Day 208
After two nights of not sleeping very well at all, partly caused by my despair at seeing summer pass so quickly, I slept almost too well last night. Probably because… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
After two nights of not sleeping very well at all, partly caused by my despair at seeing summer pass so quickly, I slept almost too well last night. Probably because… Continue Reading
The time table for today so far: 05:00 – wake up to go to loo; open garden door for cats; go back to bed. 07:00 – get up; Manuka honey;… Continue Reading
Today has just been one thing after another, with spreadsheets not tallying, VPN failures, worries about children, a seemingly unending flood of emails, simultaneous phone calls, etc etc. But I… Continue Reading
Today, I am paralysed by reality. … Self-censors … Being a parent is the most painful state of all … Self-censors … Our children remain our children, and we don’t… Continue Reading
Fourteen years and 5 months ago (not to the date), a very good friend of mine, T, died of cancer. I dreamed about him last night, that he’d somehow faked… Continue Reading
Of course, I am overjoyed that the Tories lost in Tiverton and Wakefield. Electoral pacts at the local level work. But the Tories still have a dictatorial overall majority of… Continue Reading
This morning is disappointingly cold and grey. It looks and feels and smells like it’s going to rain. I will need to go and change into some long trousers and… Continue Reading
It’s early evening. I have just come off my weekly Zoom with Colonel L, as I shall now call him, to distinguish him from other Ls. It’s 34C in my… Continue Reading
Let’s face it. Self-editing is all very well, but depression knows no self-editing. I slept solidly but badly, if that makes sense, was at my desk here by 7:45 putting… Continue Reading
When the Tories won the UK general election in 2010 and formed a coalition government with the Liberal Democrats, we warned that democracy would come under threat. When Cameron and… Continue Reading