I've been expecting to hear of Paul Newman's passing since news of his terminal cancer was reported earlier this year but I'm no less sorry that the day has now arrived.
He was every bit a truly great cinema actor who's work has given us immense pleasure and happiness to watch.
Only after reading many books on Hollywood and the movies, particularly William Goldman's 'Adventures in the Screen Trade', I begun to be aware of what incredibly high regard his profession and peers hold him in. He became, during the course of my reading, a recurring motif in these books for a universally admired and loved person.
And it's easy to see why. Not only modest, ego-less, humorous and liberal, he led an exemplary life for a Human Being.
Married and faithful to the same woman for over 50 years, he put his family before all things. He enjoyed but never took his work too seriously. Passionate and politically active, he was a campaigning Democrat and a vocal supporter of gay rights and marriage.
He understood that the disproportionate fame and wealth, that came with his work, could be turned to benevolent, philanthropic goodness. His 'Newman's Own' products donate 100% of all profit to charity and have generated more than 100 million dollars to charitable causes.
What finer life can one have than to have lived it so selflessly and to leave behind such great films like 'The Hustler', 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid', 'The Verdict' and 'The Hudsucker Proxy'.
Furthermore, like so many great men, Paul Newman was Hungarian. Well, one-quarter Polish and three-quarters Hungarian. His mother was born in Hungary and his father was the son of a of a Hungarian father and a Polish mother.
Whilst not quite the rich bounty we procured in March, we nonetheless came away satisfied with our bargains. Our haul included; a stack of children's books, a boy's 1970's sports duvet cover and pillow cases, an egg poacher, a couple of Midwinter plates, glass cake stands and a baby blanket. Stephen got a 'Learn what your handwriting says about you' book, a fabulous 3-D tiger picture and a pair of comedy spectacles. And I was very jealous of David's find, a really nice Sony turntable. 
An absolutely gobsmackingly beautiful morning. Cloudless blue sky, crisp, cold and a low sun, casting long shadows and golden beams of autumn light. The kind of morning that, with a slight post Ranos hangover (4 superb episodes last night), makes it a privilege to cycle through London.
Ibolya and I went to a liturgy and reception at Southwark Cathedral in aid of the Keiskamma Art for Aids Project. Ibolya's boss does a lot of work and raises money for the Project and has organised a series of fund raising events this week.
The project has created a magnificent altarpiece, based on Grunewald's Isenheim triptych and has been displayed in many countries to raise awareness to the impact that HIV/Aids and poverty has on people in South Africa
Bradford town hall
Waterstone's, the old Trade Hall, I think?
Back street yards in Saltaire
Saltaire model village
Congressional Church, Saltaire
The Mill gates, Salts Mill
Salts Mill
Victoria Hall, Saltaire
A cottage in Titus Street, Saltaire
Lots to catch up from a weekend away with my parents to see my Dad's childhood homes in Bradford and other attractions in the area. These were his first 3 homes. The first picture is the bungalow where he was born, nearly 77 years ago.
We had the great pleasure of hosting dinner for Stephen and Christophe on Tuesday and Sarah and Lee on Thursday. This was Thursday's Fish Pie, one of my signature dishes, and Lee's sensational, homemade, treacle pudding. He even made homemade custard to go with it. 
Little One will have been in Ibolya's tummy for 31 weeks on Tuesday, leaving only 9 weeks left before he or she enters the world, on or around the 3rd of December.
It was an extraordinary feeling the other day, when, cuddling Little One and Ibolya in bed, I could feel a pounding heartbeat through Ibolya's tummy. It made me feel incredibly close, physically and emotionally, to the tiny Human Being, in between us, wriggling to find a comfy position.
Little One will have to make the most of the tummy gymnastics, as space is fast running short as he grows rapidly and in a couple of weeks he'll be a tightly curled bundle of about 32cm. 
We have a GP visit this Thursday and the nursery will be feeling more complete when the family crib, very significantly, is passed from Sara to me this week. 
I've been expecting to hear of Paul Newman's passing since news of his terminal cancer was reported earlier this year but I'm no less sorry that the day has now arrived.
