Don’t feed the pigeons

This is a short story I wrote on the way back from London.  Let me know what you think in the comments below!   As he stepped onto the platform the low, persistent rumble of the train was replaced by an altogether more muddled and frenetic ambiance. London. Liverpool Street station reverberated to the sound …

2011 round-up

Now that it's 2012, and I have a little spare time before I go back to work, I thought this would be a suitable opportunity to reflect on the past year and summarise what I've been up to. Family Ellie's operation Ellie gave us a bit of a scare earlier this year.  What started off …

At the bottom of the garden

This is a short story I wrote recently.  I had the idea while on I was on holiday last month, and when I got back I let it write itself in a couple of evenings.  Hope you like it!   At the bottom of the garden Amber was the sort of person who truly believed …

Shiny and new (part 3)

Some may call it excessive.  Others may call it compensation for 3 months of inactivity.  Others still may call it boredom.  In any case, this is my third blog post in the last half hour.  And yes, it's about something else that's shiny and new. Today was my first proper day out with Samuel.  Without …

Fly me to the moon. Or Brussels, if that’s closer.

It began with an early start.  Very early.  Just after 3am, in fact.  My boss was picking me up at 3:30am, to drive to Bristol airport, to catch a plane, to fly to Belgium, to catch a taxi to the office, to meet some people and talk about some stuff.  I had a brand spanking …

That’s not my children’s book

My son Samuel, who is 9 months old, has a book called "That's not my car".  Each page has a picture of a car on it, with wording along the lines of "That's not my car, its windows are too shiny."  Each car has a different tactile surface somewhere on it, illustrating the point.  The …

Overdoing it

I love living in the countryside.  There is warm sense of satisfaction in seeing tractors parked in the Co-op car park, of hearing cows mooing in a nearby field early in the morning, of the pungent smell of fresh manure wafting from the farm down the road, of knowing that rush hour traffic consists of …