Monthly Archives: September 2007

Back in the nineteen-eighties the buzz word among social action broadcasters was Women Returners. These were the women who’d taken time out to raise their families, and were now trying to worm their way back into a workforce reluctant to … Continue reading →

So – just one day after the old boiler is serviced, it stops working. Mike runs a bath for the children. We’ve given up checking the temperature for them. They can do that themselves. And they do, with their feet. … Continue reading →

I seem to have forgotten how to swear. I used to work in a newsroom, where four-letter words are what you use when your log-in won’t work, when the kettle’s broken, when an interview falls down, or when there’s a … Continue reading →

We finally got around to calling a Corgi man to service the boiler, in an effort to tempt hot water all the way up to the radiators on the top floor – obviously only from November when all right-thinking people … Continue reading →

Lots of working mothers apparently feel they need to lie, if they’re late for work because of childcare problems. A survey of 1,500 working mothers by The Family Care Company found that half would prefer to blame traffic or a … Continue reading →

I thought we were almost through the impossible questions stage. I’ve spent many years answering things like – “Why is air see-though?” “Do flies have ears?” “Can God fly?” And I thought they were getting old enough to realise I … Continue reading →

Still six weeks to go and it’s already cold. Six weeks to go until we can switch on the central heating. At least that’s what Mike reckons. “We can’t turn it on until November,” he says, “that would be admitting … Continue reading →

Is there any more dispiriting sound than the theme tune to Bella Dancerella? The nodding numpty with the saccharine smile, whose entreaties to join in with Bella Ballet (with the accent on the final syllable, I ask you) is enough … Continue reading →

Here’s a dog box… It’s currently got a dog in it, but imagine me sitting in there. That’s my metaphorical position in our household. Apparently when Mike went hashing this week, it transpired that one or more of the hashers … Continue reading →

When do you become too old? I guess it depends what you’re talking about. Too old to be a catwalk model is a little different from too old to be a high court judge. But what about taking up a … Continue reading →