This morning I considered entering a BBC script-writing competition for a 30-minute comedy. After spending a few moments reading the guidelines, I lost interest. Apparently they’re looking for something ‘original’. A particularly ironic request considering the spectacularly unoriginal content of most of their programmes. A quick scan of the sample scripts in the BBC Writers’…
Willing Grandpa to Die.
This afternoon – another grey, windy and torrential British winter’s day – I took my two children to see their poorly great-grandpa in a residential care-home (a misnomer, if ever I heard one). Before we went in to the shabby looking building with its neglected gardens and a general air of ‘abandon hope, all ye…
Sisterhood of the World Award.
Ooh, I love these quizzy-questions-getting-to-know-you things. Big thanks, to one of my favourite Twitter & blogging buddies, The Anxious Dragon, for the nomination. I’m not entirely sure what it means, but I appreciate the sentiment, so here goes! The Rules •Thank the blogger who gave you the award and link back to their blog. •Answer…
Go Away!
“No, I don’t want to ‘pop-in’ for a quick Christmas drink.” “No, I don’t want to ‘swing-by’ for a few festive nibbles.” “No, I have no desire to attend your house-warming do.’ So says my brain. My mouth, without consent, says, “Yeeeeeees, we’d absolutely love to pop-in/stay-over/watch your home-birthing DVD/sponsor your dog to walk The…
Introducing Mega-Mum & Her Competitive Christmas Crafts.
‘Make a lantern from recycled materials; from bits and pieces you’ve got lying around at home’, they said. ‘It can even be a simple, paper lantern. Dead easy’, they said. Guidelines which were clearly ignored by Mega-Mum. For her festive lantern wouldn’t look out of place hanging from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Cobbled together from…
No Time to Achieve your Dreams?Rubbish.
Time. It races. It flies. It takes. It heals. We don’t have much of it and there isn’t enough of it in the day. But we all share an equal amount. God (insert creator of choice) gave each one of us, the gift of 24 hours. Yet, most of us don’t try to use those precious hours to achieve something that will bring…
I’m Gluten-Free, Not Personality-Free!
How do you lose friends fast? Alienate your family? And offend everyone you meet who cannot understand why you won’t eat their freshly baked white loaf? You tell them you’re gluten free, of course! Gluten-free people are pariahs. Faddy, fussy, self-obsessed weirdos who sit on the same bench as baby-eaters and dog-beaters. Their desire to not…
Finding Meaning in Suffering (or, working out what that stint in the prawn factory really meant).
Sean Connery polished coffins. Billy Murray sold chestnuts. Christopher Walken tamed lions. Whoopie Goldberg applied lipstick to corpses. From all that I have read and heard from these people, I understand they have enormous gratitude for their former mundane employ. Each experience, no matter how horrendous at the time, contributed to the success they enjoy today. …
Twitter Makes me Anxious!
I’ve got the shakes again. The social media shakes; the Twitter tremors. It’s 24 hours since I published my latest blog post; a post I spent some time crafting; a post I’m proud of; a post only 3 people have read. I am a FAILURE! NO ONE likes me. Maybe I need to focus on my…
Please Don’t Add Me to Your Christmas Card List.
I’m as enthusiastic as the next festive merry-maker when it comes to all things joyful and triumphant. I love Christmas. I love commencing the festivities in November; love giving-in to the irresistible £5 boxes of Roses/Quality Street/Heroes/Sainsbury’s pass-offs; love choosing a tree (although I hate putting it up); love making tasteless cookies with the younglings; and…
What the Midwife Forgot to Mention.
My friend is pregnant. 4 weeks pregnant. She has 8 months to fill her brain with other people’s opinions on pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood. And there are 1000s of opinions out there pleading to be heard (my favourite source can be reliably found on Facebook. Everyone has an opinion on babies/parenting/foreign policy, on Facebook.) But, despite the shelves of Waterstones…
From Whore to Bore.
Warning: If swears and willies offend you, best not read on. I can hear him. Washing his knob in the en-suite sink again. Expectantly, washing his knob. Earnestly, washing-off a day’s worth of urine with the Palmolive hand-wash; in the hope, my stapled-up mouth will fall agape and gratefully envelop his lavender smelling penis. It…
Stop Banging! 