Back when I lived in London I enjoyed the nice weather up until around late spring, but then the humidity would arrive, and the bad-tempered, sweaty men on the northern line would take up even more room while manspreading, and the air felt like it had somehow thickened in the heat, which was a phenomenon I had always previously assumed was reserved for sauces alone.… Read More Bloody well summer, innit.
Now that I have a whole dwelling to myself, I spend an inordinate amount of time reading articles about all of the ways I’m failing to maintain an aspirational millenial home. I don’t have a cactus. Nothing is rose gold. I literally couldn’t give a shit about hygge.
Unfortunately, though, it is not even remotely in my nature to have a curated or (perish the thought) minimalist living situation. I like stuff too much.… Read More So, I might not be a minimalist
So with that in mind, I chucked my little bird book in my bag this time. I’ve had it since I was a little eight-year-old birdwatcher (I feel like, given the rest of this post, that shouldn’t be a particularly surprising revelation). One side of it is stained with blood from where I cut my knee while running up the garden path, because they teach you about scissors as a kid, but they never teach you the dangers of being a baby geek.… Read More I’ve hit Peak Countryfile and it’s lovely
The Cornwall to London sleeper train is a great way to get about the country if you have to arrive up country (yes, I just said ‘up country’. I say that now.) early in the morning for reasons of business, travel, or a desire to maximise all free food opportunities available to you during a… Read More The Cornwall to London Sleeper train: A timeline (dignity not included)
Famously, I lost my shit a few months ago over a single shooting star, so I feel like we all know how the walk home went. My initial disappointment at seeing clouds in the sky broke up as fast as they did. Stars started to move. I made some very loud ‘ooh’ noises, completely ignoring the fact that people in pretty, probably-not-double-glazed houses were trying to sleep. Then I staggered home like a drunk person because I was looking up at the sky the entire way. Which was fine, because I only nearly died twice.… Read More Fake space and real space are great
I’m not going to lie. It’s hard. I try to take it one day at a time, and it works perfectly well from Mid-January to Mid-November. And then the truly dangerous times hit. The times where I’m just one glass of rosé and an hour with a pack of Sun-In away from sacking everything else off and fulfilling my destiny as a one-woman tribute band, desperately searching for the chink of light at the end of the giant, Wham!-shaped tunnel.… Read More I can never live up to Wham! and that’s why I drink
I filled in all of the forms, and even told the truth about my alcohol intake because, like I said, I am a grown up now, and grown ups don’t lie about how much wine they put away while watching Countryfile.… Read More N.H. Oh Yes.