Showing posts from May, 2018

Reasons why Fran wishes her husband could wear slippers

I'm so sorry I haven't posted for a while. Here are some reasons. Reason 1. I was very busy buying my outfit and hat in which to attend the Royal Wedding of Harry and Meghan. Then I had to shop for the wedding present, and travel to London especially for the event. All this took time in itself, but to top it all, I then had to spend a few nights in a police cell after being denied entrance to St George's Chapel and charged with affray on its front steps, a totally unreasonable accusation bearing in mind I only gave the police officer one little push when he said I couldn't get in without an invitation. Reason 2. I've also been busy writing my novel. It's amazing how many different ways you can write it. Here are some. My novel  (large font) My novel (italics) My novel. (in red) My novel. (in a different font) Another way to write my novel would be to sit at my desk and add more words to a manuscript but it's much less scary just playing with f

Reasons why Fran might do more of the shopping herself

Is it just me? Is anyone else affected by the colours of food? I've just made an omelette for my lunch. On my days off (Mondays and Wednesdays) lunch is usually an omelette. I'm trying to avoid bread. We have fallen out, bread and I. I can eat most anything else and not put on weight. I have one thin slice of bread: suddenly I'm the size of a Juggernaut and can't get through normal doors. Two or three slices of bread, and people pass me saying, 'Look at that hot air balloon, out walking.' I reached into the cupboard for eggs for my omelette, pulling out a box of eggs that looked different from those we usually buy. My husband bought them - they're called 'Burford Browns' and there's a message - I call it a warning - on the box: 'With deep brown coloured shells'. The chicken at the top is looking the other way for good reason Fine. Deep brown coloured shells I can cope with. Who cares about the shells? They go in the recycli