterosexual men. Our studio is no exception and naturally we now have many good, gay friends

I titled this postcard ‘Be the Person you want to be’ ……. because I think fundamentally this can be quite difficult. We are social animals; we want to fit in, not brave it out, not branch out, be the odd one out. But understanding ourselves better, our extraversion or introversion, the degree we engage/need to engage with others, with our families and with friends, or preferring our own company, where and when we feel 100% engaged with what we are doing ….. and accepting that that’s who we are, should enable you to be the person you want to be.

Richard 28th August 2026

Estoril, Portugal

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS If you still haven’t found your ‘element’, read Ken Robinson’s book of the same name, with its subtitle: ‘How finding your passion changes everything’.

PC 504 Houses – Buying and Selling

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Last Wednesday I found myself, mid-afternoon, in The Hope Café, taking time-out to recall and reflect. You may remember that postcard ‘Wait ….’ (PC 465 November 2025), but you’d be wrong to think I was waiting for something ……. just ‘being’.

Towards the end of last year, it must have been November, an ex-Army chum Jim informed me he was moving from his house in Suffolk to somewhere near Cambridge to be closer to grandchildren. He moved in June this year – over six months between agreeing to buy the house and moving in. The wise say that this experience is one of the most stressful transactions we do and in the course of our lifetime we may do it many times. Mention moving house and immediately memories of your own experiences will flood your brain!

Hurst Cottage in Fleet; my first house – much extended!

Just as I was finding out from Google that Stamp Duty, payable to HMG in England when you buy a house, is 5% if its value is between £250k and £925k, I see Sami walk in with Lisa, so I put my thoughts on hold.

“Hey! You two! Haven’t seen you together for weeks. You been away?”

“Had a very lovely week in Salcombe at the end of July. I remember you writing about being there when it was wet and cool; this year it was glorious. So lucky! Enjoyed your postcards about Brighton’s Lanes and North Laines (PC 503 August 2026) – you should get a job working for the tourist section of the council.”

“God forbid! I’m thinking about writing a postcard about buying and selling a house.”

“Well, how long have you got Richard …?”

I interrupt. “Actually, my first experience, buying Hurst Cottage on Victoria Road in Fleet, Hampshire for £29,500 in 1978, was fine.

49a, Cavendish Road, Clapham

My ‘lower ground’ flat on Clapham Common South Side went ahead without memorable angst but the next, a Victorian terraced house on the southern end of Battersea, taught me something.”

“What was that?”

“It’s a personable business and we response accordingly. I had written to the owner, to say how much we were looking forward to completing the purchase, recognised that she had made it a charming property and knowing we would be happy there. About three weeks before we thought we would complete, the estate agent said someone was offering another £10,000 and they had an obligation to forward it to the owner. Eeek! We learned later that she didn’t entertain this new offer as our letter had touched her and she wanted us to have it. So, we were not ‘gazumped’ (note 1)”

A sketch for a Christmas card, prior to a loft conversion! A terraced house is a terraced house; 54 Bramfield Road.

Just as Lisa is about to comment, maybe offer some of her own insights, a stranger comes over:

“Sorry to interrupt” she said, “but couldn’t help but hear you talking about house purchases and thought you might like to know that my husband was a reverse-gazumper. Do you want to hear the story?” and she said it in that way, suggesting we were going to hear it, like it or not!

“I am Sally, by the way. We were getting divorced, thank God, and he was really reluctant to find somewhere for himself to live, so I left and rented to encourage him; not sure it did. But we had a buyer, at our asking price. He explained he hadn’t found somewhere and they should be patient. The weeks rolled into months ….” I could tell this was a painful period for her, recalling how her life was really on hold until he found somewhere. “Then he realised property prices had risen over the period, and asked the prospective buyers, with whom we had already exchanged, ie agree the price, for another 10%!”

“Could he do that?”

“The option for the others was to pull out and after all this time they decided they had no option. I was absolutely disgusted. I complained to the estate agent that I hadn’t agreed this but the estate agent said they didn’t need the agreement of both parties and that they had to forward the instruction.”

