A note to myself on what NOT to do next year — The list below has been typed out and placed with the leftover Christmas cards, so I find it in 2023. Characters: Roger, my husband and Shen, my dog. Note to self: Do not leave the cranberry sauce you have just made next to the dying tulips you should have put…

Let thee be the judge — There is a most splendid and thought-provoking article here by Linda Caroll about a new AI chatbot that raises the question of whether a robot can write better than a human. In it, she writes:

Here is how to track me down — My dog nearly got savaged yesterday. An out-of-control bull terrier almost ripped my tender Bedlington-Whippet to shreds. Only a diving tackle by my husband prevented bloodshed. Shen was unharmed, and Roger escaped with a nasty graze, which necessitated a medicinal pint or four and the elevation of his feet in…

Hear me out — Don’t you just hate it when people let their egos gain the upper hand? It is a tricky thing to keep the ego in check, but I have happened upon the perfect method. If I ever think I am getting too big for my boots, I play golf. I use…

It is a miracle he is still alive — It was December, snow was on the ground, and the temperature was below freezing. It was the night of my 40th Birthday Party. I had booked the whole restaurant: Borscht N Tears: the oldest Russian restaurant in the UK. The address: 46, Beauchamp (pronounced Beecham, like the Powders) Place, Knightsbridge…

Stories from when I lived next door to Roger Taylor. Almost. — It was our last day house hunting in Cornwall when the estate agent took us to see a tired dormer bungalow on one of the best roads in Cornwall: Bar Road, near The Ferryboat Inn, on the Helford River. Google it. You could just see the roof of Roger Taylor’s…

A True Story — Setting the scene before the main bit of the story. Let me begin with what happened JUST BEFORE I forgot one of my children. If that isn’t your thing, you can scroll to the helpful sub-heading entitled: At last, the main part of the story. But I would like to point out that this preamble is funnier. It’s all about…

A dose of humour just because . . . — Context: I used to write weekly emails to my children. Below is an extract from one I wrote in June 2014 I can’t believe it has only been one week. I am currently writing this while sitting in the grounds of a beautiful Abbey in Oxfordshire, playing hooky…

A humorous insight into the pitfalls of an autistic on a house-hunting mission — Moving house is stressful. Please spare a thought for those of us who are autistic and struggling with extra burdens that defy normal logic. I am lucky to have a house, I know. My stress is likely to be minuscule compared with the stress of poverty, the insecurity of being…