Topic: #Column

The rhythmic, plastic rattle of the seven-day pill organiser is the sound that signals the end of your youth...

We were on the Isle of Wight when the moon decided to drift in the way of the sun. It was bloody amazing to see...

A few notes on the tricky subject of mental health...

Thought experiments for ordinary people...

Chocolate just isn't what it used to be...

Days on the beach and the resulting sunburn...

Childhood seaside memories and their usefulness in adulthood...

Our young folk are struggling but it's not a new thing for young people to be finding things hard...

I'm not a snob. It’s simply that I wouldn’t do anything to draw attention to myself when out and about. Unlike the lady that came storming into the local pharmacy that morning...

Our new PM has had a holiday after two weeks in the job. Not ideal...

The battle for fitness in your sixites...

On the importance of a balanced perspective when life gets... you know... mad.

A reflection on the British obsession with declaring a national crisis every time the temperature rises above twenty-five degrees.

We have traded the slow, deliberate craft of conversation in favour of the rapid exchange of functional digital signals.

Why do we let glowing rectangles dictate the rhythm of our lives?

The Monday dread begins on Sunday, usually after lunch...

Napping is an underrated art form. Especially when combined with a bad night's sleep...

On the current state of British rail travel. Or rather, the lack of it.

On the Great Coffee Machine Swindle.

On the questionable decision to go jogging at the age of sixty-one.

An examination of the Sisyphean struggle of the modern blogger.