The Four Motorists of the Apocalypse

4 horsemen

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by Viktor Vasnetsov, 1887

There before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest… Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other…There before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand…There before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death”

Extracts from Revelation, Chapter 6 (NIV)

 

In a high-end car showroom somewhere in outer London, the glass door of the manager’s office swings open. Continue reading

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Playing out – it still rocks

Afterwards

It’s been a miserable winter for our monthly play street sessions, with a couple cancelled due to the weather and another when the kids only lasted outdoors for an hour. We also wondered if, weather aside, playing out on our street might be ‘running out of steam’, as one neighbour put it. Those of us who had young kids when it started in earnest four years ago now have kids who have grown out of it, or are just about to. Continue reading

Kids, actually

I’m relatively new to Twitter, and most of my tweets get (and deserve) very little attention. I’m happy if I get a handful of likes, and retweets are unexpected. But a couple of my recent tweets have gone out of control.

This one was retweeted over 240 times:

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Why I’m riding in the middle of the bloody road

THAT FEELING when you get to have the conversation you’ve rehearsed in your head a dozen times 🙂

I was cycling on a narrow residential road and the usual thing happened. When I say usual, this takes place roughly every second or third time I cycle on this particular street, a rat run that’s part of my route home from school. A driver (in a white van, on this occasion) accelerated up behind me, and when I kept my course bang in the middle of the road, began honking his horn and shouting.

cyclists ride centrally TfL

The Department for Transport’s advice

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Pride and petrification: Part 2

The Cutester is going away on her first residential school trip in two weeks’ time – five nights away from home, the longest in her ten years of existence. She is of course torn between excitement and terror.

I was trying to calm her fears one bedtime (What if I start throwing up in the middle of the night? What if I cry and everyone calls me a cry baby?) when out of the blue she said, “Can I walk to school on my own tomorrow?”

 

Ffion walks to school

See that tiny dot on the horizon? That’s my daughter walking to school… all by her (sort of) self

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