Monthly Archives: January 2018

This morning, my eldest child turned 13. Good that he’s lasted that long, yes. Great that everything works and he is growing properly and that he is exhibiting all the signs of a proper pantomime teenage villain, which you would … Continue reading →

So, here’s a thing I’ve been thinking about. I listened to Jon Ronson’s podcast The Butterfly Effect on my slow, cold, knee-stiffening runs around the park: the series where he delves into the free porn phenomenon of the last 15 … Continue reading →

I’ve lived in London long enough to know that ‘pants’ mean knickers here. I do not have any new woolly knickers though – let’s make that unequivocally clear. But I can’t seem to write ‘woolly trousers’ because the ones I’m … Continue reading →

We’ve been in Devon again, colonising the pool and hot tub, making too much noise during the Christmas Day prayers at the Tawstock church, spending all our money buying three types of Christmas bird and two hams and pretty much … Continue reading →