The Hound of Herne Hill

The other morning, when I woke up Child One to get her to school (now no easy process, as she bought her one-way ticket to adolescentville some time ago, and sleeps like a gorgeous hibernating bear) I threw back the curtains with my usual gusto. And stopped. And stared. On the lawn was a ghastly, …

The Hound of Herne Hill Read More »