All the things I do instead of writing…
Last week was quite the bonanza of activity. I have yet to write my thoughts on Monday's meeting with friends from college, but I certainly will. It connects to Macbeth. Everything connects to the themes in Macbeth, which this production was very keen to emphasise. They might as well have slapped an IDF badge on... Continue Reading →
On the 5th March, I went to see The Royal Ballet's Manon. I was meant to see don Quixote in the autumn, but a subsequently cancelled train strike meant we decided to rebook when it was offered. I really didn't want to see Manon at all, having first watched it in about 2007 and found... Continue Reading →
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 →
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 →
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 →
The resting writer 