I sent the text at 6.30, when (according to his schedule) he should've been an hour into his ninety-minute journey home. 'Hey, where are you?' I hate sending that text - the studied casualness of it, the fact that I'm too tired even to put a smiley face on the end. Wherever he is, … Continue reading Marriage and the Magic Question: Who’s Doing the Work?
I am married to a Womble. When he sees litter, he has to pick it up until he finds a bin. He can't help it. Today, a nice collection of beer cans. Prospect Park on a sunny evening is the perfect place for TJ to work off his hiccups. I hope he likes it, because … Continue reading Parklife (25 + 6)