The hindu goddess of wealth gave me a wax today. Well she was called Lakshmi. But she should have been called Vishnu after the God of destruction. When I was lying there on the flowery tablecloth, the line Samuel L. says in Jackie Brown (?) sprang to mind – ‘I’m going to get medieval on …
Baby, baby. Everywhere we go it’s to a chorus of Baby, Baby. It makes me feel like an extra in dirty dancing. Like I need to be carrying a watermelon with me wherever I go and then maybe someone will tell John not to put me in the corner. I digress – that’s my thirteen …
‘What did the lady want?’ ‘She wanted money. Why? ‘Because some people don’t have any money.’ ‘Well why didn’t you give her some mummy?’ Alula has been in Mumbai less than 20 hours and it’s not the heat or the noise or the smells that have blown her away. It’s the dresses. She doesn’t see …
The Tupperware of crabs is warm in my hand. I am warm in the taxi. It is nearly midnight and the taxi (fecking surprise here) is lost. So lost that I think I might just try looking for the hatch and perhaps Sawyer to keep me company. I am sick of taxi drivers waggling their …
It’s my first stop. And although I’m missing a fundamental part of my family (that would be my husband and daughter) I think I’ve found us a home (not like an actual house – that would be getting ahead of myself). I mean a place I think we could call home for say, three months …
I was watching Eastenders yesterday and between that and the snow it seems obvious that the reasons are lining up to remind me why we are leaving. Like an image of the Virgin Mary appearing in a potato. An unexpected reminder to keep the faith because our next life is going to be nothing short …
‘Where’s daddy going?’ ‘To work.’ Lula looks long and hard at Clock House station. ‘There?’ ‘Well he gets the train from there. Like I do… Did.’ Ha. ‘What do you do at work?’ ‘Er. Well…’ I have to think hard, the memories are already fuzzy, ‘Have meetings. Write things.’ And that’s about it. I can’t …
‘I want a magazine!’ She demands as soon as we swish through the doors of Sainsburys. I push on past the cbeebies magazines with their cellophaned child magnet landfill toys. ‘I want a lemon,’ she says next pointing at the melons. ‘I want moreganix!,’ she says whilst trying to grab six pink packets of Organix in her arms as …
Right that’s it. We can never come back. And not just because we’ve rented the house indefinitely and gone and resigned. Nor because the tories are about to come to power and I am standing on principle (because lets face it I don’t have many of those). No. We can’t come back because Lula in …
‘They’re moving into our house so you can buy me percy pigs.’ I love Lula’s mind – her reductive view of the world. I wish life was really that simple. I wish I could spend £1300 a month on percy pigs but that wouldn’t simplify things it would only complicate them – I’d be unable …
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