Author Archive
Graham Dukes is a founder member of the Academy of Unlikely Bedfellows It really began a long time ago – I was a college student when it happened, sitting around with a group of colleagues, when (with blood glucose levels falling as the evening wore on) the conversation not unnaturally turned to food. What sort…
Graham Dukes calls for the abolition of February and March I have been thinking. I don’t do it very often, because it tends to give me a headache; however, I have some hope that one day it may earn me a medal. This particular train of thought started up a while ago when I found…
Yesterday morning, just after eleven, I suddenly realized that I now been sinning for at least seventy years. I had already emptied the contents of my supermarket trolley into a shopping bag, but I continued to stand there, observing with more than a little fascination the purchases made by the amply proportioned lady fumbling in…
Graham Dukes makes the case for the fluttermouse. Whatever one’s world view, one can hardly avoid having a sneaking respect for creation. The old seven-volume Taxonomy of the Animal World, that has graced our bookcase for years, is reason enough for that. I shall never digest more than a tiny fraction of it, but I…
It hasn’t happened to me very often during the last eighty years or so, but the last few weeks I have been completely at a loss for an English word. I’m fairly sure that it must exist, and I know that I shall need it, but where is it? I have done everything that might…
It was a rain shower, sixty eight years ago, that started it off. My good father, who could never quite resist the lure of a jumble shop on any occasion, was on his way home without an umbrella when he felt the first drops. Mr Gittins’ tumbledown store, which offered unsellable leftovers from all around,…
I should, of course, have known better than to go back there at all. But I am not particularly prone to nostalgia; I appreciated that the place where I once grew up was, even in those days, in need of change, and I was curious. So it was that I did go back, just a…
It was the spring of 1944; one could discern the season as one glimpsed the young leaves hesitantly peeping out from the trees that lined the tramway along the Bristol Road. Beyond that, Birmingham remained its proud but grimy old self, much as Victorian industry had left it, licking its wounds now from the Blitz…
About the author
Graham Dukes is a lawyer, physician, author and church organist. He lives in Oslo with his wife and co-contributor Elizabet Helsing.
Graham Dukes is a founder member of the Academy of Unlikely Bedfellows It really began a long time ago – I was a college student when it happened, sitting around with a group of colleagues, when (with blood glucose levels falling as the evening wore on) the conversation not unnaturally turned to food. What sort…
Graham Dukes calls for the abolition of February and March I have been thinking. I don’t do it very often, because it tends to give me a headache; however, I have some hope that one day it may earn me a medal. This particular train of thought started up a while ago when I found…
Yesterday morning, just after eleven, I suddenly realized that I now been sinning for at least seventy years. I had already emptied the contents of my supermarket trolley into a shopping bag, but I continued to stand there, observing with more than a little fascination the purchases made by the amply proportioned lady fumbling in…
Graham Dukes makes the case for the fluttermouse. Whatever one’s world view, one can hardly avoid having a sneaking respect for creation. The old seven-volume Taxonomy of the Animal World, that has graced our bookcase for years, is reason enough for that. I shall never digest more than a tiny fraction of it, but I…
It hasn’t happened to me very often during the last eighty years or so, but the last few weeks I have been completely at a loss for an English word. I’m fairly sure that it must exist, and I know that I shall need it, but where is it? I have done everything that might…
It was a rain shower, sixty eight years ago, that started it off. My good father, who could never quite resist the lure of a jumble shop on any occasion, was on his way home without an umbrella when he felt the first drops. Mr Gittins’ tumbledown store, which offered unsellable leftovers from all around,…
I should, of course, have known better than to go back there at all. But I am not particularly prone to nostalgia; I appreciated that the place where I once grew up was, even in those days, in need of change, and I was curious. So it was that I did go back, just a…
It was the spring of 1944; one could discern the season as one glimpsed the young leaves hesitantly peeping out from the trees that lined the tramway along the Bristol Road. Beyond that, Birmingham remained its proud but grimy old self, much as Victorian industry had left it, licking its wounds now from the Blitz…
Graham Dukes is a lawyer, physician, author and church organist. He lives in Oslo with his wife and co-contributor Elizabet Helsing.