I do love a baby. Especially mine obviously, but they’re not babies anymore. And I’m not broody when I see one nowadays, just ridiculously tears-in-eyes happy.
Find Wine!
Ah, Christmas. So much stuff to organise – food, presents, plans – and so little time to do it. Now, I can’t help you with the last minute mince pie requests or the sudden call for a star costume (for real, made one out of a wine box earlier this week in ten minutes flat) but I can help you with wine.
I have a terrible poker face. That whole ‘can’t tell what they’re thinking’ thing? Whatever it is, it’s usually written all over mine.
I’m currently 60% rosé, 40% hot dogs and the school holidays haven’t even started yet. I blame the weather. And the football.
I thought I could take it or leave it. You know, dip in and out as and when it suited me.
I was away working in London all last week and after two rain-sodden weeks of school holidays, it felt like something of a mini-break.
Thank you for all my lovely birthday messages, especially the one that reminded me I’m now old enough to know what really matters.
I’ve been dying to tell you about this: I’m writing another book. And this time, we’re back on the booze. Out next year, it’s all about how to make really good cocktails at home.
My let-them-get-bored strategy has come back to bite me. “Mum, please can we do some painting?” are seven words you don’t want to hear at 6.35pm after a long day.
