Monthly Archives: November 2018
I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
I mentioned music at the end of my last blog and thought it might be something I’d like to explore as a way back to myself. Music has always been important to me, as a girl I sang in the local girls choir where I grew up in Llanelli. Choral singing has an effect on […]
My Remembrance Day Pin
I looked down at the poppy pinned to my jacket after writing last weeks blog for Remembrance Day. Of course I actually looked at a pin because I rarely have a poppy for long. My poppies are like a Remembrance Day version of the Elf on the Shelf that’s gaining popularity over here, appearing in […]
The Boys
I took my boy to a football match this Saturday, the local derby that is Brentford v QPR. It was away and the traffic was terrible as we slogged across west London eventually conceding defeat and parking in the retail hell-hole that is Westfields shopping centre on a Saturday afternoon. As is the tradition, every […]
I kissed a Hooker and I liked it.
For those not of a rugby frame of mind, I should clarify that the hooker in question hooks the ball backwards in the scrum. I won’t go into the whole shebang about how/why I was kissing a hooker but the brief salient details were that I had been a single parent for quite some years […]
It’s Just Not Cricket
The blog post below is doing the rounds on Twitter for good reason. Not having grown up in England (Africa and Wales if you’re interested) I appreciate the baffling mystery of cricket. However I seem to have adopted English eccentricity as if I were born to it (which I suppose I was – Bristol if […]
Boys and Make-up
After a post celebrating our family anniversary, any subsequent post is virtually guaranteed to be a let down. So let’s really scrape the barrel and talk about boys and make-up. Well make up at least. There have been a few changes I’ve dealt with since my hair has been purple. Although I still spend the […]
Another Woman’s Child
A child born to another woman calls me mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me. – Jody Landers Today is the 12th anniversary of meeting the baby who became my son. It is our family birthday. Twelve years ago I waited outside the office of […]
surelyitshouldntbethatcomplicated 