My Dad and stepmother (not officially or of the evil variety) have moved in while they are um, between houses. I originally planned to write a blog series, a post a day about their stay. That hasn’t worked because I’ve only recently found my way back to the laptop. Isla is back at school today after a long weekend, and when she’s home she still asks me to hang out with her, SO THAT’S WHAT WE DO. And so, today.…
Last week, Sarge wandered into the bedroom, where I was reading and minding my own business. ‘I just bought something,’ he said. ‘What?’ I expected him to name some official noise-making device with numbers on the end of it. ‘You’re going to hate me. You’re never going to speak to me again. It’s terrible.’ ‘Whut?’ ‘I got an internet TV box. Blah, blah, blah (some numbers). And it has Netflix.’ I looked at him over my book. ‘It has what…
I’ll repeat, instant coffee taste like mushrooms. Fact. That’s why, as I write this, there is a cup of zombie coffee by my side. Anyway, these are, as ever, coffee-fuelled ramblings. And so, this week, I went out for more real coffee with a friend. I discovered many things: It’s OK that I can’t get through five pages of Saturday or Enduring Love. It isn’t just me. Apparently, I can’t go five minutes without talking about THE WEDDING. And that’s…
