Trevor’s latest brainwave: individual thoughts on ageing

From time to time, Trevor likes us to pool our thoughts on a topic of interest. This time, he has chosen the topic of ageing, relevant to all of us, but most particularly to those of us nearer the end than the beginning. Trevor Plumbly 75 Ageing is a polite way of describing the fact that you’ve reached a stage in life when very few people seem older than you. To counter this and avoid depression it’s best to reflect rather than anticipate. I find that if you avoid reality, it makes… Read More

Big boys don’t cry by Trevor Plumbly

It was the season It wasn’t an easy year for the Berbals, but we’re still hanging together. Ange had the pressure of giving up the family pile, all manner of family health worries and of course wrestling with the vagaries and intrigue of the NZ real estate market. Even Ems, usually breezy, chock full of job pressures, kids and carrying her habitual load of others’ problems seems a bit frayed round the edges. For me, it’s been a strange year, beginning with the discovery that my sight loss is on a bit… Read More

It’s Not My Bloody Fault! By Trevor Plumbly

She’s Got Her Troubles I’m getting a bit wary about having a pint with Emily; all sorts of dire stuff seems to befall her afterwards. One time she ended up half dead and hints at my involvement: what the bloody hell does she expect when she leaves the pub and goes on to cram her pudding chute with tofu. I’ve tried to explain to the girl my mother’s wisdom that there’s a difference between scratching your bum and tearing yourself to pieces, but it just doesn’t sink in. Anyway, I’ve got my… Read More

Willy Bags and Mondays Always Get Me Down by Emily Smart

Day 7 (insert dodgy Geordie accent) in the Glasgow-Smart household. It has been the longest week of my life – apart from whenever my mother-in-law stays. I have been ill. You’ve probably heard. As with most aspects of my life, I don’t like to keep things quiet. If I’m suffering, then everyone I know needs to suffer my suffering. So: it all started last Sunday with an innocuous pint with Trevor down the pub. Many of my tales begin with a quiet Sunday afternoon pint with Trevor and end in drunken debauchery… Read More