At 6’5″ tall, it is apparent that Usain Bolt has a stride length much greater than that of the average sprinter. This seems a bit unfair to me, so I’m thinking that what we should do is chop a couple of inches off his legs. Oh, too harsh? Ok, well, what if we hobble him?… Continue reading Do we really want ordinary Champions?
Like many teachers in inner-city schools, I am definitely the owner of an over-developed-do-gooder-bone. For years I had thought that the only way to keep it exercised was to work with children from challenging backgrounds, and give them the investment and energy that was lacking in their life from any other source. With the arrival… Continue reading What’s the point?
As a virtuoso pedlar of intimacy-at-a-distance, that strange phenomenon when a complete stranger writes something that makes you feel as though they have set up camp in your head, Daisy Buchanan describes it as, “I sometimes feel as though I’m trying to start a choir. I’ll describe a situation that has made me feel small, scared or stupid, reasoning… Continue reading A voice in the chorus
I cried the other day. And it was a strange thing. I didn’t cry because I was sad, I didn’t cry because anyone has betrayed me, or left me when I so wanted them to stay. I cried because I read something that made the tears well up in my eyes and a lump grow… Continue reading The Ugly Cry
Like every parent I know, there are things that I never seem to learn but, in the interests of sanity, really really need to. More haste, less speed? True every time I’m running late and try to strap the BSCB in the buggy with one hand, while putting on my Nikes with the other. Always… Continue reading When will I learn?
When I had my daughter in 2012 there was funk all out there that spoke to how I felt about motherhood. The loss of identity, the guilt about wanting something that was just about me, the mind-numbing boredom of spending time with a small person whose conversation skills were akin to a snail’s – all slime… Continue reading P.M.A
And another one bites the dust. The stand-down of Andrea Leadsom from the Tory party leadership race yesterday means that even the vaguely substantial, slimly qualified prospects for the leadership of the party, and that small matter of steering the country from The Edge of Oblivion, have been filtered down to precisely one. If it… Continue reading No ifs, no buts, your uterus don’t mean f**k