The silent business partner that is grief and the memories that keep you afloat
Muscle Memory
Dry January
Well now, fancy meeting you here! Fear not, I’m not about to preach the perils of drink, it’s only 5 days into the month and I’m already weeping as I walk past the spirit aisle at Morrisons. Out of stupidity or solidarity, I agreed to do Dry January to support my sister in her attempts... Continue Reading →
These Boots Were Made For Walking
Fear not, I don’t possess the derriere to squeeze into Daisey Dukes’ shorts and pay homage to Jessica Simpson’s remake of the old Willy Nelson song – plus it’d be a bit hypocritical to lather up someone else’s car when I can’t be bothered to wash my own. If God wants it clean it’ll rain.... Continue Reading →
Mummy Guilt
I suppose the correct universal term is ‘parent guilt’ but stuff the PC brigade, I’m going to be gender specific and divulge my understanding of the blasted mummy guilt. I do concede it is an imposed assumption of wrongdoing that afflicts both parties once you take ownership of a mini-person. The truth is, my first... Continue Reading →
Death And Taxes
The phrase death and taxes doesn’t sit right with me; I’ve never once been on the phone to Tax Credits, usually multitasking the pots with putting a wash on while on hold for 20+ minutes, the phone cradled between my shoulder and ear, and some scythe wielding deity of the underworld has materialised in my... Continue Reading →
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