The dreaded D word

The funny thing about watching what you eat is it means you think about food all the time. Except it’s not funny at all. It’s miserable. I’ve never been one to diet and I don’t weigh myself. Ever. I think it makes you paranoid. I’ve done it a couple of times, for a laugh, like…

Saddle sore

There is something particularly insidious about horsewomen. Thin lipped, flat bottomed, bow legged, hatchet faced: I’ve never met one I liked. There is increasingly a school of thought that women who identify more with animals than human are spectrummy, so perhaps I should be more understanding, but having been at the sharp end of their…

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Perfect days

Jonah chipped his two front teeth – adult – bottom – in a pool accident that left him temporarily shocked into contrite pleasantness for a whole afternoon. Despite this, the last days have to rate as some of the most perfect family days we’ve had for a long time. Finally rested, neck ache subsiding, we…

Abroad

Only in France can you order a salad and be presented, avec the necessary flourish, with a plate of sliced iceberg devoid of dressing. My A-level French temporarily deserting me, I gestured wildly to be surlily handed ready-ground pepper and salt. In a huff, I waltzed up to another’s table and grabbed the oil and…