“Wow! Sally! That’s really greedy. So sorry for you ….. but thanks for telling us. You a local?”

“No. I live up in Essex …. and must go; love The Hope Café!” and she got up and left.

Sami: “This is England right. This would be very rare in Scotland, where the agreement to buy becomes legally binding much earlier in the process through formal letters between solicitors called ‘concluded missives’. Additionally, sellers must legally provide a single survey and energy report, so that prospective buyers can’t argue that their survey found ‘x’ and ‘y’ and therefore would ask for a reduction in their offer.”

“I had that problem as the executor of my maiden aunt’s estate, selling her house on the north side of Clapham Common. Someone had come along, very quickly offered the asking price, and just when the sale was due to be completed, claimed his survey had highlighted major problems and wanted a huge reduction, some 20% if I remember correctly, imagining he had me by the ‘short and curlies’ and I would agree. I found out this individual had a reputation for doing this …… so didn’t agree and put the house back on the market. But this was a probate sale so I was slightly personally detached!

Statistically, once an offer is accepted it takes an average of four months to complete; Jim’s took six. One in three house sales fall through before exchange. The Ministry for Housing, Communities and Local Government has said: ‘We’re stopping gazundering by introducing legally binding agreements that prevent buyers from walking away at the last minute without a valid reason, with fines for those who do.’ But not until 2029!

Our Hove apartment is in this magnificent 1890s building

I could tell that Lisa wanted to add some of her own experiences, but I had to dash, as I had to fashion a pinhole viewing device for the evening’s solar eclipse!”

Richard 14th August 2026

Hove

www.postcardscribles.co.uk

PS The only other house I owned was in the village of Rowledge, for 15 months.

Note 1 A gazumper is a person who steps in with a higher offer on a property after the seller has already accepted an offer from someone else, but before the contracts are legally signed.

PC 501 Living and loving more, or victim?

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In PC 485 ‘Live more? Live less?’ I hoped I got across the idea that we should be striving to do more than just existing. The more I thought about it, the more I recognised that there is a dreadful condition, that of ‘being a victim’; this might stop someone from fulfilling their capabilities and expectations, living more, loving more.

Without doubt, in our lives we will all experience some form of hardship, disappointment, loss, often due to external circumstances or the actions of others. While the initial event may not be your fault, you may feel the victim, and start complaining, shifting accountability to others. Don’t let this ‘victim mentality’ linger. Understanding the psychology behind this mindset is the first step toward regaining control. It often develops as an unconscious defence mechanism, to protect oneself after experiencing adversity.

Various ideas to get out of this mentality include acknowledging the areas of your life where you do have control and focusing on problem-solving rather than complaining. Whatever happened in the past, is in the past. Uncoupling those events from your current sense of unhappiness and self-worth can allow you to live and love more, today!

On the Sunday before we flew to South America in mid-April, I was walking to Rahmi’s 7-11, to exchange my Sunday Times coupon for an actual paper, and passed Hixon Green, a ‘café with food’, on Church Road. Sitting at one of the outside tables, enjoying the weak Spring sunshine, was a chap who’d recently bought one of the twelve apartments in Amber House. Tom waved and I went to say ‘hello’; he introduced me to his friend Ricky, who was enjoying a glass of Coke. Tom started telling Ricky I practised hot yoga a lot – ‘Six days a week, Tom’, I interjected – and Ricky said: ‘I should start doing something like that, shouldn’t I?’ (Was this a question to me or to himself?)

“Absolutely” I said. “Let me know and you can come as my guest for your first session. How old are you?”

“Forty-three. But listen, I really don’t have time for that.”

Always difficult, to allocate one’s time to all those things you think important, be it work, one’s family, staying in touch with friends, indulging in a passion like singing, playing golf, or going to the gym for example. Many years ago, a CEO client said he didn’t have time to learn a language he wanted to be proficient at. He then admitted he didn’t get up until 0730! I suggested he could fit in an hour of study if he got up earlier; he later called that precious extra time ‘Yates’s Hour’.

I am a lark, preferring to be, as Private Godfrey from Dad’s Army often exclaimed, ‘Up and at ‘em’, early, although he was suggesting tackling the enemy head-on! Maybe the analogy works for taking on the day’s challenges?

