The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do…

There’s no other way to say this: Yesterday, I felt completely wretched. Not a little bit discombobulated, or run-of the mill unhappy or mildly depressed, but truly wretched, in the most conspicuous-wailing, red-eyed-and-sodden-faced kind of way.

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A Jewish Mother’s Lament

Morning loyal followers (er, hi Mum, hi Dad!)

You may have noticed I gave myself a week-long blog-break last week, mostly because I was HYSTERICAL and beside myself after adopting another staffy (now I’m mother to Tiggy and Sherman – so named because he’s built like a tank).

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Sherman and Tiggy, my devil-children.

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Someone else’s embarrassing flashback

It was the early ’90s. I was at a friend’s Batmitzvah and I was sat at a table full of very pleasant girls, one of whom could not get over the outfit another of the guests was wearing.

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On being funny-looking

For as long as I can remember, I’ve thought I was funny-looking.

I’m not the only one. The second she clapped eyes on me, Tutti, thought I was pretty funny-looking too. And once she realised that any criticism of her new baby sent The Goat into paroxysms of rage, my chicken-legs and I had no chance at all.

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