All the things I do instead of writing…
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 →
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 