A Shed Of One’s Own
If Virginia Woolf was writing today, she could well have titled her famous essay A Shed of One’s Own, rather than A Room of One’s Own. With property prices the way they are, the chance of having the l...
Read moreIf Virginia Woolf was writing today, she could well have titled her famous essay A Shed of One’s Own, rather than A Room of One’s Own. With property prices the way they are, the chance of having the l...
Read more‘The trouble with us’, says a friend who used to edit a Sunday newspaper and is now retraining as a chef, ‘is that we used to be somebody’. Did we? Or perhaps I should say ‘Did I’? Because said friend...
Read moreLet’s talk about Joe. Its been a while. I take down my cuttings folder and find a piece I wrote for The Standard soon after he was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes in January 2009. There he is all blon...
Read moreWhat can I tell you about clothes at the dawn of 2018. That you had better get in there quick. T.S Eliot wasn’t joking when he said April was the cruellest month. Although he possibly wasn’t talking a...
Read moreAs I dive into another scorched almond/slice of panetone/lebekuchen for the 26th day on the trot, it’s tempting to think of the good a large dose of Magnesium Citrate might do me right now. Possibly...
Read moreHands up who hated school? I’m rather anticipating a sea of hands, here – but mine will probably be the most eager, the one reaching most determinedly sky-wards – because pretty much as soon as I’d le...
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