Requiescat in pace Uncle Ian

My Uncle Ian died yesterday morning.

He was a kind man, a quiet man, a good man, a private man.

He taught me about ornithology, stamps and how to get slugs off dahlias.

He designed an extraordinary house for him and my godmother which showed me that architecture and good design were an essential part of daily life.

He had a passion for dessert wine, for puddings, and for good chocolate.

He often wore bizarre ties, didn’t like cats and usually did the washing up at parties so he didn’t have to talk to idiots.

He had the verbal equivalent of a single raised eyebrow.

I loved him very, very much.