Category Archives: Domestic bliss

In which I mark a milestone

I have been putting off writing about a special twenty-year anniversary. But first, apologies are in order. Yet again, I find that another season has passed without me writing here. This was never meant to be a quarterly affair, but … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which I languish in limbo

You could write an entire PhD thesis about how difficult it is for academics to relax on holiday. (And whoever’s writing it would be lying on the sofa by the Christmas tree right now, fretting about how they really ought … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which I make the best of things

Greetings from the tail end of a typical British bank holiday, where the big highlight was gardening in the rain. In all seriousness, it was rather lovely to be out tidying up the flower beds in the fresh air, among … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which we fast-forward

The phrase bleak midwinter was first coined by the English poet Christina Rossetti in 1872 and went viral when composer Gustav Holst incorporated her text into a carol a few decades later. Although the words are clearly meant to evoke … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which we celebrate

Christmas, I argue, is a space-time continuum where the past and present layer up like sediments on the Jurassic coast. At the appointed time, old traditions are unearthed out of storage to mingle with those spontaneously invented as you go … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which I age backwards

I don’t know if it’s just me, but for the last few years, I’ve forgotten how old I am. Because I spend so much of the year pessimistically rounding up, I’m rendered unsure by the present state of affairs. When … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which the wheel turns

Time is a wheel, speeding me along in ever quicker circuits. As individual moments rush towards me, flare into immediacy and then blur past, most are soon forgotten save for those captured as digital images, or in some dashed lines … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which I capture the present, but forget why

I have always been a compulsive chronicler, ever since I was a small child starting off my first journal. I still write an entry nearly every day, taking a few months to fill in all the pages with my increasingly … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which my lab is a garden

It’s a grey afternoon, the light already fading. R. and I have just done a circuit of the back garden – ‘inspecting the troops’, we call it. The entire space is dishevelled, as it always is this time of year: … Continue reading Continue reading

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In which we fall

Fireworks crackle in the darkness: yesterday’s Bonfire Night stretching to fill the entire weekend. The torrential rains have given way to an almost full moon, glowing cold-silver in the eastern sky. November is always a positive month, with the cosiness … Continue reading Continue reading

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