Once Upon a Time My Work WAS a Part of the International School Curriculi.

There is nothing better than dearly beloveds to bring you down to earth.

A son and his two parents spent ages this morning bickering about wood burner and being cold. Himself went all Alpha and announced his Bear Grylls capabilities.

Cough. The fire lasted less than 3 minutes. So he gave up. I harummpphheedd and said I’d collect twigs from the garden for kindling and use some white spirit.

Son told us both to just shut up and he’d light the fire. Then his parents descended into a tit-for-tat bitch-sesh and my not earning any money came up again.

So I proclaimed :



I’m A Student Handout!

I found out something totally amazing today!

An article I wrote, called The Smell of the Middle Ages by Jacquelyn Hodson (my posh name), is being used in Californian schools as a study handout in their Humanities and Science programme. Eeek!

It is also listed as a Medieval study subject for the Moses Lake School, WA in America…

It has been read 842 times on the Society for Creative Anachronism website…

In May 2004 it was voted Site of the Month on The Gode Cookery pages…

And it is currently the second most popular Medieval link on the Legio Draconis: Art of Combat site.

The piece was originally written for Tamara Mazzei the founder of Trivium Publishing whom I was lucky enough to spend the day with in Lincoln and at Bolingbroke Castle in 2002. She kindly posted it on her new publishing website that year and I thought little more about it.


Seven years on and that little piece now has a life of its own. I’m so proud!

Thank you Tamara :o)

Forgive me for tooting my own trumpet but I knew none of this until today.


So how did you earn for that, then, eh? was the question.

Uuurm. Nothing.

Sulk o(

Handbags & Gladrags

I LOVE this song.

‘Specially the Stereophonics version. My boys will tell you. I might’ve played it a bit too loud, a bit too often.

I’m not a fan of rod Stewart but props for this song.

The handbags and the gladrags
That your poor old granddad
Had to sweat to buy you, baby

Paternal grandad, Sam, was a tanner by trade.

Maternal step-grandad (didn’t know the real one, Clarence) was called George. A steel-worker by trade.

I asked for not a penny when they were alive and got not a penny when they died.

I have a wonderful cardboard box full of old photos of them though.

Money comes and goes. Memories are everlasting.

P.S. I’ve worn Armani suits, Manolo Blahnik shoes. Carried a Chanel handbag. That I HAD WORKED TO PAY FOR.

They mean NOTHING to me now.



Lily was my paternal grandmother. Born and bred in the Gorbels of Glasgow.

But this goes deeper than that.

I was 20 years old before I knew what these were :

1 A prostitute

2 A transvestite

I learned one day on the Ku’Damm in Berlin, caught in a traffic jam on duty as an RMP, when the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen started talking.

I said to Mick – my oppo – Oh. Wow. She has a very deep voice.

Absolute truth.

This is why I find Lily Savage so funny. She reminds me of the trannies on the Kurfürstendamm in Berlin and the time that my all male platoon took me to the Poof-Poof Club for a night out.

To this day I don’t understand why they wore those gas masks with the long hose in porn films.

STEEP learning curve :o)

Ruy Lopez Opening : My World!

Ah! Compliments.

You’re looking radiant today, darling

WTF? After 3 nights of disjointed sleep.

You could pass for a teenager with those long, luscious legs

Don’t give me that gorgeous smile of yours every time you say something bad

I Know Him So Well!!!!

P.S. I have a headache and it’s not Christmas yet, love.


P.P.S. This song is from CHESS. Much of which was co-written by Benny and Bjorn. The two B’s in Abba.

Beam Me Up, SNOTTY

John Sullivan’s words, as delivered by Delboy, are now a huge part of our language here.

The one in the title is a personal favourite.

Going back a day – the law of SOD is still operating.

I just sent a polite snot-o-gram to an ebay seller I’ve used many times saying that I’ve not received my order. It’s 5 days late.

Ten minutes later I open the back door to hang out the washing and there is a parcel on the doorstep. MY PARCEL.

WTF? The front door was wide open so the postie snuck around the side and silently placed it there……on purpose. Because why ?


I’m in the process of drafting a Victorian reform dress in the style of the Aesthetic Movement as championed by Oscar Wilde, of all people.

The artistic, aesthetic, dress reform movement was all for beautifully draped, embellished and free clothing. A fashion anarchy against the corsets and bustles and strait-jacket-rigours of the usual Victorian clothes.

