Tag: memoirblog
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116: NAME-DROP-O-RAMA!!
I’m driving Annie to school, through the West Midlands countryside. My daughter, as is her wont, isn’t paying me the slightest bit of attention. Instead, she’s focused on her iPhone… updating a playlist on Spotify and playing the tastiest morsels from it on my car stereo. Annie’s musical tastes are eclectic and multi-era-spanning. She listens…
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112: BED RAIL
Lizzie and I are changing the sheets on our bed. That hardly sounds newsworthy in itself… except these days we don’t change the sheets as often as we used to (when Lizzie was ill) and I’m going to have to come clean (sorry for the pun)… they’re not exactly looking pristinely white. Maybe I’ve been…
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107: CHOCOLATES
It’s Valentine’s Day. The first Valentine’s Day since Lizzie got the all-clear from her cancer. And… … unfortunately… … it’s crap. I can tell things are getting off to a bad start, when I present Lizzie with her card and box of chocolates. The card goes down OK. After all, it’s a Valentine’s card. As…
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106: LONG ENCOUNTER
I’m on the train from London Paddington to Honeybourne station – fifteen minutes drive from home. I had to catch the 20.50 from Paddington, as my usual train – the 19.50 – no longer appears to be scheduled. I guess that trains which take people away from London – as opposed to into it –…
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104: COMEDIAN
I’m in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher… whilst hungrily eyeing the delicious supper Lizzie’s left out on the hob (which she and the kids have already tucked into). I figure, if I look industrious – doing the dishwasher – Lizzie won’t mind me also tucking into the delicious supper… even though it’s yet another meal…
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96: SICK
I’m talking to Lizzie and Annie in the living room. We’re all recovering from a twenty-four hour stomach bug, which has seen Annie off school the last few days. I felt pretty dizzy and nauseous last night, but today I seem to be OK again. Annie, on the other hand, is really milking the fact…
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95: SCUTTLE F***ERY!
Lizzie took these photos of a spider in our house, lurking on a doorframe. Is it waiting to drop on our heads as we walk through? Probably. Maybe this is why we don’t get many visitors (apart from spiders). Click here for main blog page
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94: BEER FEAR
We’re on the train back home, the Sunday after Lizzie’s London party, and I’m mingingly hungover. I want to loll my head over and put it on Lizzie’s shoulder, but I know she’ll never let me. She doesn’t go for heads-on-shoulders kinds of poses. Of course, I have beer fear: alcohol-fuelled-paranoia about what kind of…