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One essay a fortnight about the ordinary things — queues, allotments, the sea, other people's kitchens — written slowly and sent quietly.

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The British queue is a tiny constitution: unwritten, universally ratified, enforced by eyebrow.

Plot 14 taught me more about patience than any book — mostly by killing my courgettes.

You can read a whole biography in where someone keeps their wooden spoons.

Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity — and the only subject this publication has.

From 'On queueing', the first essay

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