Showing posts from March, 2014

Gwyneth Paltrow, Chris Martin and the Concious Uncoupling

I'm going to have to jump into the affray with the ridiculous terminology Gwyneth has assigned to her separation from Coldplay's Chris Martin.

You just know when you've heard an expression like concious uncoupling that it's been coined after a minimum of twelve weeks counselling. Most likely in a room overflowing with scented candles and where all the furniture faces east. You can also be pretty darn sure that when the terms of the conscious uncoupling have been agreed, the concious couple will have wound down with a "fun" yoga session and a dinner of spinach parcels and deep-fried Quorn.
Tasty. In a sort of bland vegetarian way.
Now, when I was vigorously researching this post (Daily Mail) I also stumbled upon this article at The New York Times. Apparently, the term concious uncoupling was not coined by Gwyneth but by a psychotherapist called Katherine Woodward Thomas who, at the time of being interviewed about her terminology, was hanging out at a spa and y…

A Classic Mrs T Moment

Yesterday, I had one of my "moments".

So the boys were nagging me for a McDonald's on the way back from a late-night tennis practice. So being a kind mother, we pulled into the drive-thru, ordered shakes and burgers, paid at the cash desk and pulled up at the delivery hatch. Whereupon, Master Ben requested that I asked for a sheet for him to stick on some stamps for a competition McDonald's are running to win various goodies. The assistant duly handed the sheet to me with the shakes and I hand them to Master Jacob who was sitting in the front seat.

Big mistake. Because Master Jacob has Master Ben's sheet and Master Ben has the stickers. They started to argue over who was going to stick on the stamps to win the Mini Cooper.  I closed the window, regretting I ever had children, and drove-off. After a while, Master Jacob finally relented and gave Master Ben his sheet. This is what happened next:

Master Jacob: Where's the burgers?

Mrs T: In your lap.

Master Jacob…

What is a Janerism?

So here's a question - what is a Janerism?

I'm not entirely sure. I'm somewhat confused. But apparently it's something I do a lot.

Now this description has been assigned to me by author, Karen Wyld, from my writer's group on Google +.

I'm slightly worried because the term reminds me of a Malapropism. Now if you've not heard of the term Malapropism before -basically it's derived from this mad old bag who was in Richard Sheridan's 1775 comedy The Rivals.

Again, I'm slightly worried.

Now, because I am a discreet and subtle person, there's not many pictures of me on the net. But I have this awful feeling that people think I look like this:

Or maybe they think I look like this:

Or maybe even this:

Okay, I want to be entirely honest with you folks. Because that's the way I am. And currently there's the big rush of people doing selfies for breast cancer. So I figure it's time I gave you an up to date photo of me. So here I am:

As I said…

I am an author!

So I was "kind of" an author before, but now I'm on Amazon it's official isn't it?

At present,A Modern Life is only available on Kindle but don't forget if you have a computer, tablet or mobile you can download a Kindle App and read it that way. It will be available on other e-readers and in paperback in due course.


A Modern Life on

A Modern Life on

Countdown to Publication

So recently, my ISBN (international standard book numbers) finally arrived. These are the numerical codes that identify individual books and generate the barcode that you see on the back of books. By assigning ISBN numbers to my books, it means they will appear in industry catalogues and be available for retailers to purchase. It's taken much longer to get this point than I imagined. However, it does mean that the publication of A Modern Life on Kindle is days rather than weeks away. It will follow shortly after on other e-readers and then in paperback in early April.

In between all the preparations (which being a bit brainless I had not thought through - like tax requirements, setting up a business, blah, blah, blah) I have written a new story which I am going to include as a last minute addition to my short story collection. It's called Pork Chops and Promiscuity and is about a lesbian called Judith who has a fondness for pork. Sounds daft, I know. And that's because it…

Happy In Luton

I live fairly near Luton, in fact some of my most embarrassing car-parking moments have been in Luton, nevertheless when I saw this on Facebook it brought a big, big, smile to my face. Enjoy!

Monster Images

I made the mistake a while ago of syncing the boys ipads with my computer using the icloud.

So, for anyone not familiar with Apple products, this means instead of plugging in the ipads to my computer to transfer songs, films and pictures it does it automatically. I've no idea how but it's genius. It also means I get to keep an eye on what the boys are doing in a Big Brother type of way.

Or maybe that's a Big Mother type of way.

*Looks at thighs*

Yeah, okay. It's a Big Mother type of way.

Now initially, I turned on the icloud because I was fed up of updating all our gadgets with our shared music which is stored on itunes. The Big Mother aspect only dawned on me when I started to get notifications of new photographs arriving on my computer.

These photographs were kinda shocking. (It's not what you're thinking.)

You know, I thought my Master Jacob was a handsome fella until he sent me this:

But not to out-done by his brother, Master Benedict sent me these:

Patience, Impatience and a Mission Statement

Now, I am sure you folks out there know how patient we Brits are about standing in queues. I'm not sure where all this patience originates from because personally I'd like to club some of the people standing in front of me in the supermarket queue. You know the ones - you've been standing in the queue for twenty minutes and the person in front of you announces they've forgotten something and heads off to the meat counter and doesn't return for ten minutes. Meanwhile, you're still standing in the queue watching the hands of your watch tick away like an unexploded bomb knowing that you've got pack, pay and repack the groceries into your car and drive across town pick up your kids in less than ten minutes.

Then, of course, when the customer finally returns from their sojourn they forlornly announce that the turkey mince they wanted for their cat wasn't supplied in a small enough quantities.

It is at this point that you grip the stick of French bread your h…