The BNP

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It's interesting to note that there are 3 people on the BNP membership list with the surname Black - I'm surprised they let them in ;-)

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Dipping a toe into hot water

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I don't usually go near controversial topics.  I keep it light and fluffy and talk about how badly designed toilets are  or s ometimes about nothing at all .  But today, I'm going to turn a little bit serious and talk about women.   The thing is, I can feel that even reading that there's been a sharp intake of breath amongst some people reading this. So, on LinkedIn yesterday I recounted something which happened to me a few years ago.  It's a true story, and I gave only the highlights in a quick status update.  Here it is... A few years ago, I met a recruiter for coffee.  During the conversation over coffee, he made one or two remarks about a woman who walked into the coffee shop which I thought were inappropriate remarks.   I didn't say anything at the time, but never worked with the recruiter to either represent me, or to hire for me in any of the roles I've been in since.   My only regret is that I didn't tell him why.  It feels a little bit t
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A book I didn’t like

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I read a lot of books.  Not as many as I’d like to – but that’s mostly because of my high ambition level when it comes to reading lots of books rather than a lack of reading. Sometimes I read books which teach me things, and sometimes I read books which make me think.  But sometimes I just like to read a good story.  No messages, no agenda, just a good story. One of my favourite books is “Haunted” by James Herbert.  It doesn’t pretend to preach any message, nor to stimulate any intellectual debate.  It’s just a great ghost story. However, I’ve found other James Herbert’s books disappointing.  The sequel to “Haunted” – which is so forgettable that I’ve forgotten its name – was terrible.  As was “The Secret of Crickley Hall” which I just finished reading. I’ve literally taken this book around the world with me.  I’ve carted it in my suitcase to provide reading on a long-haul flight home many times, and never started reading it.  Until the middle of last week, that is.  One evenin
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Escapology

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(J'ai réécrit cet article en Français ici ) We recently got a place in the countryside.  So we're now splitting our time back and forth between the house out here and the flat back in Wapping. And so that means the guinea pigs come back and forth with us too.  At first they weren't so keen on the idea; previously the cat basket had been associated with trips to the vet and the ensuing prodding and poking, so they didn't take too kindly to it.  But now, after only a couple of months, they've settled into the routine of going back and forth between two cages. Given we moved into this house when it was still cold, their cage was in the sun room.  I wouldn't call it so much as a conservatory; it's just a simple building attached to the back of the house with lots of windows, and heating and lighting - so ideal for the guinea pigs in winter when we wouldn't really be using the room anyway. Also in there are the gerbils.  They don't always come bac
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