Many gift the likes of Chanel with freeing women from the shackles of whalebone and bustle and crinoline. Few know about Wilde’s contribution.

Yeah. Beam me up, Snotty indeed.


Take On Me (?)

I have such vivid memories of the first time that I heard this song. We’d just moved to Chichester. In those 2 years there, on the Roussillon Barracks Training Camp, quite a bit happened.

1986 – Ukraine got GOT by something nuke-you-lar. Oh. Another boring roundabout story.

1987 – BBC Weather ASSURED us that there was NO HURRICANE coming to England. Absolute fact.

Yeah. I’ve never believed a weather person since. We were trapped inside the barracks by huge old trees all over the place.

Boyce doing A-Ha.

Alcohol Warning – NEVER drink Russian Vodka in a Russian Hotel in East Berlin. Been there. Done that. No wonder they call it a SHOT. I was dead the next day!!!

Posture : Nothing Is as Simple as we Think

For some reason (?) the subject of posture has been relevant here for several days.

It began when eldest son stood up straight as…and I went to hug him. My head fit perfectly under his armpit. Oooh.

Then I watched a yt video about fitting a Victorian dress toile and was told that all original Historical Garments have the shoulder seams so far back that they will now lie behind a modern shoulder. ‘Cos we are lazy slumps.

I listened to a Miss Marple (Agatha Christie) book and was told that Jane Marple spent her girl hood school years using a back board to straighten her posture.

I’ve studied the Alexander Technique which teaches us to imagine a thread coming out of the very centre of our cranium and pulling the neck up and the chin level. The shoulders then automatically fall into place. Well. They should. But we have had our skeletal nature disformed by modern gadgets.

A head weighs – urm – a lot. And today we are all slumped/hunched, head forward, eyes on a screen etc.

I’ve always suffered from bad headaches/migraines. As a teenager I was once laughed at for my straight posture. Look at any dancer. Straight and aligned.

Himself gives me unexpected shoulder massages most days. My language can get fruity because of the pain involved but…..they are very welcome. In a strange way (!)

Sewing is a posture crippler and I’m all too aware of the fake history about Richard the Third.





I’ll do what THE THEY do and LIE my arse off.

I DID NOT just cry my heart out. Nope. Not me.


One good and bright and happy day and…….phfffftslushdraingurgle.



Truly – WHY?

I’m scrubbed and banned again. Deleted. Wiped out. Never existed. A total NON-person.

Truth will out.

Sadly :o(

Man Friday vs Girl Monday

I was told this morning that my Girl Monday rang here last night – in a pickle.

She was truly worried that I didn’t want her to come here every week.

I literally fell into the chair in astonishment.

Apparently – I have been distant and cold recently.

OK. Hands up. Yes.

But I love her to bits. When we get together we can destroy a male of the species in 3 seconds with a handful of words. Who’d not love a mate like that? ? ?

I need to apologise and explain. My bad. Not her’s.

Bewildered Sadness

Finding myself still totally banned from a revered yt truther channel has left me…sadly bewildered. 3 years on? I must be either totally disgusting or nowhere near good enough.


I left a comment this morning on an overnight video about Crimea.

Crimea has been a centuries long sticking point between powers because of it’s strategic position.

tI was vital to both the Byzantine empire and the Ukraine. All I commented was – 1613 the Romanov come to power. 1775 the last Tartar Khan is murdered. And still they are fighting over there.



Moscow Tartary spanned the Urals, Siberia, Central Asia, The Far East, Alaska and North America. The conflict between Moscow Tartary and Romanov Russia (originally small in size) ended in the second half of the XVIII century with the famous, allegedly ‘peasant’, war against ‘Pugachev’. The Romanovs succeeded in agreeing peace separately with Turkey and defeating the Great Tartary. Only after this the European emigrants who had settled on the Atlantic seaboard of North America, ventured West, inland over the continent. For decades they seized the North-American territories of Moscow Tartary left without any governmental authority. Today this has been beautifully, but incorrectly narrated on in the Hollywood movies about ‘the very noble’ white frontiersmen and the ‘very bad’ Indians.

