the adlards

It has been a real pleasure coming home to the Three this weekend …

A post I wrote on the train from Gatwick but haven’t had a chance to post …

Doesn’t look it though, does it? I made some time today to sit and watch it for a while, which was a treat …

Something’s up with my body clock. I didn’t set an alarm last night because I decided I probably need some sleep but I woke, wide-eyed, at 6.30 – 5.30 UK time …

Two things struck me tonight. One when walking in the garden of the beautiful restaurant where I had dinner; the other just as I put half my imaginary cash onto the blackjack table later in the evening …

On a good straight the throaty roar of the engine is like a whole herd of hungry lions at the thought of a good English breakfast …

Three or four thousand IT people have decended on Cannes like the tide and I’ve been swept along with them …

Today, spurred on by visions of Michelle being towed across the windy sky behind Phil & Ted’s most excellent with two small children in it …

There’s something magical about the first Monday after the clocks go back. When everyone pours onto the streets of London into the pitch dark after work there are sparkles in eyes because it feels unexpectedly like a still winter’s evening just before snow …

We had a an unseasonal bright, sunny morning at wake-up time today; of course we were all up in the dim one hour before that, infant body clocks being what they are. Mean time also means it’ll be dark in a couple of hours from now and I’ll be returning from work this week at the sensory equivalent of midnight …