Sam 🧡🧡🧡

Our weekend in pictures!! There are so many more! Im so thankful to Andrea Swift for making their dreams come true!!

Another TV celebrity ruined by drugs and alcohol. This is Bungle from Rainbow, now living on the streets.

@theatre_direct Honestly a night in the chokey!! I couldn’t stand a week of the wailing!! #NotaPhantomFan

✨ STAGEY QUESTION ✨ If you had to choose?

@joelcomm Its the icy version of archery or trap shooting.

Serious question. How is "Curling" an Olympic sport? #Olympics2026

16 February 1926 | A German Jewish girl Margot Frank, Anne's older sister, was born in Frankfurt. She and her family went into hiding in Amsterdam. After being arrested, they were deported with their parents to #Auschwitz. The sisters perished in Bergen-Belsen.

16 February 1939 | Dutch Jewish boy, Jesayes Visser, was born in Rotterdam. He was deported to #Auschwitz from #Westerbork in September 1942. He was murdered in a gas chamber after the arrival selection. --- ▶ Video about the first two gas chambers created near Auschwitz II-Birkenau: youtu.be/Rr6lF75fDmU

Happy @taylorswift13 day to those who celebrate!!! - I recommend it, the day holds only expectations……..what will she do??

@basichloel @MikaFanClub Great choice!

i was mad at Harry Styles so I went to see Mika

How to ruin a great song!!! #Volare - also is she reading the words??

@samhailes Good for him. Its a great taboo (OH did have a friend ‘fess up to him about just that so even in my small world I know its a thing)

Came across a completely unique Christian ministry recently. I didn't know this was happening (let alone needed) premierchristianity.com/real-life/chri…

@dave_mcpartlin @dazmoll Its just a park - does it close at all? I can’t remember if there are gates that close.

@samneeclogg @dazmoll Love the idea of Primross Hill but not sure if it closes at sunset....

Shy bairns get nowt & all that, so here goes...am taking our Y5s on a budget but action-packed trip to London tomorrow & would love to take them up somewhere high to see the skyline lit up at night. Any chance anyone could help us with contacts, passes or open some doors? 🤞🏻🙏

@marishawallace Ticketty Boo thank you!

I feel like I haven’t given my twitter any love lately! How is everyone?

@dave_mcpartlin @dazmoll Or walk over one of the bridges - Westminster offers amazing views (see the poem!!!)

@sharrond62 PS 450 kids, not a tiny village school!

@sharrond62 Our local primary school buys all local meat bread rolls & veg - cook can get good deals as she knows the suppliers, all delicious!

Why aren’t British schools supporting British farmers?

@Leighlines @sharrond62 @Togetherdec Bath is already extremely unwelcoming because of the traffic system - this will close the doors to many

BATH: The LibDems and the Net zero zealots want our city split in 4 with no through traffic. (Oxford is being chopped into 6.) Free Bath Streets formed with support from @Togetherdec to resist and were called conspiracy nutters. 15 minute cities are coming. Believe us now?

Four Old Men. Two Wheelchairs. One Beach. Alan Alda’s 90th Birthday January 28, 2026. Alan Alda turned 90. His family planned a safe celebration at home. Cake. Balloons. Grandkids. Alan said no. “I don’t want a party,” he said. His daughter frowned. “Dad… you’re turning ninety. This is a big deal.” “I know,” Alan said. “But I don’t want to celebrate here.” “Then where?” Alan didn’t hesitate. “I want to go to the beach.” The room went still. “The beach?” “Dad, you’re in a wheelchair.” “You can barely stand.” Alan smiled. That smile. The Hawkeye Pierce smile — the one that always meant something stubborn was coming. “So?” By that afternoon, he had already decided who was coming. “The four of us,” he said. “The last four.” Gary Burghoff. Jamie Farr. Mike Farrell. And himself. The final survivors of the 4077th. “No cameras. No interviews. No speeches,” Alan said. “Just us.” The phone calls began. Gary answered first. “Happy birthday, old man! Ninety!” “Thanks. I need you to drive.” “Drive where?” “To the beach.” A pause. “Alan… you’re in a wheelchair.” “So are facts. They don’t stop me either.” Gary laughed. That Radar laugh Alan had known for over fifty years. “Fine. But I’m not pushing you through sand.” “I’ll crawl if I have to.” “You’re insane.” “I’m Hawkeye. Same thing.” Jamie Farr was next. “The beach?” Jamie said. “I’m ninety-one and in a wheelchair.” “Then we’ll have two wheelchairs at the beach.” “Like a parade?” “Like a victory lap.” Jamie laughed until his voice cracked. “You haven’t changed since 1972.” “And you’re still Klinger.” “Fine. I’m in.” Mike Farrell sighed the moment he answered. “Let me guess,” he said. “You want me to push your wheelchair.” “Yes.” “I’m eighty-six. I use a cane.” “BJ Hunnicutt once saved a man with dental floss,” Alan said. “You’ll manage.” Long pause. “…Fine.” January 28. 6:00 a.m. Gary arrived in a rented van. Two wheelchair spaces. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. At Alan’s house, his daughter hovered. “Dad, are you sure?” “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” “What if something happens?” “Something is always about to happen at ninety,” Alan said. “Might as well happen at the beach.” Jamie was waiting outside his house. Wheelchair. Sunglasses. Hawaiian shirt. “You coordinated outfits?” Gary asked. “It’s tradition,” Jamie said. “The 4077th always matched.” Mike showed up next. Also in a Hawaiian shirt. Four old men. One van. Heading west. On the drive, memories filled the air. Harry driving too fast. Larry bringing his own wine. Radar making everyone cry. Klinger never sleeping. When the MASH* theme song came on, no one spoke. After it ended, Alan said quietly, “That song used to annoy me.” “Now?” “Now it just reminds me how lucky we were.” At Malibu, reality hit. Wheelchairs don’t work on sand. Jamie grumbled. Mike rubbed his back. Alan stared at the ocean. Gary disappeared. Fifteen minutes later, he returned with two lifeguards and two beach wheelchairs. One lifeguard whispered, “My grandmother watched MASH* every night.” It took time. Transfers were slow. Hands trembled. Bones protested. But they made it. To the water. Alan closed his eyes. The sound of waves. Salt in the air. Sun on his face. “I forgot what this felt like,” he said. They talked about the ones who weren’t there. McLean. Wayne. Larry. Harry. Bill. David. Loretta. Jamie finally broke the silence. “Let’s race.” Two wheelchairs. Two pushers. One rock. They raced. They tied. People on the beach stared. A teenager asked, “What are those old guys doing?” His mother said, “Living.” As the sun set, Alan spoke. “This might be the last time.” No one argued. “That’s why it matters,” he said. “Because we know.” He made a wish. “One more year.” “One more adventure.” “Korea. Together.” They promised.

Many respondents should have said “Learn to count” …

Be careful Austria, if he's coming for you next.

Can we discuss the ridiculous milk sachets given out on Planes these days- just flew @VirginAtlantic - great flights both ways (apart from the food!) but those silly plastic sachets? Three is barely enough for a cuppa. @Ryanair use them too. Can’t Stewards pour from a jug?