One from the distant past of January 2012: Friday night came around again, and once again I was busy trying to clear out my inbox in an effort to attain the elusive Monday morning with time on my hands to actually think and plan. Before I knew it, it was 9 pm, so I cleared... Continue Reading →
The hopes and fears of all the years
Yes, it's the 3rd of September, and the Christmas ads are already poking out of the woodwork. It's that rather mournful time of year, when everything at work and at school goes back to being busy and overwhelmed with tedious chores that need doing, but we don't yet have the benefits of sticking the heating... Continue Reading →
Touching my soul
With age, I am becoming a compulsive oversharer. Maybe time seems so precious and so short that I don't want to waste any of it talking about the weather. But then, I'm also fascinated by people who care about handbags, and want to get inside their heads. I want to ask them where their ring... Continue Reading →
Falling out of love with ballet
I think I was nine when my father bought a debenture (i.e. a season ticket for a posh activity) to the Australian Ballet. We seemed to be there every other week, and it probably wasn't far off. Giselle made a big impression, mainly because the storyline of a woman abandoned and driven to insanity and... Continue Reading →
Vogue surrealism
I have been quite a fan of Vogue since I was a teenager, and now that I actually have a house and everything, I also have a Vogue subscription. In 1995, when I was 17 and quite definitely a dancing queen, there were photo spreads of beautiful models, wearing obviously expensive clothes in expensive materials.... Continue Reading →
Our weekend
We are sitting on the 6.53 train, slightly later than planned, on a Monday morning. It is forecast to rain all week. The world is hurtling towards mutual destruction. We don't spend enough time with the kids. We never have enough time to feel on top of our chores. My job is too hard. Boo... Continue Reading →
Master builder of dreams
Today was not really the day I wanted to see almost three hours of Ibsen. The children had been a bit fussy all day; nothing unusual, just crying at inopportune moments, the older one getting upset about me going out, the little one wanting more of my milk in the middle of M&S, and then... Continue Reading →
Envy politics
London tube strikes are always amusing. The streets swarm with a variety of tourists holding the hilarious belief they will be able to hail a taxi, commuters who have decided they're on safari and wander round with big backpacks and integrated hydration systems, and of course the hobby cyclists who try to get themselves killed... Continue Reading →
A view from the bridge
I don't get to go the theatre very often any more. I sometimes miss it, but given it means I don't see my baby for a whole day, there is even more pressure for it to be worth it than that engendered by the cost of the tickets. So a play really needs to have... Continue Reading →
Why I hate gardening
Everyone in England wants a garden to call their own. It's one of the main reasons they move out of London, if they were not fortunate enough to have bought a house in Hampstead in the 1960s. Ironically, no one particularly wants a house in Hampstead Garden Suburb, as it seems to have very little... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 