March 27 2015 Latest news:
I learned many years ago not to take any budget at face value while it is being delivered by whoever is the Chancellor of the Exchequer of the day.
Much excitement in Felixstowe this week, where I have a small flat with sea views distant, as news filtered through of a development Spa Pavilion-wise.
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.