Last week I posted this quiz for the musically minded who like to ponder. You’ll be amazed (possibly) to hear that no one got full marks. Actually the only person who officially entered was @himupnorth and I have to break
Blognonymous – My Husband wants to leave me…
What follows was not written by me – it is a Blognonymous post. If you’re unfamiliar with Blognonymous please click on the link and find out more. Our poster would like to remain anonymous and really appreciates you taking the
Another visual spectacular….
It seems that there’s some healthy rivalry in the blogging world at the moment. My sister and brother in the North are trying to outdo each other in producing the hardest-music-quizzes-in-the-world-ever. That’s just not my style, I’m nice like that.
A novel in a month? Easy peasy pudding and pie… (eek)
It’s National Novel Writing Month, or #NaNoWriMo to its friends and twitter followers. The challenge has been set – to write 50,000 words in the month of November. The equivalent to a novel, apparently.
Cleaning obsessed? Not so much…
Theories often abound that we are a nation obsessed with cleaning, that if we just relaxed a little then childhood asthma, eczema, allergies and the like would all just fade away back to pre-war levels.
And now for the toothless grin…..
After a practically perfect half term that involved spending time with lovely people like this, this, this and this, we packed off our brood for a night with their grandparents. The 5yo arrived with her first, and by now very
Letting it go….
This morning the 5yo gouged the face of the 4yo. Luckily we’d recently cut off all her nails so all she left were red marks that quickly faded. An hour later, en route to that there London, the 4yo retaliated,
Where are all the angry people?
I was talking to an old friend this week, remembering a time when we were both much younger. It’s funny where the tendrils of nostalgia take you – I got to thinking about activism, about taking a stand, shouting your
An Amazing Adventure
Sometimes you meet someone and it feels like it was ‘meant to be’. Maybe you’ve admired them from afar before getting up the nerve to talk to them properly, and when you finally do you launch into a friendship that
Horses sweat, men perspire, women merely glow…
I’m a runner. This time last week I’d have been unqualified to say that. You could have probably had me pulled over by the running ombudsman and challenged that my occasional run/walk around country lanes signified nothing more than attempted