Last weekend I went to North London with my boy Silas, to help my daughter Eddie move back to South London. And this was a Very Significant Thing. Not just because it involved a van and pizza, and a day with my guys, although all those things were perfectly lovely. No. It was significant principally …
My Dad was a Coventry man. So was his dad, and his dad, my great-grandfather, the gloriously named Herbert Harry Harris. There are fewer Coventry Harrises now (hello, Uncle Mike) but when I was a boy there were plenty and we went there often. My memories of early childhood visits to Coventry, are mostly like …
My desk supports a whole, incoherent museum of treasures that are important to me. There are model cars from my boyhood; my Dad’s pen; sundry rocks; a leather tray from Wyoming. None of it ostensibly makes sense but all of it means something. Now, in September, my sister-in-law, Mandy and her grownup children, Adam and …
It used to be the case that our house was full of unaccountable noise. In the night, there were bangings and crashings. Doors opening and closing with tremendous force. Whispering voices in the small hours, then howls and sudden bursts of cackling laughter. It was like living in a horror movie and it was, frankly, …
For a long time now, I have hoarded toothpaste. By this, I don’t mean that in these straitened times I have panic-bought huge stocks hoping to make a killing on the dental hygiene black market. Rather, I have kept my own tube of toothpaste hidden away in the bathroom cupboard, so I don’t have to …
When I was a little boy, my parents threw a party. This being the early 70s, and my parents being sophisticated, modern people, this involved many small bowls of salted peanuts. Because in the 70s, along with cheese and pineapple on sticks, the salted peanut gave any social gathering a certain je-ne-sais-quoi, an indefinable air …
I’ve been back from my holiday less than 24 hours and, weirdly, I’m already having trouble remembering exactly what happened. I know that sounds ridiculous but it’s really hard to get an overall sense of the thing. We stayed with our friend Isa and her family in Laramie, Wyoming, but instead of a sweeping cinematic …
Singleness, paradoxically, is not a single thing. There are varieties of singleness. Once upon a time in the olden days, for example, everybody seemed to have an unmarried maiden aunt. My maiden aunt was Auntie Grace. Grace Moore was born when Queen Victoria was still alive and lived to be 93. Once, many years ago, …
Some families are born of Kings: Danny Dyer’s, for example. Some are born of D-Day heroes. Mine, on the other hand, is born of ditch-diggers and shoemakers. Nevertheless, even ordinary families have their legends. And there's a legend in our family that I ruined my brother’s life. But this isn't a story about me tying …
A couple of weeks ago I had to use up my last couple of days of annual leave so I went up to the Lake District to camp and walk by myself. There were two reasons for going. One was for the sublime pleasure of those hills in Autumn. But the other was that I …