You Don’t Love Ducklings Like I Do
Winter’s dry, and Summer’s wet, and they laughed at you and I, in a pop-up tent in Somerset, but they didn’t sit on a pink mat, drinking pink wine, wearing…
Front of house
Across the road from the converted Victorian house in which I live is a tremendously ugly estate. No doubt it was some bright young architect’s utopian dream, and perhaps it’s…
The Boss
My housemate F is a scriptwriter. Not only is he a more talented writer than me, he is also far more dedicated, and on evenings when I can be found…
Where Has My Steep Garden Gone?
The steep garden might’ve died, the lawn with white clover may have sunk out of sight. These are tired times, the seasons don’t stick to their promised arrivals, the snowdrops…
The modern cave-dweller
I’ve never been a great fan of central heating. A cold house is a grey, unhappy place, but somehow the ambient, uniform warmth you get from radiators and thermostats is…
A Witch-Finger Stick
Using a witch-finger stick to plant beans around a tee-pee. She must have eaten thousands of runner beans. She still prods the earth around a cart-wheel like the queen of…
April fool
I fondly remember the occasion, in a previous place of employment, when we posted a news story on our website claiming that a new Muppets feature film was being produced.…
The end of the adventure
In a rather exciting development, a poet friend of mine, Mattias Thomas, has agreed to give me a poem each week to put up on this blog. A small circle…
Terra Nova
Today marks 100 years since the last entry in Robert Falcon Scott’s diary. I was talking to my friend C yesterday and we both agreed that, the more you see…
Signs of spring #2
Apart from the floral signs of spring, there are also other indications that warmer weather is on the way, including the annual phenomenon known as Tit Monday. Every year, my…
