Julian Summerhayes
@juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
480 followers 110 following 1.7K posts
Spiritual and cultural activist, lover of poetry and inveterate walker https://juliansummerhayes.wordpress.com/
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juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
Imagine all those people who have lost their content on Typepad www.typepad.com
www.typepad.com
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
I doubt if many non-migrants could pass it.
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
The world of recruitment is a complete lottery.
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
Frankly, I have no idea what I'm going to say when I write to a law firm where I don't know who I'm writing to, and there is no indication other than some oblique reference. I might as well say "dear reference" or "dear unknown", for what it's worth. 2/2
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
I see The Law Society has now given guidance for all solicitors to abandon the use of the expression "Dear Sirs".
1/2
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
The photography on @bsky.app is out of this world.
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
Books, ITVX and Audio (I have found all 42 episodes online). A bit of Mortimer QC fest tbh. Oh, and on Audible.
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
Job titles still mystify me especially as they rarely make sense alongside what the person actually does in practice, e.g. Chief People Officer. (What is a 'people officer' in any event?)
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
It's a heart warming story and if only we'd leave nature alone...
Reposted by Julian Summerhayes
sardonicus.eu
George Mackley’s wood engraving The Deserted Farm, 1952
a road crossing a narrow stone bridge, a broken tree, still with leaves, and a larger house by the road side
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
"To not grieve is a violence to the Divine and our own hearts and especially to the dead. If we do not grieve what we miss, we are not praising what we love." - Martín Prechtel
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
I have so enjoyed getting back into Rumpole of the Bailey. Great stories; great writing; and lots of old-style, legal humour.
juliansummerhayes.bsky.social
I love it when you do some digging in the garden (turning over the soil with an old fork) and the birds -- mostly blackbirds -- start queuing for feeding time. It's like: "Hurry up, mate; we're hungry".