Having left behind a link to my new blog, I have (not so) promptly changed the title and, therefore, the URL - I can now be tracked down via:

http://mumonashoestring.blogspot.co.uk/

Rest assured I am still here, reading, lurking, enjoying, caring...

Let's just say this isn't all jacket potatoes...


( Read more... )

For many years now I have occasionally been attacked by migraines which have attended some sort of ninja training academy. There's never been anything I could identify as the cause, no one food, drink, activity or situation.

Yesterday's migraine was different. It was in a different part of my head, the pain was sharper and more constant, none of my ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

Heard this on Planet Rock news this morning and have not stopped giggling since.

Four teenage thieves break into a van on a council estate in Manchester to see if there are any tools in there worth nicking. They find no tools, but they do find an armed, angry SAS surveillance team

Spent today at the Excel centre enjoying the various nerdy delights of Salute 2011.
Pictures of my 37 year old, 6'5'' goth husband having his arse handed to him at the gaming table by a 7 year old girl in a pink sparkly T-shirt will follow when I have the feeling back in my feet and the motivation to go all the way downstairs for the camera, but in ( Read more... )

I've just found out that Matt dreamed last night that he'd been offered a contract as a WWE wrestler.

I suppose I'm lucky I didn't get huracanrana'ed out of bed and tombstoned on the landing really...

Frankie the cat is settling in beautifully. So well, in fact, that he feels perfectly confident about waking us up at 2am by sitting on the blanket box under the bedroom window and yowling at the top of his (surprisingly capacious) lungs like a muezzin being beaten with a sockful of pennies.

Once I had ensured that we were not being burgled by a ( Read more... )

Hmm, lets see...

1981 I was not even one year old, living with my parents in a tiny cottage in a tiny village in Oxfordshire. I liked geese, and cheese. I disliked hats with a fiery hatred.

1991 I was somewhere between 10 and 11 years old. We lived in the same little house, and I attended a local CofE 'middle' school with a red and blue uniform and ( Read more... )

Despite being registered with TPS (the telephone preference service) these witless monkeys have somehow acquired our number from somewhere and have been calling daily, desperate, desperate I tell you, to reunite us with what is doubtless a fortune in unfairly snatched credit card charges, bank charges and mis-sold payment protection.

Rather than ( Read more... )