Time to look outward.
On Thursday night I whizzed down to Oxford to stay with elder daughter and her family. I was there for a trustees' meeting of The Blackden Trust , held in Magdalen College . Magdalen (pronounced Maudlyn) is an impossibly beautiful place of golden stone, quiet cloisters and green quads. Many Oxford and Cambridge colleges are similarly beautiful. I have never forgotten my father, a working class boy from the North of England, wandering the colleges on his first visit when he was about fifty and saying, stunned and appreciative but with a touch of sadness "When I was a child, I couldn't even have imagined that places like this existed." Until he went away on National Service he did not realise that it was not simply a fact of life that if you touched a tree you came away with black on your hands. He and his generation thought that the sooty smudge was nature, not pollution. Oxford colleges dreaming in the sun were a world away from rainy Rochdale. Bur before th