Is It Me Or Is Everything Just S**t?

I lost my courage somewhere along the line and you can’t do much when you’re not brave. Coping with this idea of failure has been hard, as my Dad said it would be. I have felt a little bit useless, a little bit weepy, a lot bit like I want to hide away. So, things have been…well, they’ve been sh*t but as a friend reminded me this morning, sometimes you just have to face up to the sh*t and get a move on.
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How did they dump their baggage in time past? Because I really need a roadmap here. I’m not sure how to start over. I’m not sure how to start writing again either. The W.C. seems as good a place to start as any really. Continue reading →

‘Singing in the Rain but it’s not’ Rubbish Day

oh dear! I published this on the wrong blog. Apologies. It has been raining. A lot. It has rained consistently for 10 days or more. Our house is starting to smell like a cave, the dogs are always wet, to say nothing of the children, and I am developing concerns about the black mould that … Continue reading →

The Bez Valley Ghost House

I have written a blog! I have not fallen off the face of the earth, although I have fallen down the rabbit hole. If you have forgotten in the very long time since my last blog here, I have another, for which I dress up like a bit of a fool for Rubbish Day Wednesdays. … Continue reading →

How to win love and influence people, 15th century style

I have had the most wonderful morning reading 16th century love poetry and it is because of witches and it is because once upon a long time ago a witch told me that I was cursed. I did not mind this overly because then, as now, my heart skips a little beat when I get … Continue reading →

Of Witch Hunts and Fairground Rides

Before we start, I have a small confession to make. I have gone all medieval again because I have started playing an online empire building game. I have become, I say with not a little embarrassment, an online gamer. And I am obsessed. It is quite difficult to remember to feed my corporeal body in between feeding the bodies … Continue reading →

‘Carmen Miranda Fiesta Day’ Rubbish Day

‘Carmen Miranda Fiesta Day’ Rubbish Day. I have a new blog! It’s got nothing to do with history and everything to do with how I dress up on Rubbish Day. It’s not a normal thing to do but it is a thing that I do every Wednesday to keep the neighbours on their toes. Also, … Continue reading →

Prostitutes, Charles Dickens and Heritage Day

Today in South Africa, we are on holiday. It is a public holiday, Heritage Day. Originally called Shaka Day and only celebrated in Kwazulu Natal, 24 September commemorated the life of mighty King of the Zulus, King Shaka. Shaka was a brutal, fiercely intelligent, militant Zulu chief who conquered disparate small tribes and united the Zulu nation. He … Continue reading →

Happy 480th Birthday, Big Chief Elizabeth (almost)

As those who follow my husband’s blog already know and as those who follow my own blog will be rather surprised to learn, I dress up for rubbish collection day. It started as a bit of a joke for my Facebook friends. I was making the point that even though I work from home and that … Continue reading →

Sydney: Of rules and strange familiarity

  I went on a trip, following in the footsteps of my itchy-footed great great grandmother, Ethel, from South Africa to New Zealand. This follows on from where I left off in my earlier post about my great Antipodean time-travelling adventure… So, there I was, lying on the shiny tiled floor of Sydney airport’s International Arrivals Hall. After … Continue reading →

Oh my! Isn’t that wonderful?

Almost 12 years ago now 23Thorns and I were on our honeymoon at a beautiful hotel called Cybele Forest Lodge. Our room had its own swimming pool, the white bed sheets were crisp, the towelling robes were huge and fluffy. There must surely have been a scattering of rose petals on the bed, but I forget … Continue reading →

Old-time Menus and MY Blood- and Burn-Free Marmalade

I am a hazard in the kitchen. I don’t like being there and when I am, I hurt myself. In the last fortnight I have poured boiling water from the kettle onto my hand; I somehow managed not to steam the rice in the microwave steamer – it was burnt brown – while steaming the epidermis … Continue reading →

A Heartbreaking Story of Staggering Weepiness

This is the sort of story that I want to wrap in a ribbon and present to a writer far better equipped than I to tell it. It is the story of terrible heartbreak. It is a family story. My family stories are quite often leadeningly depressing, so if it all becomes a bit much for … Continue reading →

The Left Hand of Darkness: left-handedness and pirate treasure

I’ve been away. I took a little trip to the High Middle Ages, where I read a whole lot of Old English aloud to 23thorns. Faeder ure bu be eart on heofonum, Si bin nama gehalgot. Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. How wonderful is that?! I wrote desperate love letters to John of Gaunt (he wasn’t … Continue reading →

Being Freshly Pressed saved my dignity and my marriage

My husband is also a blogger. He is 23Thorns, which is a name that doesn’t give much away and which I find quite tricky to stick to using here on WordPress. I really am not overly fond of not being able to call him by his name when I am quite so obviously Tracy and … Continue reading →

“When I was Young…” and other things my children never listen to.

My grandma was a dancer. She had lovely hair and even lovelier legs. She met my grandfather, an airforce pilot, during one of his training drills during WW2. It was a fire safety drill. The airforce boys needed two volunteers to leap from the “burning building” into the safety net below. My grandma and her … Continue reading →

Old-time Filth, or On steam train en famille

I wrote a while back about how smelly a place the past was. I spoke about horse manure in the streets, open sewers, pea-soup fogs and clothes infrequently laundered. I meant it when I said my eyes watered at the thought of a tannery next door, but the reality is that I live in nice … Continue reading →

Oh! For a Time When Sexting Was a Love Letter

It started in the car yesterday as I drove the kids home from school. Chatting about the day at school with my son is very often like watching a python swallow a small buck – slow and torturous. “How was your day?” “Fine.” “What did you do?” “Nothing.” “You were at school for 8 hours; … Continue reading →