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University Reunion

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Saturday 28 September 2025

Four decades after arriving at University as an excited 18 year old, I head back for my first ever alumni event.

Well what took me so long? And the answer is, I  really do not know.

Loved University. It had been my dream to go and it was everything and more that I could have hoped for. The best part of it, without question, the wonderful friends I made and still see today. And I suppose that amidst the business of life, a job that invaded most weekends and children to bring up single handed, I just never found the time and energy to race back to Cambridge for a rushed weekend when I already spend much quality time with my favourite folk from the student years.

But now, I am in  a different phase. My children are all grown-up, my job is far more flexible ( and joyously, evenings and weekends have returned to my life.) So,  a weekend in Cambridge with old friends, fine dining and lashings of alcohol? I say, count me in!

I arrive in a small group but even so, am initially a little thrown. Our beloved student bar, with its wooden alcoves and pinball machines is no more. In its place a glossy renovation, not unlike a hotel foyer that leaves me a little cold. Then in mild panic I stare around the room thinking ‘who are all these people?‘ But I am rescued by the genius that is the name tags – to be fair 40 years is a long time and without those badges anyone would struggled to place a few faces – and am soon bus catching up; filling in the gaps of those missing years.

Additionally, it is an action packed schedule. We have a Provost’s Talk, on the state of world order, and are dazzled by the name dropping from top talent at the Wall Street Journal to hobnobbing with Ursula von der Leyen at the UN! By contrast,  Evensong in the Chapel is a pause for calmer  reflection. Here the wonderful choir fill that glorious Gothic building with music, and  beauty and,  for 45 minutes anyway,  the world’s worries melt away and all seems at peace.

But the main event is the dinner and drinks…oh so many drinks. And now the conversation changes from current lives, jobs and children to crazy times from decades ago when we were young and often very foolish. Ill-advised liaisons, the infamous football/netball dinner, the nightmare of mathematics exams and the mystery of the nut cutlet and its collision with an illustrious portrait on the wall of the college dining room. These and many other memories and shared and laughed about and put to rest… I guess until the next time we meet.

Because there will definitely be a next time for me … this has and always will be my happy place…

Small boy’s freshly baked bread …

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Tuesday 29 July 2025

“Mum, what’s for lunch?”

This is my nineteen year old son! I am in the middle of a work meeting and have been up since seven, he is still in his dressing gown and has not looked up from the X-Box screen for the last two hours! It is safe to say that I am not amused.

Making sure I am on meeting-mute, I call back ‘sort yourself out; I am busy‘ and then I return to the day job.

A couple of hours later, I head downstairs for a coffee break and… what a sight greets me! Smallboy still in dressing gown but vigorously kneading bread dough in the kitchen!

“What on earth are you doing?” I half-shriek

Smallboy give me a floury smile, and looking pretty pleased with himself explains

“Well you told me to sort my lunch out, there’s not a lot of food in the fridge, so I decided to make a loaf of bread”

Well there your have it! I can only laugh out loud. It is so typical of my third-born. My theory is that being born last into a house of three under-fives, there was so little attention left that he long ago gave up waiting to parental approval or permission before launching into his latest exploit.

As a tiny toddler, he learned to assemble lego models independently … because everyone else was ‘too busy‘. I often lost him in the large Supermarket near our SouthWest house .. and invariably found him sitting happily in the coin operated trains and planes outside the cafe. Then, of course, there was the building of the basket-ball hoop and … on and on it goes.

In Harper’s Bazaar around the time of the birth of Kate and William’s third child , an article claimed that

You get wiser parents with each kid ….So third-borns grow up with more relaxed boundaries. These are the children most likely to be creative and risk takers.

Well, ‘wiser parents’ or just more pre-occupied ones I’m not so sure? The traits, for the child however, they  definitely fit my son!

It is actually nearly 6pm by the time he has finished his masterpiece. As I have no advice to give, because I have never made bread, I set about putting the rest of our evening meal together. We triumphantly sit down to a feast of freshly baked bread, with cheeses, salad and red wine!

Tomorrow he’s baking again, as he thought that loaf number 1 was ‘a touch too dense‘. Many years of parenting him have taught me that it will just be easier to leave him to it…

Christmas 2024

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Monday 30 December 2024

Sitting with a coffee and one, of many, left over mini-mince pies, it seems the perfect moment to look back at the festive break…

Once all my kids are safely home, despite load upon load of dirty washing and a speeding ticket, courtesy of the variable-speed-lottery of the M5, it ffeels as if Christmas has begun. It means help with the food shop, extra hands for decorations, time-honoured  cheesy festive films and a house full of laughter and companionship again.

And so to the ‘big day’ itself. Much is familiar: guests, food, crackers, games and fizz.

But there are a few new twists. The hot water packs in on Christmas Eve, so it is cold showers for the hard-core (and a bit of festive grime for the rest) throughout the social season.

Most significant of all, there is  an extra pair of hands in the kitchen… the ill-fated Smallboy. Buoyed by the success of some roast potatoes he’d served up for pals at Uni, he begged to join the Christmas cooking crew. But scarcely had we added his name to the spreadsheet … oh yes, you heard me right, I never do the Xmas dinner without microsoft excel … than calamity starts to dog his every culinary move. Half of our usual crispy spuds became an impromptu mash… and the first tray of turkey had to be hurriedly scooped from the floor, whilst we distracted guests with crackers and paper hats.

I also branch out with my desserts, introducing after -dinner-coffee with  a mini mince pie – Ta da!  In my head,  ‘ultra-chic’. In reality, it goes down about as well as last year’s ‘signature cocktails’ … not a single blinkin’ taker! And hence why, with January on the horizon, I am still munching my way through several boxes of the darned festive pastries!

With the cooking done and the board games exhausted we sink happily down to watch the ‘Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special‘ and my oh my it does no disappoint. I mean. if you were not misty eyed as Mick stands up at the wedding ceremony and up on your feet cheering as the entire cast race to Portsmouth,,, quite frankly, what is wrong with you?

And so the sun sets on another spell of festive cheer. Smith and Ness are married, me and my kids have been re-united. For now, at least, all is well with the world…