Now just the thoughts of me and not my dog until I can persuade Husband we should get another.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Yet again the best laid plans ...
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
We haven't had enough to eat ...


Monday, December 27, 2010
Religion and me
Sunday, December 26, 2010
It's a hard job but someone had to do it
Or rather the feast of St Stephen
And to Boxing Day
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Our Christmas day



My best Christmas present
Friday, December 24, 2010
It's Christmas Eve!
A good way to start the day
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Frightening myself with my efficiency
Bah humbug? Not me
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Zac's Christmas party
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Recipe for indigestion

Saturday, December 18, 2010
The difference between men and women

Christmas has been delayed
Friday, December 17, 2010
The nonagenarian - and his nephew



Good news to share


Big tongue syndrome
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Will Christmas come early? Or will snow delay it?
Airs and graces
I'm sorry for complaining, ducky
And it calls itself a newspaper
My boys dun good
I needed help. My life was in a mess and there was nothing I could do about it. I was an alcoholic and I’d spent the last 25 years of my life in and out of prison. I began to talk to the Samaritans, managed to get the help I needed. I went through the AA 12 steps programme and I got clean. I was so grateful I wanted to start giving something back to the community that I’d taken from for so long. I helped on soup runs, feeding the homeless. Things were going good for me.
Then my dad died. He’d been more than a father to me; he’d been more like my best friend. I could tell him anything and we talked everyday. Until he died.
I went back on the booze. The only thing that helped me from giving up all together was that I had to stay fit to look after my young son. But Christmas was the worst. I’d grown up in a large family and Christmas had always been special. We’d read the story in the bible and go to midnight mass. My dad had taught me the real meaning of Christmas and I missed him so much. That year I just about managed to get through the day while I had my son with me. In the evening, when he’d gone, I went up to the cemetery to talk to my dad. I woke up next morning lying on my dad’s grave, an empty whisky bottle in my hand.
And now I'm back in here. And in prison I have a choice: I can stay in my cell and do nothing or I can try and sort out my behaviour.
I've got to make the right choice, for my son’s sake.
Lovely? I don't think so.
I'm not dead
Monday, December 13, 2010
What am I doing blogging at this time of the morning when i should be sleeping?
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Eating out and then some more
Maltesers and G cups
Friday, December 10, 2010
Student protests: the good and the bad
Thursday, December 09, 2010
'Armless
Isn't she beautiful?
But is it gold?


The trouble with libraries is ...
Bloodsucking fiends
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Trying to blog while watching Lethal Weapon 4
She's snuggled down safely in bed at the moment but she isn't a good sleeper so I'm on tenterhooks, sitting next to the monitor and wondering if I'll disturb her if I go upstairs to make sure it's working properly.