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Nigella Lawson rowed in public with Charles Saatchi.

In photographs published in a Sunday newspaper, the television chef appears to have become embroiled in a violent dispute with the wealthy art dealer.

The couple were sitting outside Scott’s in Mayfair, central London, when he appeared to lean over and grab her by the throat.

Lawson, 53, looked terrified before leaving the restaurant alone in floods of tears.

A witness told the Sunday People: “It was utterly shocking to watch.

“I have no doubt she was scared. It was horrific, really. She was very tearful and was constantly dabbing her eyes. Nigella was very, very upset. She had a real look of fear on her face.”

The witness added: “He looked guilty. It was clear he knew he’d done something wrong. He was menacing, there’s no question. She had been abused and humiliated in public.

“No man should do that to a woman. She raised her voice and got angry but at the same time was trying to calm him down, almost like you would try to calm down a child.”

I always knew Saatchi was a shit, but now it appears he is a stupid violent shit. Will he get away with it? Probably. Scotland Yard has received no complaints about the incident, which happened in a public place. No one intervened.

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The Civil Justice Centre, corner of Bridge Street and Gartside Street.

Opened on 24 October 2007, the Manchester Civil Justice Centre is the biggest court complex to be built in the UK since the Royal Courts of Justice were constructed in London between 1868-82.

On completion it had the largest glass wall in Europe: a 63m by 60m cavity glass wall as a façade along its western edge supported by sixty metre high triangular atrium columns all suspended from the 11-storey atrium roof.

The floors cantilever up to 15 metres from the building’s columns creating what the architect has dubbed “fingers”, a feature that gives the building some distinctive interior space.

Architects Denton Corker Marshall won Australia’s most prestigious architecture prize – the Royal Australian Institute of Architects National Awards (RAIA) Jørn Utzon Award for International Architecture for designing this building.

(Source: Skyscraper News)

Lemon

(Taken from The Book of Knowledge, edited by Harold F.B. Wheeler)

The demand for lemons increases by leaps and bounds as the mercury rises. In Italy, Sicily, Corsica, and other parts of southern Europe, particularly in Spain and Portugal, lemon culture has been a large commercial industry for many years.

The lemon is a close relative of the orange and has followed it all over the world. The straggling branches of the lemon tree, however, are very unlike the compact dense foliage of the orange, and the purplish flowers have not the agreeable fragrance of the white orange blossoms.

The lemon is much less hardy than the orange and the area of cultivation is more restricted. It is cultivated and propagated in much the same manner as is its near kinsman the orange.

If lemons ripen on the trees they lose their keeping quality, and so they are picked green, before there is any sign of the golden yellow colouring. Each picker has a little ring 2¼ inches in diameter, and the fruit is cut when it can just slip through the ring. From the moment the lemons are harvested they must be handled as carefully as eggs. In dark storehouses, well ventilated but free from draughts, they are spread out and slowly ripened. In curing, the fruit shrinks a little, the skin becomes thinner and tougher and develops a silky finish. When the process is completed the lemons are washed, dried, and wrapped in tissue paper. In this condition they will keep for months, which is a very good thing for the growers, as most of the fruit ripens in the winter and the great market demand is in the summer.

The lemon is used in more different ways than any other of the citrus fruits. From the rind, lemon oil or extract, used in flavouring and perfumery-making, is obtained either by expression or distillation, and candied lemon peel is made. The pulp yields citrate of lime, citric acid, and lemon juice. Besides its use in flavouring foods and drinks of various kinds, lemon juice is much used by calico printers to produce greater clearness in the white parts of patterns dyed with dyes containing iron.

Scientific name Citrus limonia, the lemon tree is exceedingly fruitful.

This is fucking awesome …

I called in my IT consultant and Personal Assistant Miss McKenzie because my keyboard was not configured to operate with my new PC. So annoying. She proposed a drastic solution to the problem …

venice in the snow

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Once more the cauldron of the sun
Smears the bookcase with winy red,
And here my page is, and there my bed,
And the apple-tree shadows travel along.
Soon their intangible track will be run,
And dusk grows strong
And they have fled.

Yes: now the boiling ball is gone,
And I have wasted another day …
But wasted – wasted, do I say?
Is it a waste to have imaged one
Beyond the hills there, who, anon,
My great deeds done,
Will be mine alway?

(Thomas Hardy, The Sun on the Bookcase)

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I wandered to a crude coast
Like a ghost;
Upon the hills I saw fires -
Funeral pyres
Seemingly – and heard breaking
Waves like distant cannonades that set the land shaking.

And so I never once guessed
A Love-nest,
Bowered and candle-lit, lay
In my way,
Till I found a hid hollow,
Where I burst on her my heart could not but follow.

(Thomas Hardy, The Discovery)

Now that it is all over until next year (!) here is a Christmassy poem by Tess Kincaid

There’s a place for us,
an oasis between fruitcake
and watering the tree,
with hot-and-cold running kisses,
that stretch restless,
from the hearth
out to the snow,
where I push you back pink
and holiday-faced,
knowing this smiling garland
around our necks
links forever compatible.

Black Dogs Defined

This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved and hated, like another: my life was as the vapour and is not; but this I saw and knew; this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory.

(John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies)

Whatever people say I am, that’s what I’m not.

(Alan Sillitoe, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning)

This is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me.

(Emily Dickinson, This is my letter to the world)

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

(Edna St. Vincent Millay, Second Fig)

R.A.D. Stainforth

I was born before The Beatles’ first LP and brought up in the reeking slums of Jericho. I am in love with a woman called Hazel and in love with her daughter, also called Hazel, both of whom I met at Alcoholics Anonymous.

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