The danger with blogging, at least the way I do it, is that the blog can become a place to be unhappy.  To bemoan the state of the political nation.  Or to mark mournful anniversaries.  We forget to celebrate what we have, to cherish the small moments.  One thing I love is walking my boy Giorgie to school.  So here I am, celebrating and cherishing, in what may become a School Run series.

1. Topiary

Giorgie and I, singing Morning Has Bro-ken (the way you do) en route to school this morning, thought there was a line about “the first word” in the hymn.  There isn’t – but we got to wondering what was the first word?

And who thought it up?  Our favourite idea was that the first word was “topiary”.  An early human, admiring some interestingly-pruned hedging, felt it deserved a specific noise, and landed straight on the money with “topiary”.

You’d have to be pretty pleased with yourself if you came up with the first word, wouldn’t you?  Even if perhaps it wasn’t the most useful one?

And what if you came up with the second word?  That would be a result, too.  You could go round saying, “I have invented the world’s second word.  In doing so, I have doubled the world’s stock of verbal resources, and there’s not many who can make that proud boast.”