So, as you know, my dad is visiting. Well, I say visiting, but I’ve seen him twice since he arrived about two weeks ago. I know he’s not here to see us – we’re incidental. He’s here to see his sister (my aunt). I don’t begrudge him that. It’s not like he’d ever come here just to see us, anyway.  Continue reading


How we lie

Here, an image we all aspire to in one way or another as Christmas approaches. Back then, Norman Rockwell was trying to capture an America that was overlooked. Ironically today, his paintings have become an ideal which people around the world now seek to emulate.

This, despite all the complications that Christmas brings. And by this I mean the clotting together of family, the pooling of genes around minced pies and brandy, roast fowl and sprouts.

After years of sporadic calls from my dad, in which he would drop the non-committal promise of a visit (“Yah, most probably I’ll come that way in December”) my father has done the unthinkable and turned up. Continue reading