Faint praise and a big birth

Sarah Hague's message, ruing my departure from the Daily Telegraph and posted to one of its blogs, was reassuring in its unambiguous simplicity.

But not all praise is so straightforward.

Sifting through some of the messages I received after my DT career was brought to an abrupt end, I came across the following words that appeared on a blog called Paris Link:
"One of the weirder blogs on the Paris blogosphere has changed places....."

The writer went on to describe my (previous) blog as surreal but "refreshingly different" from sites where writers rabbit on "about toenail clippings and what's going on outside their bedroom windows".

A word of warning: if you pursue my link, you need to leapfrog the claim that I am "spam", by hitting the further link provided, if you wish to read more.

Then there was the succession of messages on a football fans' forum, after I raised a Club vs Country debate at the Guardian's Comment is Free site ahead of what I am told was a dire Israel-England match.

Just as I was smiling at one supporter's mention of my "canny article" - canny taking the North Eastern sense - a decidedly harsher verdict popped up on the screen: "Aye, but he's nee Harry Pearson, mind......"

Best of all, though, came from a former foreign editor. To one of his successors, he said: "You know, I used to think Randall was a very limited journalist. But since he's been in Paris, I feel I have discovered more about France and the French than I ever knew."

Since the man was something of a bruiser (I was hardly unaware of his earlier view) but also lives part of the year in France, I think I'd settle for those words on the tombstone.

But that's enough - unless you have examples of your own. I warned that my UK trip would restrict visits to Salut!.

And thinking of bruisers, let me close with an otherwise unrelated piece of news. This morning, a smashing former colleague, Sally Pook, brought into the world an 8lb 10oz boy.

Having done with her exertions, she then sent me a text message saying the baby was such a monster "they couldn't get him out". Well, "they" did in the end, and I want to depart from theme to wish health and happiness to Sally, Marcus and - when I last checked - nameless big boy.