Lessons From A One-Year Old

Today was Arthur’s first birthday. We had a little party for him and discovered he has tonsillitis. Unsurprisingly, I’ve learnt a lot of things this year. Here are the two most important lessons The Boy has taught me

Apple-Smoked Barbecued Pulled Pork Shoulder

My birthday present from The Wife this year was a Curing and Smoking course at Seasoned Cookery School in Derbyshire. The rather wonderfully-named Turan T Turan took us through the processes of curing, brining, air-drying, hot-smoking and cold-smoking, and I left with various paraphernalia for food-smoking at home. Although I’ve done less with it than I hoped, I’m determined to nail smoked salmon by Christmas, and I have a couple of stupid ideas I’d like to try out. I also managed a passable slow-smoked pork shoulder on my barbecue.

Procrastination, Paralysis and Stagnation; on getting stuck in a rut

In three weeks time, The Boy will be a year old, which is - frankly - bonkers. In that time, I have taken literally hundreds of pictures of him, lovingly curated into a growing set of Arthur, Daily books; got just-under-halfway through a stalled alphabet project; and posted here only twice (neither time in 2014). I have been on courses to learn how to cure and smoke food, brew beer, and butcher meat and done very little with any of the knowledge I gleaned, apart from make myself feel bad about that fact.

Albums of 2013

Widowspeak - Almanac


Papa Sis was born sometime in the early 2000s, in a student accommodation living room in St Andrews. Ben, Mark and I were visiting Malcs, and a Hungover Tismey was sitting in an armchair, wrapped in a blanket, grumbling about how rubbish everything was. I don’t recall if it was Mark or Malcs who first coined Papa Sis to describe the curmudgeonly figure I cut, but it kind of stuck. Since then, it’s been recycled as a DJ and stage name, and I quite like it, so I’ve been planning some kind of self-portrait for Papa since starting this project in January.


One of the reasons I am so very, very far behind on this year’s alphabet is that, rather excitingly, we’re expecting a baby. He’s actually overdue now, so one way or another I will definitely be a father this time next week.