Monumental Stuff

Realisations: I own a seventeen year-old. Boy Seymour has now left primary school. Sh!t the bed. How does this kind of thing happen? One minute I am embarking on the adventure that is adulthood, whereby I am applying for mortgages and getting used to being called Mrs something. The next, Read more

What would Winston do?

Boris, please! I know you have a gargantuan task ahead. I do. I don’t envy your responsibilities right now, I don’t. But seriously now. Seriously. Be brave. Let us out. I swear to God, this LOCKDOWN is killing us. Our teenagers, our little ones, our cancer patients, our mentally vulnerable. Read more