Brief Encounter.

This morning my knees hurt more than usual as I staggered up the escalator at Marylebone, and the prospect of another day’s futile submissions before an uncaring tribunal (whose civil practice leads him to view all criminal hacks as witless shysters who provide some comic relief at their own expense) weighed heavily. The dimly remembered […]

Peace and Pancakes.

(written on the 26th June) I am in hiding. Isobel has had five friends for a sleepover. She achieved this coup de maison by the tried and tested method of telling Lisa that I had agreed and telling me that Lisa said it was ok. Over the days running up to this takeover Lisa and I did […]

On the Seventh Day…

(written on the 28th June during the Brexit trauma) I took some time off yesterday from frothing at the mouth while spewing anti-democratic bilge to go to court. I had spent the weekend anxiously preparing for trial (ha ha, I only put that in for any solicitors reading this, in reality I prepare for trial […]

French Leave.

  We are not a family for planning, as is evidenced by the 15 month gap between the births of our children. And we are very much of the “Go now, fuck it up en route” school of thought when it comes to holidays. This particular year was no different from any other. We had […]

Think Fast.

Sean finished his breakfast, pushed his bowl away and looked at me with a resigned air, “Time to add to my collection of ‘Well Done’ stickers”. Sports Day – a day when at one of my children’s schools I practise my ‘shucks-I-know’ smile, while at the other we practise our brave faces. Sean has been […]

Festival. Oh god. Two.

Morning Two. Yesterday was a mixed bag. Went for an early run. Met a terribly nice chap on my return called Olly who, overlooking the fact I was shouting ‘Fucking Footloose again?’ (My iPod was stuck on repeat), explained he had a bedroom in the house and I could use his bath. Delighted and grateful […]

Festival. Oh god.

Morning One of the Jxxx Festival. After a late arrival, thanks in part to Sean’s school disco and more significantly to my pressing need for donuts, I park the van with the aid of a handbrake turn and hit the dancefloor. Bad idea. Can’t work out why people are wearing ponchos. The children go for a […]