As a result, in 1776 (straight after the defeat of ‘Pugachev’) the United States of America emerged. With the Romanovs they voraciously and speedily sliced and diced the vast territories of Moscow Tartary. Ural, Siberia, the Far East. In America – Alaska and Oregon was ceded to the Romanovs. The rest of North America – to the USA. After failing to maintain these bountiful lands, distant from St.Petersburg, and unwilling to obey the usurpers, both Oregon and Alaska were given away to the USA for a notably paltry sum. The very fact of the existence of Moscow Tartary up to the end of the XVIII century and the division of its vast territories between the conquerors was wiped clean from the history textbooks – both in the Old and the New Worlds. Up until now the native Russian population of America is being persistently forced to forget their language and their past.


Pugachev was (allegedly) a scarecrow, peasant who rebelled against his betters and deserved his execution in January 1775.

The Last Tartar Khan was beheaded and then drawn and quartered. Oooh. The Romanov did NOT like him, eh?

HIT ME : Weed

He, to this day, still can’t remember us in London at New Year going to a cinema just off Trafalgar Square to watch this film.

I remember. Clearly. Behind us was an entire family and as the film started one of them dropped their mobile phone. Under my seat. Lights down, film rolling. ME standing up as about 10 people searched for the stupid phone.

He doesn’t even remember afterwards when we went to a tiny Italian restaurant for dinner and he ordered fishy linguine and/or how much crap I spat at him for ruining my own meal with a very fishy smell.

A few years later….time travel via Paul…and after a weekend he’d spent with his bezzie mate in Amsterdam (!?!) – his sister’s daughter had bought her mother two big spliffs from Cardiff via her best mate’s Dad.

Stay with me here, please ?

So. One weekend my traveller-in-crime came to stay with us for a few days (without her husband – father of said daughter )- who was then a serving South Wales Policeperson.

Neither she nor me had EVER done the Ganji thing. But Himself warned us.

You get the giggles. Then the munchies. Then fall asleep.

We larfed at him and said No Way, Pedro.

The three of us didn’t even finish one whole W.H. Spliffs.

To this day a bag of Tesco pretzels (the munchies vibe) are called Strepsils :o)


D’ya’all know this painful truth?

Not One Single Person in your life will ever thank you for warning them of danger.

No. No. Say they. YOU are wrong/stupid/deluded/unworthy/mad/talking nonsense.

NEVER EVER try to warn another of potential danger. Even when they come to you for advice.

And especially when you give unsolicited advice.

Honest to God. It’s totally pointless and deeply hurtful to carry the wounds of a loving warning.

But hey. We have Free Will. What most don’t appreciate is that Free Will is ALWAYS trumped by DIVINE LAW.

I learned the hard way. Keep your own counsel and STFU.


Mixed Up History

I blame myself :o(

Last night I listening to Phil Rickman’s latest and Pagan Jane (daughter of Anglican Deliverance Minister, Merrily) had talked Gomer Parry into taking her to the Queen Stone in Goodrich.

Jane and Gomer (a brilliant character) talk a lot about The Wicker Man Film and Druids and Alfred Watkins of Ley Line fame and Pagans and Blood Sacrifice and…..I had to connect the dots.

OK. I’ve looked into Druids. They have a get-out-clause in history. As in – they kept NO WRITTEN RECORDS. Everything was oral. Like Bards. Mmmmn!

The Wicker Man was made of wood so NO examples survive in archaeology. Convenient.

Blood Sacrifice – Just look into Dracula and Elizabeth Bathory and understand how we’ve ALL been led to believe that we’d wilfully do this. I think not. Talk to any sane War Vet and ask him if he “got off” on killing or bleeding half to death.

Much of what we are spoon-fed via media today is (IMHO) a 19th century invention.

I’ve NEVER liked the Victorians. Pious Creeps.

Before you call me out – Yes. We Scots have a blood soaked history but think about this strange thing….

Somerled was Lord of the Isles.

Christopher Lee is on record as saying that this was his favourite role – playing LORD SUMMERISLE.

Shrug. My mind works in mysterious ways. But then I’m of Clan Gregor and Clan DONALD!

The Scold’s Bridle Times 2

I’d’ve been made to wear this – if was real historical fact.

Yeh. I’m what we call here…a bit gobby. As in say stuff that no one wants to hear.


I’ve read the book, seen the TV adaptation (Miranda Richardson aka Queenie in Blackadder)

A world of hurt and silence aka STFU, Jackie.

Once more. Same as before.

That’s why I’m banned from speaking in the yt troother community.

The Trouble With Buying Online

Over the past couple of months my online fabric buys have been pretty good.

ebay. Cheaper than a shop.

But the image above is my first mistake.

IRL – the fabric is a disgusting shade of pale orange/beige/yuk.

