2020: My Highlights

So, 2020 eh?

It is my tradition to compile a list of the highlights of my year. It goes without saying that this year has been…different. However, as a couple of introverts without children, who had just acquired a kitten and Disney+, it has to be said that 2020 was relatively kind to us.

But I am keenly aware that for many it was intensely difficult, and there were far fewer highlights than usual. It’s beyond my own modest talents to speak to the tragedies and hardships of this year, but I what I have I give to you: my own particular brand of nonsense.


2015: My Highlights

One of my favourite things about going home for Christmas is reading the family newsletters that Mum gets sent. It’s always a joy to hear what more successful people have been doing with their year.

And this year I wanted to get a piece of the action myself.


A Final List of Things Recently Discovered in My Car

So, the moment is upon us. A moment we all knew would arrive. But none of us wanted to face. It is time to say goodbye to the hallowed vehicle we have come to know, affectionately, as the Mikeyra.

So many memories it has given us. So many lives it has touched. So many adventures. So many words I could say. And I will. But not yet, for there are important rituals to be observed.


A Brief and Wildly Untrue History of Hay Fever

So, the British Summer appears to be upon us in all its half-hearted, muggy glory. Bumbling slowly along with all the grace of a short-sighted giant in stilettos carrying a heavy shopping basket full of insect repellant and sun cream.

Hay fever, in this repulsive train crash of an analogy, is the wart on that giant’s nose, the foul stench of dried sweat emanating from its pores, the head-lice in its sticky hair – an unwelcome parasitic stowaway gleefully making its obnoxious presence known.


An Ode to a Faithful Friend

It has taken me a long time to pluck up the courage to write this blog post. I think, until now, I have been unwilling to face the reality of my loss. Unwilling to admit that it really happened.

You see, it has been 4 months now since I last saw my beloved water bottle. My faithful friend, my constant companion, the source of my life. My confidant, my closest ally. My butler, and my bodyguard.

This post is dedicated to him.


An Ode to Andy Murray

Andy Murray is the Wimbledon champion. He is an Olympic gold medallist and the reigning US Open champion.

He is a hero. He is a fighter. A brave warrior returning with the spoils of war. A triumphant boxer with arms aloft. The victor astride his vanquished foe. He is Muhammad Ali. He is Obi-wan Kenobi. He is Joan of Arc and John McClane.


FAO The Affianced

I don’t know if you have noticed, but everyone is engaged. No, literally everyone. I can barely get through a week of moderate Facebook use without being informed of yet another friend’s betrothal.

I’m not even using hyperbole for effect.*


Harry Potter and the Easily Distressed Reader

I was meant to write a blog post at some point yesterday. Possibly the day before. The details are a little fuzzy. Because I’ve been too busy reading the fifth Harry Potter book, you see.

I know what you’re thinking – how come I’m only just doing this now? Well, it’s not that big a deal. A couple of years ago I looked up what happened on Wikipedia. So I’m really just recapping and fleshing out the details in my head.