*Blush* The adorable Brit in Bosnia/Fraught Mummy has lavished me with the Zombie Chicken award. Dearest Fraught, you shouldn’t have, but I’m so glad you did! For the very few out there who are not yet aware of the true significance of the award, I reproduce its mission statement: “The blogger who receives this award …
As we’ve come over all literary (and don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t last) did you see a little article in yesterday’s Independent, entitled, ‘Raise your brendice to a new lexicon’? It was all about a book called The Wonder of Whiffling, a compendium of quirky words from around the globe. Obviously I am beyond …
Very excited as I have been asked to join the Telegraph’s online book club. I started my journalistic career, oooh, 400 years ago, on the Peterborough column of the mighty Telegraph. The paper had just moved to Docklands but had one foot still very much in Fleet Street. My colleagues on Peterborough, although all in …
I have been tagged by the wonderful, irrepressible Linda of gotyourhandsful and havealovelytime. Linda is a great writer, and one of the kindest people I know, so I have no hesitation at all in nicking one of her best lines, to announce that I do love a good tagging. This tag is all about favourite …
I do feel guilty for inflicting my last whinge on you. Blimey, I shall have to do double the blessing counting if we’re to get through even the beginning of autumn in any sort of shape. Thanks for all your kind words and I’ll try not to do it again. I was going to counteract …
Tough talking at Divorce Towers yesterday. I was having a chat with the girls about life, growing up and stuff, and they were entering that fantasy realm, which I love, planning their future lives. Child Two used to say she would live next door to me but I notice she’s thinking of the other side …
Off to the dentist again for more torture. On the plus side (I am constantly counting my blessings now, in order to retrain my sad mind into a new, joyful bower. Blimey, there are so many pluses to count it’s as bad as maths homework. Ooops, methinks that is not the right attitude) this means …
Child one was at a sleepover last night. Sigh. Sleepovers are so different, now, from days of yore. Then, it was all Barbie nightdresses, watching Postman Pat and all in bed by a, gosh, it’s so late, 9.30, with a giggling outbreak of ‘midnight’ sweetie eating at about 10, followed by loud snores until breakfast, …
Well, my dearest ones, I am back. The holiday tally: Mosquito bites on my face, causing me to swell up like a pekingese, two; Enormous fillings which fell out while eating a chip which I lovingly cooked myself (don’t you just adore self catering?), one; Rows with stepchildren, one (but a vicious one and the …
Yippee, the girls will be back tomorrow! Not quite such yippee, they are bringing exactly 42kg of dirty washing with them. Though a smidgeon of clothes washing was achieved at their first holiday stop, all that good work, brought about by constant drilling from me that they might mention to Mr X the concept of …