I spent a few years as a retailer (owning a real, physical shop) dealing in fabric and yarn and clothes and art and jewellery so I KNOW the difference between wholesale and retail.

Buy quite a lot, quite cheap from a wholesaler who has massive stocks and you’ll get an RRP.

Recommended Retail Price. I used to shave a bit off the RRP to give my customers good value.

They still complained. Especially when buying anything that I’d handmade with mine own fair hands!!!

Caveat Emptor. Buyer Beware.

A computer will NEVER give you the TRUE feel or colour or scent or taste or voice.


P.S. This disgusting fabric is natural cotton… so I can dye it. YAY :o)

How To Start & Build a LIE

It started for me in 2018. I’d spent almost a year watching videos by certain yt creators. Then I joined the “trooth” community via FEB in January 2019

Stuff went viral. See image above.

Woohoooooo! Not :o(

I was given the label of Desperate Chick on yt in search of a babe.

It got so much worse from there. Banned. Trolled. Insulted. Threatened. Humiliated. Ignored. Ghosted. Blocked. Demonised. Hated. Patreon account destroyed. New website destroyed. Work destroyed.

Some of ’em even quoted MY OWN WORK at me and called me evil.

Y’all can see how my life turned from a respected writer to a toxic know-nothing nobody.


Here’s what I’m still seen as all these years later …A Desperate Housewife.

Yay. That’s me. Married to the same man since 1483 and now searching for a yt boy toy.


I Know Him So Well!

We watched Bailey this morning. She did a Murder,Monday,Make-Up show about Julia Tofana and Aqua Tofana… 17th century Italian gal.

Check out Bailey Sarian and/or Aqua Tofana.

I couldn’t help myself. I planted about 3 foxgloves in the garden 12 years ago. They are now sprouting up everywhere.


Foxglove. Digitalis.

Work it out!

All day I have been offering to make him a cup of tea.

If this makes no sense – you’re neither a gardener nor an Agatha Christie fan.

I KNOW HIM SO WELL toon……but not as y’all know it.

b flat.

Happy Bank Holiday : Talk of the Town

It’s all so confusing!

Yesterday was Sunday and a birthday. Nice day.

Today is May Bank Holiday and it feels like a Sunday. We had lots to do but had to check who and what was open for business.

Well. Tesco was open.

Song of Today.

And yes, I sang along, along the fresh vegetable aisle.

Why do people do handbrake trolley turns and go down another aisle? Why?

Forever Amber

Along with Katherine by Anya Seton, this is another of the books that I nicked from my mother and devoured.

I remember asking her (aged 12) if Amber St. Clare had been a real person. Mum kinda finagled an answer and fled. Which was sweet. She could not explain to me what a WHORE was when I was that young. She saved me the horror!

Who the hecking hell is Amber (I’ve never) Heard (of her before) ? ? ?

Turning Japanese!

The Tove Jansson Tablier Japanese pattern. I’ve mentioned it before.

I take back everything that I might’ve uttered against FedEx. From Kyoto to Lincolnshire in 5 days.

The amazing linen fabric arrived yesterday.

So I started the whole thing around 6am this morning. We are now gone 2pm and I’ve stitched and ripped three times.

I keep blaming the fact that the pattern is an English translation of Japanese.

My stupid.

I’m just having to stop doing what I “know” and LEARN a different way to construct.

P.S. It’s still all back to front and outside in and too complicated.

NOT :o)

Lute of the Frome

Poor Lol.

That’s Laurence Robinson, Merrily Watkins lover. He’s a musician with issues and in Fabric of Sin his biggest issue is the unholy destruction of his prized Boswell guitar by paid thugs.

The “Boswell” is a lovingly created guitar from the hands of Al Boswell who treats each instrument as a child of his loins.

The guitar cost Lol £4,000. (The book was written in the late ’90’s, early 2000’s if I remember correctly)

Boswell’s guitar making business is called – The Lute of the Frome.

Frome pronounced FROOM.

Can’t make this shit up. Catch me if you can :o)

The Perfect Murder

It has taken me over 3 years to figure this “plot” out.

A perfect murder – with no body, no fingerprints, no connections, a cast of 10’s of thousands and a whole ocean between them.

Whodunnit + Howdunnit + Whydunnit?

It’s beyond perfect. The murderer is squeaky clean and utterly adored. The victim has lost their livelihood, their reputation, their friends, their mentor, their future, their mind.

