No scribblings about babies on this blog. Just musings on life, love, the universe and other such inanities.
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Find one of my stories in this Scary Anthology. Available on amazon.com
Monthly Archives: April 2017
Every woman deserves to be a little sister. Little sisters have all the fun. When you’re a little sister you never have to fondly recall the days when your parents were there for you and you alone. You never have … Continue reading
What was the likelihood of our paths ever crossing? Pretty much zilch in a million, I estimate. If she hadn’t bent down to tie her loosening shoe-lace or if I had had time to clean my greasy glasses before leaving … Continue reading
This morning is the morning after. On these mornings I avoid looking in the mirror until I forget what I am trying to avoid and catch a glimpse of myself as I approach the breakfast table. Then this is the … Continue reading
Patience threatened to leave me at the beginning of this week, making me a little tense and strained. By yesterday it had packed its bags and gone to live with someone else, throwing me into a state of irritability which … Continue reading
In the Younubogue Family can I have the daughter please? Oh, that’s me. And the sister? Me too. Wife? Mother? Aunt? Each card seems to bear a little picture of me. That must be because I play all these roles … Continue reading
I’ve been conducting a scientific experiment recently, trying to see the effects of a simple yet hugely interesting study of human nature. What on earth have I been up to? I’ve been smiling in the street. There have been no … Continue reading
Good morning everyone. My name’s Julie and I’m an adaholic. I’m here today because I thought I could stay off the ads and had been dry for almost six months. But last week I plunged and have been diving deeper … Continue reading
Hubby, for his role as the Good Son in “My Father is a Flipping Moron”. Although he has played this role his whole life it is only now, after the death of his mother, that Hubby has really gained a … Continue reading
We bought our bedside tables over fifteen years ago from a wonderfully perfumed, beautifully decorated American store called Pottery Barn. Made of smooth, polished, dark wood atop black, wrought-iron legs, they fitted in perfectly with our old-fashioned, jumble sale, mix … Continue reading