A Modern Day Bottom Drawer

Whilst reading a novel set in the 1920’s, I came across the phrase her bottom drawer and I remembered my Grandma telling me about what a girl should collect for her bottom drawer in preparation for married life. Traditionally a woman would accumulate linen, clothing, cutlery etc. The bottom drawer was either a literal or... Continue Reading →

Has their Beauty Made me a Beast?

Is it ok to be jealous of my beautiful daughters? I am getting old. My daughters are not. Yes, I understand the whole cycle of life thing, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. The human body has built-in obsolescence and it pisses me right off. Whilst I am drying up and drooping,... Continue Reading →

In Praise of my Slippers

I’ve had every kind of slipper Sexy leopard print to black I’ve loved them all with passion ‘Cos my slippers have my back * Shoes can be disloyal They will rub and pinch and nip They make your gait uneven Like they mean for you to trip * You don’t get that with slippers They... Continue Reading →

Mother Knows Best…

I am very similar to my mum. I am also the polar opposite. The latter is understandable because we are not biologically related, but as an adoptee I revel in the things which connect us, like a love of drawing, literature and perhaps less impressively, clothes and lashings of makeup. Recently I’ve been writing about... Continue Reading →

I Hate my Husband for Being Thin

Should Menopausal Women’s Husbands be Allowed to be Slim? My husband is thin, I am not, and I hate him for it. We weren’t always like Jack Sprat and his portly wife; in our twenties we were both slim, then in the next decade we took turns at piling on the pounds. He drank and snacked... Continue Reading →

Refurbishing my face

Project: Fill the Cracks I’m approaching fifty, the age when, according to some, I become unlovable. As I apply my make-up, painting over my age-earned imperfections with concealer (think about that word), I realise my face has become a never-ending refurbishment project. I’m trying to make-good the cracks in the plasterwork which reveal the number... Continue Reading →

My Midlife Crisis Bra

Can It Stop Me From Becoming Invisible? I have bought a new bra. It‘s red and lacy, and I think it signals a crisis of confidence. The world tells me I’m at an age where I should be becoming invisible, and I think my dazzling new bra may be a cry for help. I’m no... Continue Reading →

Santa Isn’t Real

Santa Isn’t Real But Can I tell my Ten-Year-OId? Last year I watched my nine-year-old daughter write her letter to Santa. I was dewy eyed and sentimental because I thought this would be the last time I would see a child of mine perform that innocent tradition. I can’t tell you how exasperated I am... Continue Reading →

It’s the Little Things

The Everyday Reminders of Our Age When I last went to the dentist, he suggested I had a set of X-Rays. As he moved the machine towards my head, I asked whether he was going to check if I might be pregnant first. He sighed and said, ‘If it will make you feel better.’ His presumption... Continue Reading →

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