A very long short story :o)

Why Size Matters!

This is all a little bit phallic but then – what isn’t.

I lived in the Burj Khalifa for a while. We had “the Leeloo Dallas Multi-Pass” that’d take us up to….right up to there. But NOT the top. Thank Goodness!!!!!

He knew that I was a bit squiffy about heights but I girded my girdle and went. UP!

Yay. Great view. Can we leave now!

I blame Euclid.

Another Oh. Hello. Y’eh.

I much prefer BooksLikeWhoa but whatever……!

True Story : Himself was confronted by two women in a car. The driver was slightly miffed about the traffic diversions…as she told him in an extremely posh & polite voice. The passenger ranted and said the CeeYouNextTuesday word. The driver said…..Really, Mother. Do you HAVE to swear?

Just saying ;o)

The Myth of Unconditional Love

Sadly : I have to agree that this is a MYTH.

Much as I want to embrace the concept, this is impossible.

I say that I love my boys unconditionally but that’s not altogether true. What about boundaries?

Some of the stuff that kids do is horrible. They have to be taught boundaries. Right from wrong. Good from Bad.

How many parent/child conversations begin with – If you EVER do that again……?

Romantic relationships too. What if you are hooked up with a sex addict and you’ve had an horrendous day, he’s been thoughtless and shiftless and a total dickhead but come bedtime he wants the works?

Boundaries. You say : You’ve been a arse all day so GFU!

BFF tells you a huge, whopping, obvious lie. You’ll think twice before trusting them again.

To Err Is Human. To Forgive Is Divine.

And then you are born with that nasty Highlander Gene that NEVER forgets an insult.


We are all faulted. Imperfect. Unpredictable. Totally Annoying.


Or is that just me?


Make-Up & Murder

OK. I’ve watched a couple of Danielle’s videos and was slightly opened mouthed as she narrated some truly horrific murders whilst putting her make-up on.

This seems to be a new(ish) trend. That I’ve only just stumbled across.

If she wasn’t so articulate and capable at the true crime bit, I’d’ve switched off after 10 seconds.

Jeesh. I’m feeling like my parents did the first time they saw Boy George on Top of the Pops.

What the bloody hell is THAT?

Closest of the Close

Outside of our families who – if we are truthful – can sometimes be a bit of a handful (?) … the closest and most needed people in our lives are what we call “Friends.”

If we are lucky we will have a group of life-long friends who come and go about their own lives but we know that they are always there for us.

I once thought I had a friend, so close to me that we were almost like twins.

But I was wrong. That friend left at the first sight of trouble on the horizon.

This song – to me – is not just about the spiritual. It’s more about the physical.

Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

I’m so lucky that my two brothers are also my friends. We’ve been through so much together that we have an unbreakable bond.

What is that old saying?

We can choose our friends, but not our family.

I Chose Wrong :o(

My bad.

The Art of Dressing in the 14th Century

I will admit that I’m the worst at this stuff. I’ll grab whatever is handy and fling it on for daily around the house stuff.

I’m also guilty of sometimes having a floor-drobe as opposed to a wardrobe.

Time is short and I’m usually thinking through this day’s jobs – the getting dressed bit is just automatic.

Not so centuries ago. Dressing ones’ self was an art and took time. Especially if you lived in countries like Elin below.

She’s in Sweden.

I’m a huge fan of layering but this is quite OTT???

Pride in One’s Own Achievements

Self-pride can be a really unattractive thing sometimes.

But I’m going to indulge myself in it.

OK. The dress is only half finished but….hecking hobbits….I’m soooo proud of myself.

Not bad for a girl who has not made a single clothe for nearly 2 decades and only started this at 7pm this morning.

And yes. It was once a linen bed sheet. Who needs Armani or Chanel or La Croix?

Smug as …


I Can Forgive a Thief but NEVER a Liar

My Dad was an empath. It’s what made him such a brilliant policeperson.

When I once lied to him about who broke his favourite mug he said ……. I can forgive a thief but NEVER a liar.

I am my father’s daughter.

Liars are the most Heinous of people.

Their reasons for lying mean NOTHING.

Yes. We sometimes twist the truth to save another person. I’ve done that.

But I don’t lie about who I am or what I think and feel. I’m labelled as TACTLESS, CRUEL, BITCHY.


Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies ? ? ?

And I WILL NOT tolerate you. You WILL cease to exist in my world at worst. At best – I’ll watch your every word forever. Even if I love you to the bones and back again.

