IT is a good job I’m not the sort of person who sees the green man at a crossing and just steps out presuming there are no idiotic tw*ts (insert your own vowel) on the road.

Once again at the Penny Pie Park to Horizon traffic light, I nearly got mowed down by a motorbike who obviously decided that red traffic lights do not apply to him.

I always check for colourblind kn*bheads (insert an ‘o’ – no other option available) and thought: ‘He’s going too fast to stop’.

Luckily as it happened, because he didn’t have any intention of stopping but he raised his hand as a limp sorry and I’m sure his helmet blocked out the sound of me shouting at him.

But had it been my mum, she’d have stepped out into the road and not thought twice. I don’t know what it is about those crossings but it happens way too much.

And that’s just what sort of drivers in charge of vehicles you need outside a school isn’t it?

In a world that seems increasingly mad, let’s be grateful that sense sometimes prevails. You have to be so careful what you say these days and I think we all are sort of aware where the lines are to be crossed, though they have shifted considerably since the 1970s, but imagine joking to a pregnant colleague in a ‘wish you well speech’ before you go on maternity leave that she must be mad for having more kids and then finding yourself hauled up in front of a tribunal on a workplace equality charge.

That’s exactly what happened down in that there London recently. The woman in question decided that was harassment.

Thank absolute goodness that the tribunal chucked it out. But think of the poor bloke who made the comment and the stress he must have been under.

Pregnant woman had a field day because she was clearly trying to throw the book at the company citing that she was denied bereavement leave – when she’d never asked for any.

And discriminated against in meetings – also thrown out. Sex, race, religion – she went full pelt for compo and got not a brass fart..hing. Hallelujah.

There should have been a counter claim for her harassing them, that’d teach her. But let’s just be grateful for small mercies. A diamond of sense shining in a coal mine of WTF. More please.

I had the most wonderful week away in Somerset with friends last week at a writer’s retreat.

The worst part about it was that I had a deadline looming and I actually had to do some work there instead of sitting around, chatting, swimming in the pool and scoffing.

But I did it and now book 23 is in the bag. Sometimes when I look at the shelf of output I think: ‘How the hell did I do that?’ because I remember getting my first two- book deal and thinking: ‘What the chuff am I going to write for the second one?’

All I will say is that it’s amazing what you can do when you try. If we delve down deep inside ourselves, we are often surprised by what we might find.

How do you know you can’t paint if you’ve never picked up a brush? Still early enough in 2025 to give yourself a ‘this year I’m going to…’ pep talk.