• Stories

    A Quote About Reading

    September 26, 2016

    “Because when I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.” – Bohumil Hrabal,…

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  • Stories

    Castles and Cabins

    September 20, 2016

    There are times – general elections and EU referendums, and that sort of thing – where being British can feel maddening, embarrassing and exasperating, even. But, there are times like today (and many other days) when I love the very bones of this country. Its magnificent countryside with undulating hills and villages nestled into valleys. Pub windows glowing in the…

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  • Stories

    Holiday

    September 14, 2016

    Four blissful days of free time are unfurling. We’ve booked the rest of this week off work, and time is standing pleasantly still tonight: the sun is setting, drawing long golden fingers across the white walls of our bedroom. Four mornings, four lunches and four evenings are laid out in front of us, ours to devour before we return to our normal routine, and…

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  • Stories

    An Important Lesson

    September 13, 2016

    If there’s one thing I’m usually pretty good at, it’s compartmentalising. In fact, I’m so good at it that I realised (as I lay tossing and turning in bed last night) that there are many memories I’ve forgotten. Things that definitely happened – because there’s simply no way that they can’t have occurred – but I’ve filed them away…

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  • Opinions

    September

    September 5, 2016

    I think blogging must be the most self-indulgent thing in the world. I guess it kind of is, isn’t it!? I also think that’s why I take a break away from it sometimes, feeling a little self conscious about the number of times I’ve written “I” and “‘me” and “we”. As if I have the audacity to actually…

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  • Stories

    Going Home

    August 9, 2016

    Above my head, some way beyond the windscreen of our car, is a blur of green – a canopy of leaves punctuated with holes, scattering sharp beams of sunlight from the midday sun. Trees bend towards one another to form an archway of leaves and branches, leading us down a country road I’ve not travelled on for years. It’s been a…

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  • Stories

    The Heat

    July 24, 2016

    This week bought heat. A thick, muggy blanket of hot air, sticky skin and fatigue. At night, we slept under paper thin bedsheets with an old fan repaired with cable ties and electrical tape, and we talked about how much we wanted a thunderstorm to break the sky and cut through the humidity. I’m making it sound as…

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  • If I were to ask you to tell me about yourself, what would you say? Would you start with what you do for a living? Would you tell me that you’re a mother, a father, a sibling or a spouse? I’m curious (and actually it would be really nice if you fancy telling me a bit about yourself…

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  • ‘Norway cottage’, ‘Lilac Cottage’ and ‘Rose Cottage’ read the house names: 1869, red brick and yellow stone. Meandering lanes and country gates, children playing on bikes and adults tending to their front gardens – it’s idyllic, and as British and traditional as ‘Middle England’ gets. It was a Sunday, and after a good night’s rest and a new tank…

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  • Stories

    Seeing off June

    July 7, 2016

    June was a blur of politics, commitments and responsibilities. Busy, packed to the rafters and fuzzy around the edges, it’s unsurprising that – between our looming exit from the European Union (…I know. Urgh. I know. 🙁 ) and the disarray of the Conservative and Labour parties, we’ve felt bewildered that adults more ‘adult’ than us didn’t know what to do next. So, as I suspect…

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