You need to be very, very happy that you are not going to be the not very glad recipient of a gift from me this year. No really. even I feel a bit sorry for anyone getting a little something in their stocking from yours truly because some things have no decent explanation and they…
Well now, it has arrived in good time this year, my annual festive meltdown. For despite being Mrs.Christmas of all the lovely twinkly ideas, each and every twelve months, come the middle of December, I throw a tantrum of spectacular proportions, and everyone LAUGHS. They do. They look at me, ranting and stropping around the…
More than ten years ago now, I created by best-selling (EVER) course, MUSE, and it was a complete triumph of joy and inspiration that had those who took it truly willing to admit that perhaps they weren’t living as fully as they could be: that deep inside them there was another version of themselves tucked…
The lane is shut while men in yellow jackets do things at the end of it. And oh what bliss it is to have it to ourselves without the thundering lorries or, as one neighbour described it, the “whump” of tractors going about their clattery business at five in the morning. And yet, because I…
Recently, I keep finding myself walking the dreadfully unpredictable halls of Reddit in search of who knows what? Stimulation? Entertainment? Laughs? Horror? Disgust? Fright? Food for thought? Outrage? Heaven knows. I read conspiracy theories and horror stories. I gawp at the people of Walmart and laugh at the ludicrous antics of those who aren’t the…
I shouldn’t be allowed on the internet. Sometimes I have to bite my tongue and sit on my hands and generally give myself a good talking to so I don’t turn into one of those snarky types who leaves sarcastic messages at the bottom of posts and memes that have made us want to punch…
Hello, I’m so sorry I haven’t been around. One of the oddest things about being a blogger is that when sad things happen, I have to toss a coin to decide whether to share the details of that sadness or disappear in order to let my silence do all the talking you need to know….
People – friends, doctors, counsellors – keep looking at me and saying I don’t know how you are standing up. Or how much more you can take. And then they catch themselves and say “Oh but you are strong!” and I want to stamp my feet and say NOOOOOOO, I’m not strong, I’m pretending! (And…
A day alone. I am re-living my Sunday’s of old, watching Sex and the City and eating my familiar, single lady meals of M&S prawns with cocktail sauce, and huge bowls of Caesar salad. Hold the croutons please. Food that doesn’t bloat me. Food that strips the flesh off my hip bones and makes me feel…
I know. Those of you who have followed me for years have just keeled over in shock seeing Finley, six feet tall, and a boy now in possession of a beard. Honestly? It makes no more sense to me than it does to you. Where did the little boy in all these posts go? Thank heavens then…