On Sunday, as I drove Little Seymour Number One to her play rehearsal, I noticed a vacancy for a scaffolder, advertised outside a local builder’s yard. Hmmm, I thought. For a very brief moment, I could see myself in a hard hat, masterfully and cheerfully erecting poles and planks with Read more
As I look around me, at the muddle that is my house, I struggle to understand just why it is that I cannot stick to the plan I have every week, and that is to simply clear stuff out. I’ve definitely become worse at this. I swear I never used Read more
It has been Half Term. I love Half Term. It is wonderful to be oblivious to the time, and not chase about as I do, like a blithering idiot during the craziness of term-time frolics. There is only one problem with Half Term that I can see. And that is Read more
I’ve had it easy over the last few weeks. Big Seymour has been in a kind of brief hibernation from all things building-related, during which he hasn’t really done much to the Funny Little Bungalow. But now, I see a stony glint in his eye and I know that he’s Read more
There’s a lot of surplus stuff in the world. You only have to look at any suburban British street on bin day to notice that people throw so much away. I can’t bear to think about it, especially as I’m as guilty as the next person. When Little Seymour Number Read more
If the truth be told, I think I’m a bit of a snob. But before I go on, I’d better quickly google the actual definition of “snob”, just to be sure. “…a person who believes there is a correlation between social status and human worth.” Oh. Snobs are aren’t very Read more
The poor Four Little Seymours. I do feel for them. Their mother is an emotional, sentimental idiot, and should probably be incarcerated. Last week, strange things happened. The stars must have been moving in some kind of mischievous alignment because the culmination of the week was me, dragging my poor Read more
Some years ago, before we had found the Funny Little Bungalow, my brother, who shall hereby be referred to as Uncle Bacon Nose, came to our house on a Friday evening for a DVD night. He’d often suggest such entertainment, and would frequently supply the all-important DVD, chosen on the Read more
It is January. The Funny Little Bungalow doesn’t look its best in January. I think we have already established that. There are piles of bricks on the rubble-covered driveway. There’s ancient, rickety scaffolding adorning the perimeter. Mould grows in abundance on the interior walls, and the cobwebs have started to Read more
Tomorrow, the Funny Little Bungalow shall make its television debut. And, as excited as I am about the prospect, I am also acutely aware that this building is not going to be viewed in the way that we see it; to us it’s home. To others? Some kind of godawful Read more