the knackered mother's wine club
the blog where it all began
That is the question, as it turns out. My husband is sporting a beard (grown pre-Becks, he likes to remind me) and I just can’t decide if I like it or not. One minute he looks like a manly...
I measure all pain on the BC scale: before childbirth. Even using an epilator is a walk in the park nowadays. But there is a mother who has raised the bar when it comes to showing the...
Cats: never got them. Or rather, couldn’t quite connect with those referred to as ‘cat people’. Like you have to choose just one animal to love. A sweeping...
A late post from me this week, I’ve been away with work. In fact, still here in the wierd and wonderful place that is Los Angeles. A dose of sun and a red convertible Mustang...
So, we went to a gig the other night to see the very excellent Editors. Loved the music but the dancing and whooping felt ever-so-slightly self-conscious. Is it me?...
There was a time when the Sunday Papers were read cover to cover all before our first glass of wine at lunchtime on a Sunday. No longer. Now, I might manage one article in short bursts over...
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