The Real Sunday Roast is a b*tch.

The Real Sunday Roast is a b*tch.

Growing up, Sundays were all about roasts in our house. Everything we did that day revolved around what time the Lamb needed to go in. My Mum’s roasties were (and still are) the best. As we got older, my brother and I *might* help peel the veg, or make the...
A short rant about: Pies

A short rant about: Pies

Dear pie-makers of Britain. What has become of you?  Cue nostalgic music and fuzzy black and white olden days footage from days of ‘yore. Whatever they are. Once upon a pie, I would marvel at my dinner standing upright on its plate all on its own, and savour the...
Settling in, moving on.

Settling in, moving on.

Here I am with a nice hot coffee, in a comfy chair in an average coffee shop. Happy days… But my buggy is missing. Well, more to the point, the baby isn’t with me. I say baby, but she’s nearly one. Does that still count? And all of a sudden,...
Go Go… Go Go… Grown-Up Jetters!

Go Go… Go Go… Grown-Up Jetters!

This morning I tweeted the fact that I sang the CBeebies Go Jetters theme tune for the entire length of my shower, without realising until afterwards. That is, all 3 minutes and 45 seconds of my shower – I have two small people after all. I mean, I do have a lot...

TV Producer. Baby Producer. Blog Producer.