Betsy The old woman sat dozing in her chair by the window. She lived in room 42. A nursing assistant, young and dark haired, knocked on the door of number 42. She received no answer and so pushed gently on the handle and walked … Continue reading A Short Ghostly Tale for All Hallows’ Eve
About 6 years ago I stopped getting my hair dyed. I’d begun to worry excessively about the fact that every 5 weeks I actually paid someone to plaster a noxious chemical gunge all over my head (a significant amount of it always ended up inside … Continue reading Growing Old Grey-cefully
Generally, I don’t like to go in for criticism (unless it’s the oodles of literary criticism I used to churn out for an English degree or my attempts at film critiques on here.) Neither do I like to join the internet chorus of hate, aimed … Continue reading How a spot of knitting saved me from Daniel Radcliffe
Charlie's Mum's Blog 