About

My name is Katy.  I am nearly forty.  I would like to say that reaching this age in my life has made me a more profound, more complete human being.

But that would be a lie.

Mostly it has just made me older, and wrinklier, and less patient.

I am married to Jason. He is very long suffering.  He is an intensely private person, and yet he puts up with the fact that through the entries in this blog, people know far more about him than he is comfortable with. 

He allows me to continue blogging because I have told him it is saving him a fortune in therapy bills and dried frog pills.

I have three children.  They are wonderful, irritating and sticky in equal measure.

I am not an earth mother.  I am an earthy mother.

Before I gave up my already tenuous grip on reality to take up parenting big style, I used to work.  I had jobs where I didn’t have to wear vomit on my sleeve or think about other people’s pooh.  Those days are now but a distant memory.

I enjoy extravagance in all things. 

All things except pooh.

My pension plan involves being a bank robber and living the high life on my ill gotten gains until the rozzers catch up with me.  By the time I am in chokey I will be too old to be anybody’s bitch, and can just do an Open University degree in History and potter about in the prison library until I finally keel over.

I loathe close harmony singing, Venetian Blinds, Bakewell Tart and Rice Pudding. 

I would like to be a willowy five foot eight with gorgeous skin and a devil may care attitude which drives men wild.  I am not any of these things and on a bad day my hair is an homage to Wurzel Gummidge.

I need Gok Wan in my life.  When I take to my life of crime, I may kidnap him.

When I grow up I would like to be a drummer in a rock band, or Georgette Heyer.