Monthly Archives: July 2012
â€œIf I were an Olympianâ€ said Ian, â€œI would be a swimmer. Not because Iâ€™m good at swimming, but because they have the best Olympics. Theyâ€™re all done by the end of the first week and then they can slut … Continue reading
My friend Euan is in the Olympics. Not as a sprinter, gymnast or wrestler, but as an Industrial Revolutionary Worker. â€œLook out for me. Iâ€™m the one wearing a white-ish shirt, standing near a big machine, sort of near the … Continue reading
It was Hilaryâ€™s idea to go to the urban farm. Sandwiched between a mental hospital and the East river. â€œIf it’s true, we should go and see it.” So we headed off through midtown in the scorching heat of a … Continue reading
As Jon and I walked through the urban wasteland of Gowanus Brooklyn, looking for a disused canning factory, we had to wonder; had we fallen into a Hipster trap?
NYC is a city of contrasts. This week, for example my very brave friend Jess made something of a public declaration of hope on her blog. Not entirely out of the blue, you understand, but because she has met a … Continue reading
Do you ever find yourself looking at an apple and thinking: youâ€™re too perfect to be a real apple, you look like the apple in Snow White? Or at a pineapple and thinking: should I eat you, or would Chiquita … Continue reading
Driving towards the beach Jon spotted the farm shop. â€œWho fancies an ice cream?â€ he said, somewhat rhetorically. So we pulled up and went inside. It was one of those fancy farm shops that rinses the dirt off the kale, … Continue reading
We were out watching whales. Far too early in the morning, somewhere off the coast of Gloucester, scanning the horizon for spouts of air, or the flash of a tail, or a body breaching out of the water.
Sometimes we drink to help us forget, and sometimes, we forget before we even drink.
I was a reluctant camper as a child. Bugs, rain, sleeping on the ground â€“ not really my scene. On my return from my first guide camp I sat on the bathroom floor sobbing as ants marched out of my … Continue reading