“There is a time in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.  Omitted, all the voyage of one’s life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea am I now afloat, and I must take the current when it serves or lose my venture”. Brutus in Shakespeare’s ‘Julius Caesar’ obviously believed in living and loving more.

At around the same time as I learned that the nephew of our masseuse had died aged 39 from a heart attack, I read that here in the United Kingdom the span of our lives when we might expect to be healthy has declined over ten years to just 60 years. The headline is disturbing, but how the Health Foundation came to the conclusion suggests we should take the result with … a pinch of salt? Firstly, their population sample went from 170,000 households to 80,000 and covered a three-year period (2022-2024) so, as well as being smaller, may well have been affected by the tail-end of the pandemic. Secondly, there was a marked deterioration among young adults, from 91% to 84% reporting good health, the recent focus on ‘mental health’ being a major factor, whereas older women reported being much healthier.

As Mark Twain wrote in his autobiography, mistakenly attributing it to Benjamin Disraeli’: ‘There are three kinds of lies; lies, damned lies and statistics’!! More likely we’ll have some 68 years of healthy life, and not something forecast by a small tick box survey.

I have mentioned the victim mentality as I have personal knowledge of one such person. Through the generosity of others, they’ve been looked after, fed, watered and housed, whilst making no discernible effort to get off their butt and start taking responsibility for themselves. Love can be complicated, but sometimes a dose of ‘tough love’ is needed.

My fellow yogi Ian calls a spade a spade and not a shovel: “We all need to dare to …. but we accept we get knocked back …. and then you need to pick yourself up, and start again! The accusation this is ‘bad for my mental health’ is bollocks; it’s exactly the opposite.”

Shakespeare, the great observer, wrote these opening lines for Macbeth:

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”

The co-owner of our hot yoga studio teaches a lot and adds her own take on life to the traditional dialogue. The other day she said the practice of hot yoga ‘prepares one for one’s future’. My own thoughts are that you need to live, truly live, now and not wait for ‘your future’ to arrive. And that at my age I truly believe my ‘future’ has arrived, like NOW. Make sure your life is full of love and fun and don’t ever be a victim; well, not for too long!

Richard 24th July 2026

Hove

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PC 495 Hope Café Catch Up

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It’s been a while since I was able to get to the Hope Café, to enjoy a relaxing coffee and catch up with whoever’s there. Tuesday was a busy day; after our obligatory 90 minutes of hot yoga, an hour of a new sequence called ‘Shape Shifting’ (Note 1) and lunch, we both went to the Hove Skin Clinic for our annual Mole Mapping. Having had a ‘malignant Melanoma In-situ’ removed in November 2023 and a ‘Basal Cell Carcinoma’ taken off last year, I can’t be too careful, so have an annual check-up. On Wednesday I had lunch with my best friend Stewart in Bill’s in Reigate.

On Thursday I found both Sami and Mo, sitting at different tables but to all intense and purposes alone; we got together at a table near the Brazilian deli counter. You may remember Mo’s mother died earlier in the year and I was pleased she was back to her chatty, urbane self.

“I was thinking of you the other day Richard, as I waited to pay for some fruit from Dean’s. I think you wrote about him in one of your postcards. Hang on ……”

Dean’s fruit and vegetable stall on the north end of George Street

…. and Mo dives into her iPhone and somehow pulls up my postcards from 2017!! (PC 103)

“Here it is. You wrote how …….

“…… having picked up four egg cartons from the side of Dean’s stall, I come around to the front. It’s become such a regular occurrence that it goes something like:

Dean: “Hello! How are you? Just your usual? ….. How many have we got?  …. Remind me, it’s the £1.09s, isn’t it?….. So that’ll be £4.36 ….

(another regular appears)

Good morning, Doris! How are you?……. Sorry! Be with you in a minute.

……. So, is that everything? These strawberries are the first of the season. No! We had the Spanish ones but these are from the Netherlands.”

“Smell good an’ all” says Jim standing beside the stall from where he’s been talking to Dean about the football when there aren’t any customers ….

