Gosh, life in Dulwich can be exhausting. Let me talk you through my schedule and, by the time I’m finished you, too, will be yearning for a gin and tonic, a juicy re-run of ER and the love of a good man – and very good luck with that around these parts, my dears. It …
I ring my lovely brother, who does terribly clever things on the other side of the world. He is quivering with outrage. Amazon has just sent him an unsolicited email, you know, one of those ‘serving suggestion’ ones, saying more or less, ‘you’ve bought that book, so you’re bound to like this book – buy …
Do you ever feel that you don’t understand the man in your life? Do you, perchance, feel that it’s hard to communicate with the opposite sex? Well, worry no longer, for, as a reknowned expert on misunderstandings, contretemps and, indeed, divorce, I have decided to step into the fray and provide the world, and most …
Lampreys, the Inland Revenue, spring, security letter boxes with extra-thin slots at stations – these are just a few of the things I’ve been musing on this week. But somehow, none has made a blog’s worth of thought worthy of troubling you with. So I’m off to see the lovely Susanna at http://www.thamesvalleymums.com/2009/03/3-march-best-of-the-mummy-bloggers.html to catch …
I crawl out of my foxhole like a soldier in a very battered tin hat, accessoried with khaki netting, my bayonet still raised to ward off any stray pink hearts which could still be circling, ready to attack. I feel my military metaphors are hopelessly tangled, but you get the idea. Thank God Valentine’s Day …
It’s Valentine’s Day. Sniff. The children are with Mr X. The only post was from the Inland Revenue, demanding £793. But am I downcast? Well, der, as Child One and Two would say in unison, if only they were here. My cast is definitely down. However much one steels oneself, that naughty little worm, hope, …
As you know, after listening to my sister-in-law’s CDs of the Secret, I have been keenly awaiting the arrival of a Louis Vuitton handbag as, to summarise the Secret (and save you from listening to 4 CDs), if you expect something hard enough, it will turn up. Well, nothing to report on the handbag front …
Oh, the bliss! The Treasures’ ludicrously expensive schools are shut, shuddering at the thought of a single snowflake sullying their immaculate tarmac, and we have spent two days at Brockwell Park, whooshing down slopes on my least favourite tray from Peter Jones, emblazoned with an unpleasantly photographic rendition of a passion fruit. There was some …
De-de de de De-de de de De-de de de …. Yes, I fear it is true. Divorce Towers has entered the Twilight Zone. It all started when my lovely sister-in-law gave my eldest treasure a stack of books by some American person called Stephenie Meyer. Apart from a passing wonderment that the author spelt her …
