Sophie Lee's Blog
Welcome to 2020 and to the world of slhippocampus!

The new decade has dawned dramatically, trailing the carcasses of climate change related devastation in its wake, whilst simultaneously ushering in diplomatic catastrophes, threats of imminent violence, blundering despots, uprisings and nail-bitingly long-awaited court cases. How is this a welcoming introduction to my website, you ask? Well, this year I aim to soothe you with my random, rambling observations of modern life and I’ll throw in a sprinkling of minutiae to provide a brief respite from the madness unfolding around us.



I’m currently writing some new fiction so anything novel or short related is as thrilling to me as a… I dunno, a pair of box-fresh Todds are to someone by the name of Tarquin who is on his way to Tramps following a shooting party.



Please feel free to congratulate me now for not mentioning Brexit thus far. I think the national obsession here will wane slightly under Let’s Get Brexit Done Boris so that we may finally focus on the many other pressing matters that require our thought and attention. Of course, I could be completely wrong, but that will still give me something to write to you about, when they can no longer get urgent pharmaceuticals across the European borders and I end up in hospital. It’ll be jolly. Promise!

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I look forward to spending 2020 with you and don’t worry, everything will be hippocampus.

Sophie
  1. 20 June 2018

    My youngest child is puffy-eyed from lack of sleep and therefore sluggishly dressing for World War 2 Day. Much to his disgust, boys  are not allowed to come dressed as soldiers flaunting weapons, but rather, as children who are about to be evacuated from Blitz-y London to the countryside with all its anticipative magical wardrobes. Items I’ve been able to forage for this event so far consist of skater shorts with pockets in the wrong places to be of the period, long  socks that read the word Disorder, his usual button up white shirt, a linen blazer and a grey v neck- even though the forecast is a blazing 25 degrees and sunny. Once WW2 boy’s transformation is complete, minus the blazer which he tears off declaring it ‘IMPOSSIBLE’, the tweenager, stationed at the bench with toast, YouTube and Latin verbs, snorts loudly.

    “Don’t say anything,” I hiss, then shout […]


  2. 14 March 2018

    Although it’s a full two years since I relocated to London, there are days when I feel as though I’m a kidney, transplanted into the body of a benevolent but fractious host. Some days the host body shudders, develops an infection and the kidney, seemingly, begins its slow path of rejection.
    But for the majority of the time I feel as though the transplant has been a success and if the host body could just keep taking its meds and stay away from acidic alcoholic beverages, all would be well.
    The secret to making sure that you, the kidney, adapt and thrive in a relatively new environment boils down to having  a positive mental attitude (mine is dubious), but friends, girlfriends in particular, make a hell of a difference to your daily status quo. At the ripe age of this particular kidney friends are needed more than ever, […]


  3. 31 January 2018

    There’s nothing quite like the ‘flu to kickstart a detox. I don’t know about you, but that was how 2018 began for me. There I was, on the flight home from Sydney, dreading the thought of giving up everything delicious in life when along came a virus which ensured nothing passed my lips for days. Everyone here in London has had flu, flu and more flu; Aussie flu, Japanese flu, H1N1 flu, Ol’ Swine flu and the list of maladies goes on. Mine evolved with what imagined were tiny men pulling on my orbital nerves, a strange buzzing sensation in my face and relentless nausea. When I finally scraped myself off the bathroom floor and the comfort of both its tiles and its damp bathmat, I floated off into the ether for days like a bewildered creature trapped in a Damian Hurst sculpture. I quite literally couldn’t get out of […]