Here I still float, grinning on the crest of my son’s upgrade into the premier league – i.e. his marriage to my favourite daughter-in-law (FDIL) last weekend – but wondering how best to blog about the occasion without breaking any weddinquette boundaries. Admittedly I have lost my nerve. While I was contained enough to not…
Tag: #daughters
If this isn’t nice, what is?
As we venture into December it feels timely to undertake some active noticing of what is going well. Someone will want to punch my Christmas lights out for starting this discourse, but I have no intention of gloating; this blog is a note to self to stop incessantly sighing and to show a little gratitude…
A Brood of Hens
As I release you from the tenterhook you will have suffered since last week’s instalment to my Autumn Wedding Compendium of blogs, I feel that my partner in crime – Mother of the Bride (MOB) to my Mother of the Groom (MOG) – will not be offended if I refer to us both as ‘broody…
Weddinquette
Apologies to my loyal reader for it has been a while since you last heard from me. I am currently surfing the wave of weddingitis and enjoying it so much that I have had little time to write since the school summer holiday ended I have been distracted by going for the triple – in…
It’s a dogs life
For the second time in six months I am gifted with an invitation to dog sit. On both occasions the canine hosts have been so entertaining and ‘their’ home locations so stunning that really it is I who should be paying their hapless owners for these opportunities to be left in charge. At this point…
It’s curtains for me
Loyal reader, buckle up for an update on my cottage. Radio silence on this topic has been born out of sloth-like tendencies on the DIY front and there has been absolutely nothing to report. I have loved my cottage, lived in it and still view it as my sanctuary, but I have allowed myself to…
Fat Chance
The last blog received the most beautiful responses (thank you) which allowed the FullMoon experience to linger much longer than the lactic acid and permitted The Chelsea Flower Show to take over when Oldest Friend (OF) and I grew tired of reminiscing about our sequinned pilgrimage. What surprised me more than completing the MoonWalk mileage…
DNF
I promise that this running story differs from my usual sanctimonious smuggery. Stick with me and you may even detect some humility. My latest marathon was a first but in the wrong way; there was no Finisher’s t-shirt or medal on account of my failure to complete the course. The only thing that I acquired…
It’s not all about me
As my loyal reader will know, I am shamelessly nosey. I like to call it curiosity. When I gifted my future Son in Law a game based around dilemmas I did so in the greedy hope that he would open the game in my presence and rush to involve his nearest and dearest in play….
Mum’s the word
Running along a Dorset coastal path this morning – Twixmas fog coaxing me dangerously close to not greeting in the New Year – I find myself ridiculously upbeat considering that I am dragging nearly two weeks’ of over-indulgence up a tricky incline and already regret entering Brighton Marathon 2025 in a rash moment of running…
The Dragonfly Jar 