All the things I do instead of writing…
Like most parents of small-ish children, I spend a lot of time reading fairy tales. I was reading my four year old a very short, slightly boring version of Cinderella, and my 9 year old snuggled in. He was quite aggrieved at the details being "wrong". In the version he reads, the coachman is crafted... Continue Reading →
Every year since I graduated twenty-one years ago, the phone rings with an Oxford prefix. Nearly all of us who matriculated in 1997 get this call, and each year we want it to be over before it has begun. I seem to be almost alone amongst my contemporaries in always picking up, despite knowing how... Continue Reading →
It was our 8th wedding anniversary recently. Given that my lovely husband is currently entirely housebound (and more or less confined to the sofa) with a climbing injury, I was being as upbeat as possible about adventures we have had. Indeed, smashing your Achilles in pieces and a few calf muscles to boot, within 6... Continue Reading →
How to fail at not failing
Have you ever eaten a Mars bar when really, really hungry? I once got to the shaking with cold sweat stage of hungry, because I had forgotten my wallet at work. I eventually asked a colleague for £1 for the vending machine, because I didn't want to admit that I was so ditsy I didn't... 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 →
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 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 →
I am 40. It is raining. I have no car keys (long story), and I am too pregnant to walk more than half a mile each way. The shops I want to go and hang out in, like some bored teenager, are 1.5 miles away. So I'm listening to Smooth Radio, which right now features... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 