The view from my hammock this afternoon:





The best part? You can't see the rest of the garden from my hammock, which is good because it looks like a building site.

The worst part? When the garden is finished, I won't be able to have my hammock there anymore...

I was on the phone to someone trying to sell me something at work today. She was desperately attempting to convince me that she wasn't selling anything. I wasn't buying it, both literally and figuratively.

Her parting shot was the almost nonsensical double-negative: "So you're not looking to save no money at all?"

Er, no. No I am not.

Isabel is trying to shut the lid of the trunk she keeps her craft stuff in.

Izzy: It won't shut!
Mattgreen: There must be something stuck in it.
Izzy: There's not.
Mattgreen: Oh - oh right! Well it must be magic then.
Izzy: I can't shut it!
Mattgreen: (sarcastically)To misquote Sherlock Holmes, "once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever's left ... must be magic".

Mattgreen looks at it. There's a pad of paper stuck in the lid. He removes it. The lid closes.

Izzy: I didn't see it.
Mattgreen: Wow! MAGIC!
Izzy: I didn't see it.
Mattgreen: You didn't even look at it properly, that's why.
Izzy: I Did Not SEE IT!
Alicey: (calling from the kitchen) Did you see it?
Izzy: NO! I just said I DID NOT SEE IT!! ARRRGGHHH!

Tonight I finally burned my teenage diaries.



For a while now I've been going to a comedy night in London called Cringe. It involves reading out your teenage diaries to a roomful of strangers. It's really a lot funnier than you might think.

I've read at about half a dozen events now and it's been hilarious.

Last weekend Matt was talking to one of our friends about Cringe and she said, utterly without remorse, "I burned all my diaries years ago".

I'd got to the stage where I had nothing left to read at Cringe. I've plundered every bit of humour from my seven volumes (1990 to 1997). All that was left was the really depressing bits, the bits where I was lonely and heartbroken and pathetic. Nobody needs to hear that shit and I can't bring myself to laugh about it, even now.



So, this Wednesday, I read one last time. It was funny. Everyone laughed.
Then tonight I went up in the loft, got down all my books and took them out in the garden and set fire to them. I didn't even flick through them. I didn't save anything. I just burned the lot.

Part of this is because I don't want Isabel to ever find them and read them. Part of it is to say goodbye to a chapter of my life that wasn't entirely happy. And part of it is finally accepting that it's time to move on. To my surprise, I didn't feel any regret at all.

Good riddance, 1990 to 1997! Here's to the future xxx

Each year, before Father's Day, I ask my mother for some ideas what my father might like. As well as the usual drivel like socks and ties, he usually wants some crazy and totally un-gift like gift.

That's what I buy him.
Last year, he wanted a plastic car boot mat.

This year... I was giggling away to myself when Mattgreen walked in.

Mattgreen: What are you laughing at?
Me: My dad's father's day present.
Mattgreen: Well it can't be any worse than last year's.
Me: Oh yes. Yes it can.
Mattgreen: WTF?
Me: Come and see!

Why yes. It really is a stick-on wing mirror for a bike helmet. Oh yeah baby.

When I was young I was an avid reader, and as a result there are a number of words I pronounce the way they look. It's especially a problem with uncommon words. I'm not quite sure what I was referring to in this conversation but it's not important.

Me: She's a sha mee lee on!
Mattgreen: You mean a ka mee lee on.
Me: No, a sha mee lee on. You know, like in the famous song. (sings) "Karma karma karma karma karma sha mee lee on!"
Mattgreen: (looks at me incredulously) NO. IT'S KA MEE LEE ON. Have you never heard that song?
Me: Well I must admit I'm not that well versed in Duran Duran.