October 17th, 2014


In Note Form

We spent last night in Cricklade, then travelled back by way of Cirencester and Great Malvern. No-one told me Great Malvern was halfway up a mountain.

Once we got on the M6 it was queue after queue after queue.

Every time we come back to Oldham there seem to be more kids living on our street. The latest bunch are speaking a language I don't recognise. Romanian, perhaps?

Of course they're kicking a ball around. Football: the universal language.

Even with the increase in  kids it's quieter here than at my mother's. I just heard a car go past but there's no continuous roar of traffic.