Dear Watermelon Man, I first notice you as you rise from your awkward position on the beach, sprawled on the sandy wasteland between the two sunloungers occupied by your wife and teenage daughter. I immediately reel at your watermelon-bedecked swim shorts*, their frivolous design incongruous with the solemnity with which you carry yourself. I spot… Continue reading A letter to the Watermelon Man, lost
Made this at last today with unexpectedly good results. Admittedly the concrete shards of frozen banana almost took out my blender, but eventually the dubious mix came together to form a really smooth, creamy texture. Pleasantly surprised! All four of us wolfed it down – genuinely tasted like real ice cream. The honey had, in the words of The xx, crystalised, so we topped it with ‘date nectar’ instead. I would argue this is a better match anyway. Will chuck in a frozen avocado and cocoa powder next time for kicks.
I love TV. There, I’ve said it. If I don’t get 1 undisturbed hour of entertainment of an evening it’s been a bad day. My main squeeze of late has been Series 4 of the ‘Line of Duty’ (that’s ‘Season’ to the under 30’s ) , closely followed behind by Series 1, of which which I had not previously had the pleasure.
You can therefore see what immediately sprung to mind when I did a recce recently to check how many frozen bananas I had stock piled.
One day I’ll actually make Ocado’s peanut butter ‘Ice Cream’ recipe but in the mean time I’ll practise reading it out in the voice of DS Steve Arnott.
Something amazing happened today. I sunbathed! I was starting to wonder whether it warranted being called a holiday...It started with a 3.30am wake-up call to catch our early 4 hour flight, which took 5 due to unfavourable headwinds. The Small One (S1) was harnassed to me throughout, twisting in the orange lasso, whilst I feigned… Continue reading Baring the Bones of my Sole
Having determined the ground rules for paternity leave the first time with explosive consequences (see "Well you know where your perineum is now"), I was optimistic that everything would be different the second time around. Expectations had been lowered. I wasn’t angling for a push-present* or even a gushing Facebook status. I settled into maternity… Continue reading Feel Good Hit of the Summer
At around 6am every day I fall into my deepest slumber. When I have first taken to bed around seven hours earlier, the Small One (S1) clings to me with an unexpected strength, banishing me to the very outer confines of the mattress. My top half is left suspended precariously on the edge of the… Continue reading Uncomfortably Cosy
I learnt a handy new trick in today’s lashing rain. As the buggy veered off its course, buffeted by my struggle to propel it forwards whilst maintaining a dry canopy over my rain-penetrable-parka, and at the same time hold the hand of a meandering toddler, something had to give. Chucking my Cath Kidson umbrella and… Continue reading Peppa Chic
“Hi, I’m on the parent rota today”, I chirp, as I attempt to manoeuvre the triple buggy over Preschool's front step - the Big One’s (B1) BFF is also hitching a ride on the ‘piggyback’ today – his mum rendered housebound after she couldn’t find her keys on the way out. My feet lift clear… Continue reading veni vidi vici
I am unable to write at the moment, too filled with dread at the prospect of tomorrow's calendar entry. I shudder at the thought of the impending 3 hours ahead. Taking my last deep gulp of fresh air, in I will go, surrendering my phone and lifeline, as I cross the threshold into the no… Continue reading The Fear
My sister and I have alternated being pregnant for the past 4 years. Yippee it's her turn at the moment, so she's currently accommodating the dreaded black bin bags of maternity clothes at her house. Now storage is a bit of an issue in most families' homes. So as soon as a garment becomes even… Continue reading Reason #1 not to have a third child
I feel awful. A middle-aged homeless man just knocked on the door wearing spectacles fashioned from milk-bottle-bottoms (not in the hipster fashion), asking for loose change. Usually a small child is to-hand - the perfect excuse to send these types packing. However on this occasion the Big One (B1) is in preschool and the Small… Continue reading Atheist Guilt