In an assembly last week (I still go to school, don’t forget) I was staring at a big screen on which was displayed a photograph of ancient deeds dating back to 1614. Our school is old, man! I have seen this slide numerous times in recent years, and as someone Read more
What are these kids doing? Yes, it has happened. I have got old. After years of clinging on to some notion that I may still be “with it”, I must admit defeat. Why? Social fu@#ing media of course. I understand the reason for certain Whatsapp groups. I like some of Read more
I have no idea where to begin with a post, after so long without one. I could write about my current obsession with sea gardens. I should write a list of all the unfinished projects at the the current Funny Little Bungalow. I could regale you with Boy Seymour’s daredevil Read more
I have reached the stage in my children’s lives where they mind most of the things I do. Well, to put it more precisely, some of them (one of them in particular) mind all of the things I do, and I am bound by the fact that, because of this, Read more
A couple of weeks ago, my mother had a big birthday celebration in our garden. This celebration has been over a year in the planning, conceived as an idea back when May 2024 felt like an age away, and when the plan was first mooted, it provided a much-needed focus Read more
Boy Seymour has been meddling. He meddles with lots of things: cupboards with food in, bicycles, TV remotes, and more recently – my hairdryer. This is a new development, prompted by fashion, I believe. Boy carves things up, smashes things down, walks into stuff and leaves debris in his wake. Read more
I think I have mentioned here before that I think I must be a witch. Eerie things happen often in my life, good eerie things, but eerie things nonetheless. And I am more than happy to be a bit witchy, because now is a good time to make such a Read more
Eight years ago today, a standard sized pack of Original Pringles cost a mere 75p. This is no guess, nor is it an estimate. It isn’t a rose-tinted, warped idealist recollection, either. It is a FACT. I know this because Facebook thrust me a photo memory this morning, showing a Read more
Little Seymour Number One went to an audition when she was about seven, for a small part in a local church’s nativity-cum-pantomine extravaganza. Grandma took her along, because Grandma’s friend was running the show, and when Number One returned home that afternoon, Grandma declared her surprise: Little Seymour Number One Read more
The Four Little Seymours are not bad kids. OK, they have their faults, like we all do. A lot of the faults are tech-related, or revision-related – you, know, the usual kind of stuff. Luckily, we are yet to experience the horrors of narcotics, or the “Can my boyfriend stay Read more