I threw myself out of bed last night. I can’t recommend it. I had been dreaming about a comedienne who did a great routine (well done Aisling), then she introduced a two-piece singing group who were singing a lovely song that I was sure I had heard before. I was chatting to a man with a strong West Indian accent about the music when, as so often happens, crocodile-shaped space aliens descended en masse and tried to eat us all. I attempted to twist out of the way of one…and ended up on the floor, via the handles of my


Nice day. England won the cricket; I cleaned the living room while they did so, so I feel good about that; dogs had a marvellous meet-up with friends as always. So let’s think about a tiny speck that rubs under my psyche all too often. Are other people having a better time than me ? When I’m chatting to people with whom I am friendly (that’s as much as I’m usually willing to say) I hear them talk about times in recent days when they have met up with others I know. Clearly I have no reasonable expectation to be

I feel very “manly”, if that’s a thing any more these days. Why ? Because I FIXED something. I have these things called MegaFlares. You put them on the road if you break down or have an accident, and they flash very bright LEDs to warn other drivers. They can be driven over, they float, they’re magnetic…useful thing. They’re also a luxury. So when they stop working, I don’t replace them any more. But then I had an idea… The most likely malfunction seemed to me to be that the batteries were so old they wouldn’t hold a charge any


Well, blogging later in the day isn’t going too well, is it ? I either don’t remember, or am ill-inclined, and it gets forgotten. So here I am, lying in bed on a Saturday morning, and I should use this little window. My standard Saturday morning is a good thing. Despite having a lot of control over my timings in the week, I seem to arrange a lot of tasks that get me going early. Maybe that’s deliberate to make sure I get stuff done, but I do set a lot of alarms to grumble at. Saturday mornings are relaxed,

If I want this blog to be useful, I need to document my highs and my lows. I know that I have had a couple of low thoughts over the last couple of days (I mean not so cheery, nothing worse than that) but I also felt those were transitory. I don’t want to give them unnecessary focus by sitting and writing a blog post about them, if they are nothing more than a passing “I wish SHE was my wife…” kind of thing when Emily Blunt is on TV. Because that’s just silly. Don’t worry – I’m sure the

Actually, that’s a rubbish title, because that is a pointless task whereas my organisation has sort of worked out. Kind of. If you take a big-picture approach. Yesterday should have been the car wash thing but a panicked message at 6:30 before a weaselly phone call at 7 am made it clear the guy was expecting to have my car for an entire day just to give it a wash. Even I have too busy a schedule for that. So all things being equal the car will be seen to tomorrow morning (Thursday). I have been very mature and grown-up

And you thought grey industrial premises in my town were mundane places of work. No ! They are places of mind-bending spacetime-defying mystery. I know this because the tyre for my 8:30 fitting appointment is not due to arrive until noon. For the system to have booked this appointment can only mean they have access to some form of wormhole capability and plan to address the locking wheel-nuts through that. Fortunately, given my run-flat tyres and the compressor I bought on a whim from CostCo, I can get to my morning obligations of dog walks and IT shenanigans.

At 1:30, it didn’t look good. Well to me, at least. I opened the door to show my dogs the hooning rain that was pouring in sheets past the threshold but Winston just trotted out into it and looked hopeful. Fortunately, in this country strong weather doesn’t tend to last very long. By 2 pm I was in position and a small but keen group of dogs had formed. We ranged from the giant to the tiny, from my nearly 12 year-old, to an only 15 week-old. A good time was had by all in their own way. Some chased

Don’t panic ! This post is not as dark as the title suggests. When I was a child, I had many dreams, and some nightmares. My dad (who was a character) talked to me about dreams and explained that the worst never actually happens. For example, you never actually die. You may think you are going to, you may head towards the big crash…but the dream ends just before the crucial moment. OF course being “my dad” he explained that the moment you actually do dream of death then you have actually died and it is all over. Sleep well,