Well the plan to “spend some quality time with Piglet” over half term appears to have fallen flat. Piglet is currently out with Granny, socialising with her friends as usual, while I do boring things like try to sell my flat and shell out dizzying sums of money for the privilege. In fact, much of…
Month: October 2015
I Am Miranda, and My Mother is Magda
I know, I know, I haven’t written on here in like, TEN DAYS, and I am, like, RUBS at this blogging malarkey, but the thing is, nothing has happened. Well, OK, work has happened, and Piglet catching conjunctivitis has happened. And Piglet spreading his conjunctivitis to Granny, so that Granny wakes up every morning with…
Why we should never go to cafes
1.) Because my mother is always three steps away from swooping in and rescuing the baby from my neglectful folly in trying to feed them a strawberry yo-yo for lunch. 2.) Because the words “shhh, we’re in John Lewis. People come here for a bit of civilisation and class,” mean nothing to a 14…
Why my mother is amazing
If I ever won an Oscar (which I will do, one day, even though I have shown zero interest in acting since the age of thirteen, when I was cast in a production of Oliver Twist and forced to sing a brief but excruciating solo, consisting purely of the words “ripe, strawberries ripe” and my…