It’s holiday time. And I have a very clear idea of how things should be organised: Fantasy In January, I spend a happy weekend surfing lovely places to stay. I book judiciously, and soon I have little entries on the calendar for April, a weekend in July, and two weeks in August. I spend the …
It was the school’s Easter concert tonight, my favourite of the year. Bittersweet, as ever, though, as I watched the other parents wander in two by two and sit and wave at their children. There’s no place where I feel more like a single parent than on a shiny wooden pew at a school do. …
I’ve been blowing my own trumpet so much of late that I am in real danger of blistering my perfect pout. But, in the absence of a team of cheerleaders on my benches, I sort of feel justified. Almost. Well, anyway, the news is so exciting that I can’t help yelling it from the rooftops …
We were listening to the splendid Capital Radio this morning, with Johnny Vaughn and Lisa Snowdon. The subject was lame claims to fame, and they included a woman who’d sold a sofa to Daniel Beddingfield and someone who’d once dressed up as Bumble in Rainbow. Excellent! Of course, it got me thinking of my own …
I’m not sure what to make of the news that Debenhams is setting up divorce lists, as a trendy alternative to wedding lists. I imagine the idea is that the newly separated can get friends to chip in and buy them a replacement for the toaster abandoned when they scarpered from the marital home. …
In a pathetic and blindingly obvious attempt to cheer myself up in the midst of ghastly domestic anguish which, these days, I am too noble to blog about directly, I bring you my Divorce Top Ten. It’s a list of all the terrific advantages of life as an EWAG, or ex-wife and girlfriend. For any …
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 …
According to the Sunday Times, getting divorced these days is something to celebrate. Women everywhere, apparently, are organising ‘anti-hen’ parties, icing Divorced At Last on large white cakes, watching their wedding videos in reverse and whooping with joy when the groom removes the wedding ring and the pair separate, driving off into their individual, lonely …
I was going to write a long post about the pain of missing my children. They’re off on holiday with Mr X, and I’m certain they’re going to have a lovely time. But it’s a lovely time without me. Very hard. The trouble is, like labour pangs, it’s either the sort of pain you already …
There are one or two advantages of being The Only Divorcee in the Village. Well, actually, I can’t think of two, but there is one – I am in great demand as a last minute dinner party stunt guest. Everyone knows that, since my husband got custody of our social life, I am available before …