There are few sounds as disturbing, on a fundamentally primal level, as a cat throwing up next to the bed at 2.30 in the morning. The whole process, from wet-gagging-start to fetid-stench-end seems to touch a nerve of such deep abhorrence that it would, I suggest, be akin to having to shake hands with Piers …
Continue reading "Parenting a toddler? You better be a polymath."
I remember once having to sit through a two hour seminar on change management in schools given by a consultant who was earning far more than I was. To be fair, the guy did a pretty decent job of speaking much and saying little. I think most people attend these kinds of training events with …
I've always had what I felt was a sensible mistrust of people who can order the world into 'correct' and 'incorrect'. To me, that is the way of the extremist: "difference is bad, my way is good, kill those who oppose". As such, I am wary of mathematicians - or as I like to call …
In Haruki Murakami's short story Sleep the female protagonist suffers a bout of insomnia that lasts for weeks. Rather than crippling her with fatigue she finds strength in her nocturnal existence, realising that she has become a crushing stereotype of the Japanese housewife; dutifully making love to her dull, dentist husband, refusing alcohol because he didn't …
London, 1940. The wail of air-raid sirens signals another attack by the Luftwaffe. The screaming noise is punctuated by the dull percussive thud of bombs. Just on the edge of hearing the angry bee-swarm-hum of propeller engines provide a droning bass note; ceaselessly framing the other sounds in hateful monotone. Nights are spent lying in …
I remember driving home one night from town along the Srinakarin road - a major thoroughfare running south away from Bangkok towards Samut Prakan. It was a few days before my first child was born and we'd been out with friends, enjoying zesty Thai curries and sipping soft drinks whilst our companions got stuck into …
One of the absolute joys of living in Thailand is how much the Thai people adore kids, especially blonde-haired farang toddlers. Apart from the innate sense of paternal pride at watching your youngster being doted on by numerous people it has a number of benefits. Firstly, for a brief moment in time the boy is preoccupied with …
Time is often described by Buddhists and fantasy writers of a certain stripe as being a wheel. A constant, unending revolving reel of events that, whilst discrete, are connected. One leads inexorably to another. The other is shaped by the first. And so on, and so on. That which was will be. That which …
My son is a social bean. He gets it from his mother. Not me at all. I'm not social. I hate people. Even you. Anyway, as his voice and gestures become more developed he has improved his ability to make people aware of him. Unsuspecting members of the public will be yelled at, given a …
We are in preparation mode for what may well be the most challenging thing we, as parents, have had to deal with. Flying long haul. For 12 hours. With a toddler. The last time we flew with the boy it was a short hop down to Koh Lanta to attend the wedding of our friends. …
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