My aunt will try to have me hung drawn and quartered for this…but I’ve never been a Diana fan. Pity the way she died and all – absolutely – but I’ve just never shared in my country’s obsession with the British Monarchy. I do, however, feel it’s adoration – more celebrity infatuation really – for
Browsing category blogging
This morning I donned shades and neroli oil. Paid a visit to the Christmas markets. I held my nose against the German bratwurst and breathed in the smell of mulled wine. A Dutchman tried to sell me some cheese. A pair of tiny wooden shoes. Then Santa asked “What do you want for Christmas …
“We plunged into the cornucopia quivering with desire and the ecstasy of unbridled avarice.” – A Christmas Story My first crush was a boy named Bobby. He was five and looked just like Bo Duke. My second, Ralphie. I couldn’t have been more than 8 when he first pummeled Scut Farkus, ratted out his buddy
I use to take some degree of pride in never having set foot in the Smokey Mountains. I preferred Paris to Pigeon Forge and Nuremberg to that Gatlin place. I was awful like that. Anyway, a few weeks ago I had to pay a visit to the University of Tennessee’s School of Veterinary Medicine after
The New York Times just released it’s 10 Best Books List – You can check out the top 100 here. I’ll just touch on the fiction selections because there’s bound to be something political on that other ‘non’ one and to be quite honest, I don’t have the stomach for it today – am fighting
Zadie Smith once told me I had to be fearless if I wanted to be a writer. We were talking about television shows we adored and daughters we didn’t have when I said it: “I just quit my job. To finish that novel everyone and their mothers are writing.” I bit my lip because I
Pumpkin pie. Apple Pie. Cherry Pie. Reece Cake. Chocolate Bunt. Pecan Strudel. Banana Pudding. Mint something. Butter Cream. And Caramelised Casserole. Of a sort. The name of the sweet-potato-and-butter-flavoured-brown-sugar-with-pecans-on-top-pie escapes me. Generation ‘X’ took on the Turkey and more. Our mothers took photos. Their’s stood by and looked the lady. (My grandma is delicate and
Thanksgiving is at the brother’s this year. The brother is single and away in Montcove…or somewhere there abouts. So I’m the hostess. Every thing’s a mad rush. I got in just before ten last night. After a weekend of laughing little ladies and super spicy food. Found fifty pounds of turkey – half frozen, half
Collapsing beneath Trajan’s Column after walking too far afield in four inch heels. Marcus Ulpius Nerva Traianus, or ‘Trajan’, was the second of the Five Good Emperors of the Roman Empire. The Empire reached its greatest territorial extent under his rule. The Column was raised by Apollodorus of Damascus at the order of the Senate
It’ s a little crazy in the Eternal City. A certain celebrity couple have taken it by storm. Shame, really. We have a bit yet before Turkey Time. Before we head to the hills – for the first time in nine years – for family and food. Until then I’ll be grazing on anti pasta,
Apologies to all those experiencing problems with the blog these past two weeks. Seems Internet Explorer has had trouble reading a bit of my wonky html from an earlier post. I’m a Firefox girl myself so I didn’t notice the glitch as soon as I should have (Thanks to Wendy for putting me onto it).