“I don’t want to smell ‘em, Jim, I want to know how they taste.”

Dean: “Sorry Doris, two secs! ….” turning to me … .“So, two dozen eggs and a punnet of strawberries; £7.35 call it £7. Thanks for that …. three pounds change then ….. See you next week ……

“Now, Doris what did you want? Yes, the beetroot are cooked, real sweet, I can tell, had some for my tea yesterday.”

“Not sure how you managed to find that, Mo, but let me give you another little vignette into life on Dean’s stall.”

“Go on ..”

“On Monday I went there to buy a Fennel, such a versatile vegetable ….. and there was a large cardboard box of cherries on the trestle table. A woman is waiting to be served.

“How much are the cherries, Dean?” she asks.

“£15 a kilo …..

The woman’s face says it all; she can’t get her head around £15 a kilo, all she wants is a handful and now she’s not sure whether they are expensive or not.

“I don’t want a kilo, Dean. How much is a handful?”

“Oh! OK!” and reaching for a paper bag, picks up a handful, tips them into the bag, puts the bag on the scales and says “£3.25”

She pays …. and walks off.

As Dean’s weighing my Fennel, I say: “Why didn’t you say to the woman ‘They’re about £3 a handful’….. and not confuse her with how much you paid?”

“Because they’re £15 a kilo ……”

I was about to say something and thought, you know what, best left alone!! Life huh! Gorgeous!”

Both Mo and Sami are laughing. “That’s funny, isn’t it. Anything else?” asks Mo.

“Well, there was a lovely letter in The Times the other day from a Susie Marwood. She wrote about going to buy a pair of shoe trees in a huge, local, home improvements superstore. “Unable to find any, I asked the young assistant who, momentarily discombobulated, then led me into the garden and patios section and gestured proudly towards a large selection of shrubs and saplings.”

Love the word ‘discombobulated’ – so expressive! Actually, many people simply wear some form of trainers and don’t need shoe trees.” 

“Ah! Not true” exclaims Sami. “I have some very expensive trainers and always put a pair of shoe trees in them.”

“I live and learn! Sami, you and Lisa went to Dubai, no, Sicily last month, didn’t you?”

“Yup! Lisa and I had a wonderful time, not too hot, not too crowded, as it was before the summer holidays. We flew to Palermo, picked up a hire car and drove to Marsala. Three days later we drove to Agrigento for a couple of nights, as we wanted to visit the Valley of the Temples.”

“These are …..?”

“An UNESCO World Heritage site featuring some of the best-preserved Greek ruins outside of Greece. Really enjoyed strolling around these ancient stones and, staying locally, one could see them illuminated at night. Stunning! The local beaches were disgusting, covered in litter and detritus, but we didn’t go there to sit on the beach!!”

“You may remember my postcard about our time in Sicily – “The Largest Mediterranean Island (PC 134 October 2018)”. We were just south of Syracuse.”  

“God, that was ages ago, but I do remember little snippets – something about the difficulties of trying to return your Avis hire car to the depot at Catania airport. Do you realise that was before Covid?”

“There was life before Covid! But listen you two, back in 2020 I recounted a dream I had had about a UK shortage of Smarties (PC 178 April 2020), drawing heavily from my experience of working in the MOD Procurement Executive 1980 – 1982 and its committees! I noted that a tube of 32 Smarties in 2020 cost 60 pence. I rather gave up chocolate, especially my favourite Cadbury’s Whole Nut, last year after my severe food poisoning on a flight with TAP from Rio de Janeiro to Lisbon. Time is always the healer and now I buy the occasional tube of Smarties from Rahmi Gurgur’s convenience store on Hove Street. In six years, the cost has gone up 50% and I only counted 31; 2.9 pence per smartie!  

(To be continued)

Richard 12th June 2026

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Three foxes enjoyed playing in Amber House’s garden early on Sunday Morning.

Note 1 In theory ‘Shape Shifting’ is ‘the ability to physically transform one’s body usually through magic, inherent power, or divine intervention. In practice Mary Jarvis chose a series of Hatha Yoga postures specifically to move one’s own yoga practice to another level.