I have to report that there has been nothing from our Chief Scribe over the festive period. nope

I have a dream. From the south-west comes the familiar sound of Merlins accompanied by glinting reflections from a setting sun. The tiles of the Prince and Polecat vibrate and windows rattle alarmingly as the purveyor of perfect prose and literary excellence sweeps majestically into view, twinned inseparably with his faithful wingman, our glorious founder.

Dux wipes away another tear and pours the last of his Hardy's Chardonnay birthday gift into a fine, 18th century lead crystal wine glass which he absent-mindedly packed when leaving Claridge's hotel, sometime in 1938.


'Find your enemy and shoot him down - everything else is unimportant.'

Manfred von Richtofen
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