We’ve just returned from a few days staying with old mates in Scotland and joining us on our long journey home were a couple of new additions to our household. Meet Yankee & Zulu, our eight week old cocker spaniel puppies. Half term just got a whole lot more hectic, in a good way. Like …
Being married to Mr Christmas (not his real name, obviously) means the tree is up and the Christmas playlist is on repeat. Has been since Sunday. It also means that we’ve made a start on the presents which, given that there are three children, twelve nieces and nephews and a number of godchildren to think …
It was Middle Boy’s first ever nativity play today. As always, we were asked to bring mince pies to be handed out to parents & grandparents afterwards. And for once, instead of resorting to my usual bribery accepting of donations from my mother/mother-in-law I thought I’d make my own. Bad decision: pastry went wrong, pastry cutters …
Funny how things turn out sometimes. Yesterday, I got a flat tyre on the way to school. I had to kill an hour in town whilst waiting for a lift home: cue blissful time in the local bookshop, followed by a coffee and browse in my very favourite clothes shop, leaving in a pair of …
I love Christmas. Family, friends, food, wine, laughs, late nights and slight indigestion just about sums up mine. But as much as you hold loved ones close at Christmas, you really miss the ones that aren’t here. So, here’s to the person or people you are missing this Christmas. Thinking of you. Current white in …
Someone once said – probably Germaine – that beyond a certain age, women become invisible. I’d always assumed that referred to women my mother’s age* but a funny thing happened last week that made me think it might happen sooner than anticipated. As I walked out of Topshop on Oxford Street (see how I’m fighting it?) a young hipster stood with a microphone doing …
Someone once said – probably Germaine – that beyond a certain age, women become invisible. I’d always assumed that referred to women my mother’s age* but a funny thing happened last week that made me think it might happen sooner than anticipated. As I walked out of Topshop on Oxford Street (see how I’m fighting it?) a young hipster stood with a microphone doing …
Saturday night was fun, if a little wierd. I returned from eldest son’s School Ball with a splinter in my foot from shoes-off dancing. My husband returned with a painting having bid for it in the auction. I think he had the fizz equivalent of beer goggles for art on with that one. Fart goggles, perhaps. We got home, navigated our way through …
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