Gothic is favourite, even with five-year-olds, it seems. My five-year old nephew, Big Al, knows what he likes and likes what he knows. Little boys don’t like bracing country walks: they get tired and bored half way through and need finessing all the way home. Little boys love soft play centres, but it is rather frenetic for … Continue reading »
The small blonde boy beamed beatifically at me as I brandished his snack. I was a little out of breath. Mainly because with four minutes to go, I had locked myself out of my house in which were my car keys, and had unwisely chosen my husbands decrepit old bike, a gearless brakeless wonder on … Continue reading »
Juggling two jobs and a busy weekend hath made me mad. I am distracted, and though the bulk of what I do is done well, there are moments when, were you to watch me, you would think I might be in need of medication or, at the very least, a little light counselling. This afternoon … Continue reading »
Should I be concerned that my cat has to think for a very long time before doing anything at all? I don’t mean when he’s hunting. When he’s hunting he’s razor-sharp with mighty fine reaction times to a point of movement. No: my concern refers to the time a cat takes to decide to do … Continue reading »
We have come a very long way since the St Louis World Fair and those quaint spring-wound Plato Clocks. The clock had a set of Rolodex type digit cards, the hours at the top, the minutes beneath.The whole thing was spring-wound. What a work of art, obsolete but intricate. Fast forward just over a century, … Continue reading »
We gazed at the dog, and the dog gazed back at us. “What?” he emanated. “So you think he looks like George Harrison circa 1970?” I enquired at length. “Well…yes…” Phil ruminated. The dog sat there. He might have wondered briefly, hopefully, if a walk was in the offing. Or chow. Chow would be nice. … Continue reading »
You don’t get a terrier for his gentlemanly habits. I think we’ve been over this before. You want something that primps and preens? Get a poodle. A ribboned handbag dweller? Something chihuahua-based. An affable stick-chaser? That would be your labrador. Does tricks? Collie. Terriers are like irascible old men and women. They like life the … Continue reading »
The dark early hours of a December Saturday morning are always magical for Phil and I. We switch on the early morning talk radio channel, Radio 4,and listen to pastoral programmes about the countryside. Farming Today keeps us in touch with the farming community; and this week it was talking about a strange virus, the Schmallenberg … Continue reading »
Seven o’clock in the evening, and all’s dark. Except for the growing number of cheery strings of Christmas lights piercing the damp gloom. Every street dog walk is punctuated by these gaudy acts of creation which cannot help but make one’s heart sing. Meanwhile, in a tall Swedish end of terrace on the wrong side … Continue reading »
Tears of mirth have of late been running down my face. And for all the wrong reasons. Mine, you see, is the land of mummers and Punch and Judy; of blatant slapstick humour which is shameless and ribald. Shakespeare did it; we all do it. Make rowdy jokes about wind. Tonight, like a Sultan, I … Continue reading »
