Chopin and I are currently on a plane somewhere over Iraq. I just looked over at her and she was slowly stretching out her right hand, making lots of unusual shapes.

I watched absentmindedly for a minute or so before my tics piped up:

“What are you doing, Dolphin?”…

As I climbed into bed tonight an unusual light caught my eye. And extraordinarily, for once it wasn’t the lamp-post.

Visible at the very top of the window, just poking out from behind a scaffold pole outside, was a tiny, bright white light.…

I woke up this morning and a chorus of Christmases started almost immediately:

“Merry Christmas, geranium.”
“Merry Christmas, festive zebra.”
“Merry Christmas, laser jet printer.”
“Merry Christmas, protective padding.”

Here at the castle I can hear Will and Lottie stirring next door.…

Across the world it’s been a year of dramatic change, from the UK referendum result to the pugnacious President-Elect in the USA.

In this era of uncertainty we need true leadership from our politicians, something that sadly seems all too scarce.…

Yesterday afternoon I bought a Christmas tree.
Yesterday evening Innes decorated it.
This morning I started berating it.

Berating’s like decorating, but with insults. It was festive berating though:

“Tree, I’d offer you a mince pie, but you’re a tree.”
“Tree, you’re more garish than the geranium.”…

As I explained yesterday my body’s struggling with the change in time zone, with exhaustion, and with being somewhat run down. This means I’m having more frequent and intense ‘ticcing fits’ than usual.

I had a fit this afternoon that lasted over 40 minutes.…

For the last five years I’ve experienced sudden intensifications of my tics several times a day. These episodes, which I call ‘ticcing fits’, had been happening on and off for years, but in October 2011 something changed and they became a very regular part of my life.…

After a glorious sleep I woke this morning in Melbourne, which I think is the farthest I can possibly be from the castle and my lamp-post. But my tics have made themselves completely at home immediately:

“Antennae, are you signalling to Alan to put the kettle on?”…

A couple of days ago I wrote about my tics’ reaction to the lettings board that had appeared outside my bedroom window.

Today some other arrivals caught their attention, but this time they greeted them as old friends.

“Welcome back scaffold poles, I thought you’d eloped with the bin.”…

It’s that magical time of year when several fields near Market Harborough become awash with colour, creativity, music, laughter and friendship. And I’ve got my fingers crossed that they won’t be awash with rain.

It’s Shambala Festival, one of my favourite events of the summer.…