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I suppose you could say that as a YID, Tottenham Hotspur was always going to be my team. Ok I know that calling my self a YID is sententious, tendentious and a tad contentious, but like Bagels I am a product of the East End of London, and though being called a YID was both … Read more

Is there anything worse than a greedy person? Greedy people that have a lot and don’t want anybody else to have even a wee bit of it. Greedy people who own houses and yachts but can’t find it in their hearts to give away even one part of it to poor people who have nothing. … Read more

So fatootsed am I that I missed a party I was looking forward to for a month, so discombobulated am I that my God-daughters’ mum came, she had nowhere to sleep so the dawter decided to stay at her Godmothers’ so she could free her bed up. She was happy to stay 16 miles away, … Read more

Some years ago I bought the old git an air rifle. Not that either of us are into killing squirrels, rabbits or pigeons, it was more of a recreational nod at his past, since being a Northern lad his community thought nothing of leaving the mill and wandering the moors to bag their dinner. “Where’s … Read more

Six o’clock was the time to settle down for a couple of hours of news. The BBC, ITV, Channel four, all with their version of events. Not any more. I cannot watch reports from around the world without crying. I am not an historian, politician or commentator, I am merely an old lady who gives … Read more

If you stand still long enough the conveyer belt of life comes round – a bit like The ‘Generation Game’. If you stand still and concentrate you may remember the items of your life. The pink eiderdown, the kitchen cabinet, the green half-moon rug. On Tuesday I had a zoom cocktail hour with four people, … Read more

I’ve had many an unusual therapy in my life but this morning took the biscuit – gluten free of course. I am in the process of setting up a podcast. With the help of some extraordinary people and my family, a podcast is being shaped and organised. Part of the podcast will be introducing the … Read more

I’m sure you know that in Norway they’re building kindergartens next to old peoples homes. A perfect combination of wisdom and grace. We have a similar set up here in the Publet. Two white haired individuals living next to a three year old who wants to play ball, hide under the swing set, nick the … Read more

So Bolsonaro has had hiccups for ten days, they have hospitalised the father of the rain forest waiting to cut him open. His inability to speak for a fortnight may just save an inch or two of the Amazon. Seeing the bloated Brazilian immobilised on a gurney felt like some kind of retribution. Not to … Read more

The dawter must have been about three. She was given a pink helium balloon, magical and girly. We expressly told her to hold onto the shiny string because if she let it go it would fly up, up and away. Her little fingers grasped that string with the might of a thirty three year old. … Read more