I know baby photographs don’t necessarily travel well in cyberspace, but I do think this picture of my nephew with his mum and dad is lovely. He has, unfortunately, inherited his father’s ears. Which Joe, in turn, inherited from his dad. Luckily, mine are perfect…
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Rejecting a False Choice
I don’t often write directly about local political issues. When I do, I think it is important to be clear that these are my own personal reflections as an Oxfordshire resident. They do not represent the views of any organisation I lead or support, nor of any of the civic offices I am privileged to…
Mortgage Free at Last
This morning, I made my final mortgage payment to the bank. For the first time since 1985 – forty years ago – I am mortgage debt free. It all began with a three-bedroom former council house in Lichfield, where I’d just started teaching at Chadsmead Junior School. The house cost £20,000 – just shy of…
Back to the ‘70s…
A friend posted on my Facebook timeline the other day, “First you believe in Father Christmas; then you are Father Christmas; then you look like Father Christmas.” I am currently entering that third phase, even if I’m not as hirsute as the big man himself. But I am certainly getting older. I know this because…
