I've given up trying to rein my accent in, haven't I? But my interactions with Southampton are confined to having bought a sandwich on campus and used a toilet (very similar experiences, from recollection). Glad to have cleared that up (2/2)

Blimey. Even thinking about it now is making me go peculiar and unnecessary.

My recollection of the previous scaling back of duties was that Andrew was only really interested in the bit where he got to be part of the ruling retinue from the big house. I doubt that slipping into a pew at the back as an ordinary parishioner for its own sake holds much appeal for him.

River Afton in Ayrshire, by the same process.

Ah-oooo

I should have been doing something else, too.

An editor I know well once sent me back an article with reviewers' comments. Both reviewers recommended publication -- one grudgingly -- for different and opposite reasons. The journal was going ahead, the editor wrote, the article was in, so now it was just 'good luck squaring these'

They missed a space when they emailed the commission to the graphic designers. They'd intended something like this to advertise Pope Yes.

...aggravating, appropriating things generally spoken to his own person (as melancholy men for the most part do), he trouble or hurt himself, and get in conclusion more harm than good. (2/2)

A story I've told often: I was at a departmental conference, in the bar with a v eminent (& drunk) prof of economic history. I mentioned how chuffed I was at having just been cited for the first time. He leaned in conspiratorially & said with passion 'F**king great, isn't it? And it /never/ changes'