Sad but true.

The Brit Chinese Takeaway

Is soooooo expensive now but…

Once in a Blue Moon we treat ourselves. And this Friday night will be Chinese Night.

Me and him are so predictable.

Him : Prawn Curry (no onions) Special Fried Rice, Chips.

ME : Beef Chow Mein, Fried Rice, Chips, Curry Sauce.

The boys are weird and unpredictable but somewhere along the line we get Chicken Balls with Sweet and Sour Sauce.

When I was pregnant with Dan….Sweet and Sour Chicken Balls from Harmony Hill were my go to. After ginger nut biscuits and apples. I had 8 months of Morning (all day) sickness.

My earliest early childhood was full of Chinese food in Singapore. Mother made the best Nasi Goreng ever.

Real Chinese peeps HATE Brit Chinese Food.

Yuh, whatever.

Future prediction…Saturday morning I will be learning how to make a Victorian Corset to hold in the multiple body wobbles. Hai wike noodwles :o)

Inevitably Inevitable


Olga of Kiev.


I will not travel down that road WELL travelled here over the past 4 years.

The Kievan Rus were always “Christian.” The Russian Primary Chronicle is FAKE.

BTW – Olga was supposedly Varangian. Varangian IS Viking. How many times is this rut going to be trodden?

Sorry, TeaTimeHistory but I ain’t doing Virtue Signals today.

I’ve actually been around starving people in the streets. Even when you put cold, hard cash in their hands, some thief will kill them for it. Sadly.

Sending money to an unknown bank account is much the same but far less bloody.

Jeez – I’m so very cynical nowadays.

Vicarious Filth

Dear Mum….SHE said them. Not me.

D’y’all think I can get away with that? From a Mother who slapped me around the ear the very first time I said BLOODY in front of her?

BTW : Apart from the mildest of bloody buggering cusses, my parents NEVER swore in front of us kids.

The F-Word?

That was Flipping. They even called a F-art a Trump.


and I’ll C U Next Tuesday :o)

This girl is such a CX%^W£NY^&(*)%E!

I Have 2 Speeds When I Drive…!

No. 1

Christian – as my son calls it.

Mother – you’ve kept to the exact speed limit and then just let all those people push in front and smiled at them. Bloody Christian Driver, you.


And then there’s My Robert Louis Stevenson Mrs Hyde driving persona.

A bit like this person below.

P.S. LOVE THAT SONG–No, no. No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no. There’s NO LIMIT.

Hey. Just being honest. I’m a girl. I have mood swings


The Dissers Disrespect EVERYONE

Having spent the last few days amongst some wonderfully uplifting and joyful people, I’ve come to realise that the pain of the last 4 years has been ALL MY FAULT.

I actually stayed and engaged. WTF?


Where was my one brain cell all this time?

What was I trying to do?

The yt truther community was already thoroughly pissed upon long ago – ALL marked out into the various factions and alliances and closed, secret societies. There was NEVER gonna be a millimetre of space for the likes of me. And maybe you, too. We had no knowledge of their mystical symbols and signs and handshakes and humiliation rituals.

The same people always show up exactly on time. Do and say the same things over and over and over and totally destroy anyone from “outside” their cosy enclave where all is shit but comfortable and familiar and sweet and extremely Disney Vault FantasiaLand.

The barriers are set and unbreakable. The secrets are held close inside. Us people “from off” are only allowed to see the FAKE light and FAKE joy and FAKE happy.

God help those of us who IMMEDIATELY saw beyond the B.S. and called it out for what it is. Because we will always be put on the Road to Hell with all the sulphur and smoke and pitchforks up the arse that they can muster.

Sad but true.

Sugar scented urine must protect their fragile little bubbles, yes?

When You Have Eliminated The Impossible : Mad Woman in the Attic

Many, many years ago when my boys were young, I cursed them with the promise that I’d get my own back on their antics by living a very long life.

Mmmn. I see my future now. One or both will take pity on me (eventually) and hide me in an attic, well away from my great grandchildren – LOL :o)

Once you have eliminated the impossible – So. I’m NOT right and everyone else is wrong. Tick.

Whatever remains, no matter how improbable – See sentence above (!)

Must be the TRUTH. Tick.

Yay! Got it. I’m MAD and everyone else is totally sane. Tick.

Oh. Poop :o(

P.S. Having just dissed the Victorians…I’m stunned that I know so much Victorian Literature. Go figure.