Mark Laker
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Stonehenge Architects and the ‘Pink Book’ Escape
Determined not to get caught in gridlock on the dreaded A303 while dropping Mum back home, we agreed to hit the road at 7:00 AM. Continue reading
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Garden Centre Mazes and the A34 Survival Strategy
Tempted as I was to simply Photoshop two missing family members into yesterday’s group photo, we decided a proper visit to see Uncle Dave and Auntie Stella in person was probably the better option. Lunch was booked, and we set… Continue reading
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The Unofficial Opening Ceremony (And a Woodland Salad)
Apparently, we weren’t having an official grand opening ceremony after all—just family coming over. Though if you ask me, offering fully guided tours of the house, accompanied walks around the garden, and hours of structured deck lounging sounds suspiciously like… Continue reading
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The Road to Hell (And the View from the Deck)
When Chris Rea sang about the M4 and M25 being the road to hell, he’d clearly never tried navigating the A303 around Stonehenge on a summer Friday. That is actual, unadulterated hell. Continue reading
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Reflections by the Water
Meeting up with an old business colleague today at a The Barge canal-side pub brought back a flood of memories. How on earth is it that he didn’t look a single day older than when I last saw him—if anything,… Continue reading
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Quitting While You’re Ahead
Feeling fully energised, properly fuelled by a decent breakfast, and thoroughly motivated, my first table tennis match of the morning was against Kevin. Keen not to pick up where I’d left off yesterday, I got my eye in quickly and… Continue reading
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Blank Canvases and Boiled shirts
I set off for Marlborough feeling quietly excited about the day ahead: I had a mindset coaching session booked with a young, up-and-coming table tennis star. I did, however, need to keep a strict eye on the clock. My schedule… Continue reading
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An Unsolicited tour of Cornwall
I don’t take on driving jobs often, but when I do, each delivery turns out to be oddly fascinating. Today’s mission was dropping a pristine Land Rover Discovery off at a farm deep in Cornwall. Cruising through the quiet country… Continue reading
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An Exercise in Pot Stirring
“Stir the pot if you want results” was the phrase ringing in my head when I rang an independent caravan trader this morning. I was determined to get a fairer price than the insulting figure offered by the dealership where… Continue reading
Forwards and occasionally sidewards - everyday musings of life 