I remember sitting on the stone bench by the old mill pond—the one built back in 1842, though the foundations are much older—trying to make sense of the silence after Margaret passed. People tend to offer these polished, expensive little platitudes, as if you can solve a loss by buying a self-help book or attending […]
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I was sitting in the kitchen last Tuesday, looking at a packet of those expensive, store-bought liquid stocks, and I couldn’t help but scoff. They’ve got more salt and stabilizers in them than a coastal road in mid-winter, and they certainly don’t taste of anything real. People seem to think that learning how to make […]
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I was out checking the boundary stones near the old mill yesterday—a fine piece of masonry from about 1840, if memory serves—when I heard that unmistakable, sickening thud of a front tyre hitting something it shouldn’t have. It was Miller, driving his Volvo, looking thoroughly defeated by a crater on the lane that’s been growing […]
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I spent forty minutes yesterday afternoon staring at a pile of rotting vegetable peelings and damp leaves behind my shed, wondering why it looked more like a neglected construction site than a garden asset. Most of the glossy magazines will tell you that you need fancy plastic bins or specific chemical additives to get things […]
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I was sitting in a drafty sitting room in a mid-century conversion near Salisbury last Tuesday, listening to a young couple argue over a stack of legal documents that looked thick enough to stop a bullet. They were terrified, and frankly, they should have been; they were being sold a dream of homeownership while being […]
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I was standing in my back garden last Tuesday, staring up at the old Bramley near the old stone wall—the one I spent three days rebuilding back in ’09—and I realised something. Most people think that if they aren’t being aggressive with the shears, they aren’t doing it right, but that’s a load of nonsense. […]
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I remember standing in the driveway of a lovely 1930s semi in Upper Clatford back in ’98, watching a heavy autumn downpour turn the bottom of the lane into a proper stream. The agent was busy talking about the “characterful features” and the “proximity to the village green,” but I wasn’t looking at the roses; […]
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I was clearing out the old potting shed last Tuesday—the one built back in 1954, mind you, though the roof tiles have seen better days—when I found an old, tattered book on “holistic wellness.” It was full of nonsense about expensive retreats and mindfulness apps that cost a monthly subscription just to breathe properly. It […]
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I was standing by the old stone bridge near the mill—the one built in 1842, mind you, though the foundations are much older—waiting for the 10:15 that was supposed to take me into Salisbury. The rain was doing that fine, soaking thing that gets right under your collar, and as I watched the empty road, […]
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I was clearing out the bottom drawer of the chest freezer in the old cottage last Tuesday—the one built in 1890, which, mind you, has a much better seal than any of these modern plastic rubbish bins—when I found a bag of peas that had turned into a solid, frost-covered brick of nothingness. It’s a […]
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