Tag: countrylife
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130: DEODORANT
‘Do you have any deodorant I can borrow?’ I ask Lizzie, as we both empty the dishwasher in the kitchen. ‘I’ve run out.’ It’s about ten a.m., on a midsummer morning. It’s sunny and warm and – deodorant-less as I am – I’m worried my armpits might start getting smelly soon. ‘I don’t use deodorant…
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129: GRAVEYARD WEE
Lizzie and I are wading through the long grass of Bunton Church’s graveyard, accompanied by our dog Cedric*. For some reason, Lizzie’s let the hellhound off the lead… and he’s running about hither and thither over the graves, like a ginger, malevolent version of Greyfriars Bobby. ‘Don’t let him wee on the graves!’ I squawk…
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127: ADVERTS
I’m sitting in the living room, with Lizzie and the kids. We’re all together… in person, but not in spirit. In fact, each of us is on a device, completely ignoring the others. In my case, I’m perusing Facebook on my laptop. ‘Oh my God!’ I suddenly exclaim. ‘Now that I’m fifty, I keep on…
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PAUSE, UNPAUSE
Hey! Time for a quick pause. So, with the previous post (125: One Year Later), we’ve reached another milestone and turning point in the story of ‘Stop Telling Me I’m Brave’ (do please have a read, if you haven’t already). That being the case, I thought now might be a good time to say… thank…
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125: ONE YEAR LATER
I’m in the office, doing my shit-shovelling film production job in London. It’s 7.30pm. I wanted to leave an hour earlier, but there’s just so much shit to shovel today. Suddenly my mobile rings… it’s Lizzie. A couple of days ago, before I left for London, Lizzie told me how she has an appointment with…
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123: HAY
It’s Saturday morning and Lizzie and I are doing jobs in the kitchen. Things are a little tense, because they always are on a Saturday morning. This is because Lizzie always wants to kick off the weekend with an epic crusade of catching up with chores. Whereas the only epic thing I want to do…
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122: THE MYSTERY OF THE MISSING KEY
I’ve lost my car key. Actually, I say I’ve lost my car key. But the evidence that it was actually me who lost it is inconclusive. On one hand, it nearly always is me who loses things like car keys, in our household. I’m a little absent-minded, to say the least. On the other hand,…
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121: BURNT
The family are away this weekend… … and here’s a potent reminder of why (some) dads should never be left to look after themselves. In case you were wondering, this was a pizza. The laziest form of food to cook yourself. And I still managed to fuck it up. ‘Cowpat?’ asks a friend, when I…
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120: PARP
It’s the next day and I’ve just arrived at the open mike event – for local authors – at our nearest town’s literary festival. The time is 7.30pm… and the event appears to have started earlier than advertised on the ticket. When I walk into the room (which is in a chain hotel near the…
P. D. Clifton 