April 25 2015 Latest news:
As I approach the home straight of my sixth general election campaign, I really should be getting used to being treated like dirt by top politicians and their staff.
As we drive around the county, my plain-speaking-photographer friend Lucy and I spend a lot of time in the car.
Now I am bi-gran... or maybe not. It makes me sound like a new breakfast cereal that’s good for you but tastes like shredded cardboard.
I promised myself I wouldn’t become a baby bore. I have reneged on that promise.
The reckoning is ahead.
It’s that time of year when the only thing that seems appealing is a warm blanket and a snuggle on the sofa.
East Anglia is unquestionably the friendliest, loveliest place on earth.
I was looking forward to taking up my invitation from touring theatre company Eastern Angles to be a guest at their seasonal, musical comedy show The Mystery of St Finnigan’s Elbow, in Woodbridge.
Grandson George is now talking in words.
Looking forward to Christmas is a bit like being pregnant and not only because you’re likely to put on weight, have a craving for chestnut stuffing and the gunpowder smell of crackers exploding.