My Nanny and Grandpa are being held hostage by a weird-looking scarecrow-man called BoJo.
Any of my young friends out there have too many grandparents? Do you want to share?
I have a Nanny and a Grandpa and I love them very much, but I miss them. I want a Grandma to play with my legos and watch swooshy lightsabers with me. I really want to play in the sand and the sea with a Grandad.
I want my Nanny and Grandpa, but I’ll make do with a Grandma and Grandad.
I need your help.
My Nanny and Grandpa are…
When you are at a breaking point, it is sometimes harder to accept help than keep pushing through. Even when the breaking point has passed and you’ve broken, it is still hard to accept help when it is offered.
There are times, for all of us, when we need a little help. Sometimes it’s emotional support, and other times we need a bit of physical assistance. We don’t always recognise when we are ready to snap or crumble under pressure, but something has to give. …
“Oh, God! Not another article about how to conquer writer’s block. Surely, we’ve covered all the angles now.”
I heard that as soon as you saw the title. There are dozens of articles all saying the same things, and I have never found them very helpful. So I created my own set of writer’s block hacks that work for me and might also work for you.
There’s only so much “writing through it” advice you can take without wanting to give up the whole writing gig, and be a checkout assistant. …
We had a dance party!
Mummy and Daddy had a party. There were people at our house! If you knew my mummy and daddy, you’d know that doesn’t happen very often.
But before the new people came, Mummy and Auntie Mou put music on and they were dancing and singing. It was lots of fun. I don’t know the words to the songs, but I tried to sing too.
Mummy was very happy and smiling and laughing. She was singing to me and dancing with me.
Auntie Mou taught me how to do the “twist”. You keep your toes on…
Mummy has had a lot of sad, and angry faces recently, I just want mummy to be happy
I don’t know why Mummy has had lots of sad and cross and angry faces, but she keeps showing them at me. It’s been ages since she had lots of happy faces, her face always looks sad, or tired.
I know that things have been different. I haven’t been to Maria’s House for a long time. It’s been so many sleeps that I can’t count them. I have been at home with Mummy and sometimes Daddy for many days. …
Daddy took me to Kourion beach today. It was super windy. I like the beach because I like to build sandcastles and splash in the sea and drive my trucks on sand roads. But I like rocky beaches too because there are rocks. I like rocks because I can build things.
Our trip to the beach today was a surprise. If I’d known we were going, I would have asked Daddy to bring my swimming pants, my diggers and my shovel. I enjoy digging holes.
Okay, I didn’t get to play in the water because it was chilly cold, and…
When starting on your interweb journey, it’s only right to say hello.
I live in Cyprus with Mummy, Daddy, and my cat, Moggy. So far, so normal. Or maybe not.
Technically, we are all British, but I go to a Greek nursery. I speak Greek and English. It’s always fun to speak Greek to Mummy. She speaks it funny. It’s even more fun to do it with Daddy — he gets so confused.
Nanny and Grandpa live in England, as do my uncle and my cousins. I have another auntie, and she lives here, in Cyprus. She lives with us.
So bored, that Carly Simon got the same treatment as Queen in my slightly odd temper tantrum. Some tunes lend themselves to alternative lyrics for when I’m feeling particularly frustrated. “You’re So Vain perfectly” lends itself to the feelings of frustration and irritation.
Enjoy! (or not)
I stepped into your taxi
Just like many mornings before
Your mask strategically dipped below your nose
Mine covered half my face
With one eye on your mobile phone
You prepared your soapbox rant
And then you burbled the stats about Covid
Stats about covid, and
I’m so bored
Of talking ‘bout the covid pandemic
I got a bit silly today… My apologies to Queen for my butchery of their epic tune.
This is the real-life, this isn’t fantasy.
It’s a pandemic, no guarantee of immunity.
Open your arms, let’s spread all my germs and see
That I’m just a virus, I have no sympathy.
Because I’m easy come, hard to go, little high, massive low.
Anywhere the wind blows, I’ll be there to infect you with me, with me.
Mama! Just killed a man.
Put a cough inside his chest, replicated, now he’s dead.
Mama! Just wanted to do bats.
Now they’re trying to eradicate me.
Once upon a time, you dreamed of being a writer …
I bet you remember it well, that childhood urge to join the ranks of your favourite authors. The crushing disappointment when we realised that few writers ever make it “in real life”. Maybe you never realised it yourself, but when you spoke to your careers guidance counsellor, they quickly disabused you of the notion that you could make a living out of writing. Instead, they pushed you toward other areas in which you excelled. Ones that might let you pay your way through life. …