All the things I do instead of writing…
At the end of last year, back in a life that seemed full of now obsolete concerns like train delays, I was thinking about giving up work. It has been some time since I found work fulfilling, and the sense of purpose I used to derive from it has been eroded by three sets of... Continue Reading →
January 2020 seems a long time ago. Back then, I was frustrated by the new-at-the-time HSBC ad. I hate being asked where I am from, and I hate thinking about it. Of course we all ask each other various questions designed to understand the parameters of the person we are talking to, for no particularly... Continue Reading →
We had a pretty uneventful Christmas. Just the same as every other person who comes back into the office a few days after New Year, I'm sure we both fell into the same patter of "Yeah, quiet one for us, stayed at home". I vaguely envy the people who post pictures of their family Christmas... Continue Reading →
Tom Ballard's surely soon to be confirmed death on Nanga Parbat makes me so sad. When his mother, Alison Hargreaves, died on K2 in 1995 I was on holiday in Cornwall, and still remember opening The Independent (when it was still a great paper) and reading a two-page spread about her quite amazing achievements. They... Continue Reading →
I have been resting from my writing more than usual. This is mainly because of the usual loss of faith in any of my abilities, whether creative, professional or maternal. I never embarked on the more creative endeavour of journalism that I wanted when I was 24, because it was quite likely even when newspapers... Continue Reading →
As ever, I have many thoughts throughout the day that I am keen to write about. The text pours forth in my imagination, smoothly and seamlessly onto the page, musing wittily about some aspect of my life that is relevant, like the books I've been reading, movies I've been watching, or fun outdoor stuff I've... Continue Reading →
I am not a 1980s climber; I am merely a soft, middle-class, comfortable climber with aspirations to go sport climbing in the Spanish sunshine more often. The climbers of legend were all dropouts of various degrees, who were disillusioned with the system, rendered unemployed by a combination of Conservative policy in the UK, and by... Continue Reading →
I don't know why people have such strong opinions on Milton Keynes, particularly when they've never even been there. When I tell people it's where I live, they look totally nonplussed, and invariably say something like "oh, all those roundabouts", or "but you're quite sophisticated, I can't imagine you living there". Yes, ok, it does... Continue Reading →
When I was reading Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee, it was such a totally absorbing book that as I went about my own domestic tasks every day, I could picture these poor women in 1920s Korea, running their households with nothing, and trying to make every little grain of barley matter. In the later parts... Continue Reading →
I was going to finish writing up all my tips for climbing with children, before we took our children on a weekend bouldering trip to Fontainebleau in France. As usual, I didn't quite get around to it, so I'll give anyone who's interested an account of a) just how great Font is with kids, and... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 