Wait until next year

Putting off what could be done tomorrow, today

Tag: London

Woolwich

Sign pointing to Woolwich

Woolwich will always be close to my heart. I was born there. I got married there. I remember going shopping there as a kid, going to the cinema there as a teenager, passing through it countless times as an adult. The events yesterday were shocking, appalling. My thoughts are with everyone affected. Read the rest of this entry »

Beavertown and The Great Escape

Beavertown Brewery banner

The finest pint is the earned pint. After a proper day’s work there are few things better than that first sip of beer. Now, as something of a desk jockey by trade I don’t really have many days that genuinely deserve a drink of that nature as I’m not exactly physically exerting myself as I write reports/complete spreadsheets/answer dumb questions from colleagues/stare at a screen. Read the rest of this entry »

Quick and Not-Particularly-Good Booze Reviews

Three bottles of beer

A night in with some craft beer and I figured I’d record a few thoughts whilst still under the influence. Obviously, I am a sensible drinker, so this isn’t as reckless as you might think. I am well aware that heavy drinking and posting stuff on the internet is not a great mix. I’m sure none of you need me getting all tired and emotional on you all, telling you I love you and miss you all very much. Read the rest of this entry »

Neither here nor there

Aerial view of housing

The town I have moved to does not exist. Well, not officially, anyway. I mean, you can find road signs directing you there and if you stopped someone in the street to ask them where exactly you were they could tell you, but it isn’t a real place. You see, the post office does not recognise the town, instead allocating two different postcodes to the town, attached to two neighbouring towns. So, at least in the eyes of the post office, it isn’t an official place. Read the rest of this entry »

You can’t go home again

Yesterday, after a rather protracted move, we finally closed the door on our old flat, home for the past four and a half years. Seeing it empty, it was clearer than ever that we’d made the right decision to leave. The rattling windows letting in the sounds and the dirt from the main road outside. The peeling wallpaper. The localised damp. The old kitchen units, about to fall apart. While all these were minor issues, they all added up, especially when you have a letting agent and landlord with no interest in remedying any of it. Read the rest of this entry »

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