There is something rugged and cool about grilling chunks of meat outside on a boiling summer afternoon, but so many of us are afraid to admit that we don't know what the hell we're doing out there – so thank God for the best grilling cookbooks to save our cooking failure butts. A good book can save you from making a culinary catastrophe.
Content marketing. It's not a term most writers are familiar with, likely because anything with the term 'marketing' in it makes us want to run away and cower in the safety of our tried and trusty pens and pads.
Theresa May's Father, Reverend Hubert Brasier, was born on 20th August 1917 at 61 Clonmore Street, Wandsworth, London. Like many people a century ago, his was a home birth. Hubert’s father, Tom Brasier, was a military man. He had served as a sergeant in the King's Royal Rifles, but was a clerk by the time Hubert was born. Hubert's mother's maiden name was Amy Margaret Patterson and they had married 8 years prior in Hampshire. Amy and Tom’s first son, James David Brasier, had died within a year of his birth in 1911 in Uttaranchal, India, where Tom Brasier had been deployed whilst in service. Two years later, in 1919, Hubert was joined by his younger sister and only other sibling Jean Robina Brasier.
It goes without saying that music is one of the biggest and continuously growing industries in the world and with more music available than ever before and it’s not just musicians that are in on the art form. Graphic artists make the cover art and band logos that define the way musicians are conveyed, cinematographers and animators have their time to shine too with music videos and the more memorable the better.
Hi. I suppose, being a paraplegic and in a wheelchair and all, that it’s about time that I invested some blog space and thought space into what that whole thing is like. I mean, it’s only been two years since I was shot, but oh boy have there been some learning curves and fun stories in that time. From grabbing onto the back of a motorcycle and subsequently spilling myself into the street, or having a friend jump into my lap and dump me over onto a packed dance floor (it’s like, I can’t double wheelchair myself, can I? Might as well have some fun with it!), or putting a hot plate on my lap for a few seconds and not feeling it and burning my thighs raw, there have been stories. Most of them do involve me falling.