I have developed a love for Dickens, and not just reading Dickens, but listening to Dickens being read. The journey home from work each day is accompanied by the voice of Mil Nicholson reading unabridged versions of Dickens’ work.

There is something in Dickens being read aloud, something in the language, something in the sound of the words. The humour becomes more apparent, the verbal fencing much sharper. The characters become corporeal, their qualities and foibles expressed. Uriah Heep assumes his full odiousness when his words are heard, Lizzie Hexham …

Having ‘don’t be stupid’ as a New Year resolution, reflection on the past brings a realization that there are many moments that should not be repeated,

When I lived in Dublin before, There was a habit that seems stupid in retrospect.

The rectory study  had a wooden Venetian blind. When open at night, bars of light from the streetlights outside would shine in illuminate the room, in an eerie way. Sometimes, at the end of the day, between 11.30 and midnight, I would switch out the light  and sit and …

Christmas was once a time when there were things to eat that might appear only once a year.

Christmas dinner itself was conventional, in parts: potatoes and vegetables were a routine part of the diet, but the Brussels sprouts which seemed an indispensable part of the Christmas menu made an annual appearance. There was no reason why turkey might not have been eaten at any time of the year; perhaps its size meant that it would only be contemplated on an annual basis.

Christmas pudding: even its name reflected the …