Category Archives: Uncategorized
Post Script: Ironing
Of course, the act of ironing something, whether it be your husband’s underpants or your own office-ready corporate cuffed shirt, isn’t actually related to feminism or feminist ideals in any real sense. Because you can iron, and be a feminist, … Continue reading
Ironing is not feminist
School has started back and the air is a bit biting and everyone has resting bitch-faces and streamy eyes, from the cold wind and the desperate effort to hide their sadness at the slow death of summer. And the terrible … Continue reading
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Gozo
We are in Gozo! No one actually knows where that is. It is a tiny island off Malta, and Malta is close to Sicily. It takes half an hour to drive across the island, though you wouldn’t be able to … Continue reading
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Scooter troubles
It’s the first week of the holidays and mostly it is just lovely. The calm mornings, no homework, no school lunches to make, late evenings in the garden running under the sprinklers and eating toast and jam last thing before … Continue reading
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Morning face
[Disclaimer: Everyone is actually very nice, and I love them and it’s ok, no one is actually in real danger and I think my husband is a good man and the children will turn out fine, most probably. It’s just … Continue reading
Luminous
Last night, Mark and I were invited to a Fawlty Towers things at the Charing Cross Hotel by some lovely friends of ours who were having a birthday. Not my usual cup of tea but anyhoo, we arrived and had … Continue reading
Toothbrush of Shame (take 2)
Sometimes my parenting reaches new levels of aceness. See, for example, last week’s Tale of the Toothbrush of Shame – I wish I had been secretly filmed by a documentary crew with really good lighting technicians so I could play … Continue reading
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Magic has been at it again – embarrassing the family and turning our thoughts to the mythical farmer who could take him away and put him to genteel work on a farm where he could play games with other kind … Continue reading
Sweet Camp Virginity
This morning, the dog ate a baby turd, and the children cried. It was just way too much for them to bear. And then Magic sauntered on over them, presumably for a loving lick, and they screamed and hid. I … Continue reading
In Which I Declare My Self-Love
It is half-term, and we have been in Wales getting a sprinkling of half-arsed sunburn, in that northern-hemisphere kind of way. It was gorgeous and lovely, and we had excellent company. And I will get to that, but first. Here’s … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Amanda Blue, Caitlin Moran, Glosswitch, Hollie McNish, The New Statesman
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The Harridan 