Liberté,égalité,fraternité. I don’t know any place where you really do find ALL these ideals other than the dance floor. You are free to express yourself, all revellers are equal and you’re best mates with everyone for the evening.
It’s not just fun, it’s therapy, so say the scientists. And there are so many opportunities to get out there. Nonetheless, I…
Caring for young children and elderly parents all at the same time. This is what I would define the Sandwich Generation. It feels mad what I have put myself and my family through….Two and a half years living with Alzheimer’s. When I say living with, I mean, as primary carer and care manager for my demented mum.In her own home. Till the end.
We relocated from Acton. I changed…
Mums and sleep deprivation … we can all relate. I see Meta has employed a paediatric sleep deprivation therapist, suggesting it thinks its parenting-employees need lessons in getting their kids to sleep, too much indulging going on, too much lost sleep, impacting negatively on their Precious Productivity. Oh dear…
Companies want it all. And we want it all, don’t we. The Career.
ROYAL BALLET’s Like Water for Chocolate – streamed into a cinema near you.
This is a totally new production, all devised from scratch, the choreography, music, set and costumes, based on the novel by Laura Esquivel. The ballet moves are a fusion of classical rigour and exciting modern expression.
One big break with tradition which I totally applaud is the drastically reduced time…
Generally I find tats a turnoff. They just look threatening or like a mould-fest. And why do it? All the pain, and weeks of wrapping yourself in clingfilm to prevent infection, only to regret the whole thing in later years.
During lockdown however, I read a novel called The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng which inspired me to think otherwise. The lovers are bound by an agreement that the…
Curating your life – continued from my blog series – just to get us through this dismal patch… This is February! I reject the cynics who say that organising fun stuff and posting beautiful photos is ‘Insta-vanity’. Rather it’s an antidote to gloomy thoughts and even depression. It’s our own form of self-medication, a conscious choice to embrace the light.
I recently paid a mystery shopper’s type of visit to Toy Fair 2023 at Kensington Olympia. I have a bit of a cynical view of toys; they get given in vast quantities, entertain for half an hour, only to be abandoned in a drawer or cupboard soon after, and end up in charity shops. They are often of doubtful value for encouraging children with learning, creating, socialising or imagining. And…
Sound is my cuppa tea. Tint. Shade. Hue. Nope, not a clue. I was quite contented perceiving the world in secondaries. And it was very obvious in the way I dressed. A lot of monochrome because my son told me to, and it concealed. A Multitude. And unflattering shapes.
Madeleine … a dress for every occasion
As a young thing, I thought fashion was superficial, for air-heads; inner beauty…
BOOM! Somebody knocked on the door.
Uncle Vernin came downstairs holding a gun. ‘Who’s there? To come my house, we haven’t invited anyone.’ he shouted. SMASH!! The door fell on the floor. A big man was standing there.
‘Hello Harry, can you make me a cuppa tea?’ Harry just stared and froze.
Vernon said ‘Get OUT!’
Hagrid said, ‘Shut up, Vernin! Harry, Happy…
At breakfast one day the post came. Harry picked up the letters and he saw a letter with his name on.
‘Mr H Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs’
He was very supprised. Nobody ever sent him a letters. Dudderly saw his letter and told Uncle Vernin. Vernin snatched it away and Harry got angry. ‘It’s mine, give it back.’ said Harry. ‘Go to your cupboard.’ Uncle Vernin said, and…