My long-suffering husband, GJ, has been in London this week. And this time I didn't manage to whinge myself into accompanying him...
It's been a golden autumn so far here in the Queen's England. Darkening trees are still hanging on to their lime, bronze and gold-bedazzled leaves as if they are treasured offspring. The usual November rain has yet to arrive to drench leaves from branches, casting them carelessly onto slippery black roads. Gales have been forecast by troubled-looking TV weather presenters, but the trees have yet to fling off their foliage like menopausal mothers shrugging off their too-warm woollens.
So, it's been pretty out. The arrival of autumn has shaken me out of some of my misery. Sorry that you have had to share it with me...
My blog is sometimes sanctuary to me, listening and sympathetic ear, confessor, teacher, mentor.
I've been chuckling, courtesy of Statcounter, at the reasons some of you have visited my blog. I haven't looked at it for a while.
Here you go - The latest search words and my random thoughts on them:
Widows of Culloden kate moss
Fashion again; Where I used to stay... and a Skanky Girl. What more could you want?
A WOMAN WITH NO clothes
If you've been looking through my bathroom window again, watch out! I'm having that blind fitted this weekend.
Rosemary's Baby t shirts
Again, what about whether I should open a shop? Should I do it, and take the financial risk?
Animal Crackers, or what?