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The often dubious, politically incorrect and mainly humorous musings of Ms Jane Turley, (Ex) Housewife Extraordinaire.

Stephen Fry,Toyboys, Hiatus Hernias and Jacob’s Cream Crackers. And a Happy New Year to all!

Getting old is a right royal pain in the backside, isn’t it? I know middle aged celebs are always spouting that “I’ve never been happier” phrase (usually when they’ve just be paid fifty grand by Hello magazine for a photo shoot) but personally I kinda liked being young and healthy. Although – if I was 57 years old and called Stephen Fry and I’d just hooked up with a 27 year old I’d be saying “I’ve never been happier” too. In fact, I’d quite happily trade the good Mr T in for a younger model – so if there’s any 27 year olds out there  (or younger – I’m not fussy) who fancy their chances with Mrs T and can do a hatchet job on Mr T send me an email with the title “Age is no object and I’m hot for rotund old women.” So, you may have been

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How to slow up the pace of life

I’ve come to the conclusion that the pace of life is too fast, especially around Christmas. Luckily, I’ve discovered a good way to slow things up: 1. Hand over the wrong debit card at the supermarket queue. Make sure the queue is really long first so you can slow things up for other people too. They’ll be grateful for the rest. 2. Spend several minutes looking for the correct debit card in your purse and bag. Then remove all the contents (except the spare knickers) while you search for the correct card. 3. Announce to everyone in the queue that you cannot find your debit card but luckily you have your credit card! 4. Forget the PIN number to your credit card. 5. Suggest you go to the cash point but then remember that in the amongst all  crap  essentials in your bag you might be able to find enough

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Santa knows what’s good for him!

So you thought Santa was a bluff old fool being misled by a host of  demanding kids? Not so, dear readers, not so! Santa has taste; he has style. He is one cool dude. How do I know? Well, this morning I was sent this picture: Only the best is good enough for Santa! 

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The Problem of Facial Hairs – Again.

What is it with facial hairs when you’re over forty? My chin feels like a badger’s arse at the moment and I look like Popeye after an overdose of spinach. If any more hairs sprout I’ll be able to pluck them and start my own business manufacturing scrubbing brushes and garden brooms. God, the menopause is depressing. I’ve never been that keen on the idea of taking drugs but as I get older the idea of hallucinations and days spent slumped over the sofa as opposed to watching foot-long hairs sprout from every conceivable hair follicle is becoming more attractive every minute. I’ve always liked being a brunette because it gives a woman way more intellectual kudos (even if you don’t get to party so much) but, as an older woman, being a brunette is a living hell. The only plus side is there’s no fear of England every being

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A personal perspective on living with Crohn’s disease, cystic fibrosis and cancer by Derrick LoRusso

Before I begin I’d like to thank Mrs. Turley for letting me write on her blog. So if traffic suddenly stops coming to her blog after you read this she knows who to go after. Thankfully, I live in Canada (Or as you Brits call it “Across the pond”), so she’s got a long swim to get me. Not including the rabid polar bears and the bone chilling cold.  I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis when I was six and Crohn’s disease at eight. (Or as I call it “The Ultimate Weight Loss Program.”) Ever since then it has, quite literally, been a roller coaster ride on the “Tilt-a-Hurl 2000.” Every day I question if I’m going to breathe easy or I worry about coughing up phlegm. A lot of people have shot me dirty looks because of coughing fits that randomly pop up. My stomach will get into knots

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The Quest for Cures

Have you ever seen a child short of breath? Have you ever been fearful your child might die? I think every parent has, at sometime or another, had macabre thoughts. If you’re lucky enough to have healthy children then those thoughts might only be fleeting but, if your child has a serious illness, you may have lain awake at night, tossing and turning, whilst your imagination takes you into the places that every parent fears. It’s tough when your child is ill, no matter whether it’s a cold or cancer, because for most of us, our children are the central pivot of our lives. Perhaps the love of parents and carers – is the greatest kind of love – love that is unselfish and bounteous. My second son has a peanut allergy and asthma. Luckily, he is extremely fit and these days his asthma and peanut allergy make very limited

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Writing For A Good Cause

Today, I am breaking away from the usual silliness on this blog to introduce you to Legend Press author, Linda Huber. A few months ago, Linda spontaneously bought and reviewed my novel and since then we have become Facebook friends. It was through one of those fleeting Facebook feeds, and quite by chance, that I noticed Linda was contributing to an upcoming charitable anthology. The two beneficial charities rang bells with me and I immediately decided I wanted to support Linda and her writing partners in their very worthwhile cause. Today, I’m leaving it to Linda to introduce the anthology but later in the week, as well as reviewing the anthology, I shall be telling you why supporting Linda’s endeavours is personal to me. In the meantime, and with no further ado, here’s Linda… Hi everyone and first of all huge thanks to Jane for letting me loose on her

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Bargain Alert, Bargain Alert!

I’ve just got home from Morrisons petrol station where I saw such an absolute bargain at the checkout that I feel compelled to inform you of it, dear readers, so that you can rush out and get it for yourselves. This was the wording I saw on display at the checkout: Customers spending over £15.00 will receive a voucher for three minutes of FREE air. Vouchers valid only on day of purchase.  What the *uck? I am sorry to let that slip out – but I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous in all my life (except this blog of course). I mean, I appreciate the FREE air (no doubt factored into the £15.00) but I can only have it on the day of purchase? Is there a rush on air or what? Is it in short supply? Is Cameron going to start taxing it or what? I am gutted, absolutely

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Reality is Dangerous

I know you all thought I was dead. But I still have a few years left in me. So says my taxidermist. So what have I been doing? I am not sure – but in the last week I forgot the dentists (again), broke down in Mr T’s car and was stuck on the A5 for 3 hours in the dark with Master Jacob only wearing his tennis shorts, the central heating system failed, the school rang me for a second time to remind me about the forms that Master Ben has failed to hand in since September and I gained 1lb in weight despite having gone swimming six (yes SIX) times. In addition the upstairs bathroom light only works after twenty pulls and the downstairs one blows all the fuses. Just an ordinary week for Mrs T then. The good news is the plumber has already come and fixed

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I give in!

I give in.  I’ve been trying to hold off.  But I don’t think I can hold back any longer. The excitement and intrigue is just too great. All that gossip, scandal and name-calling. Yay! Sometimes a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do. So, I just bought KP’s autobiography in hardback. Cos there’s no way I can wait till June 2015 for the paperback and I’m not paying £7.47 for the Kindle version. I’m a hard woman to please, Kevin. So this had better be good for £9.00. Yep so it seems even cricket players can be bitchy. It comes as no surprise to me.Two of my sons have played junior county cricket. The only difference is at junior level it’s the ambitious parents you have to watch out for. I’m still reeling from the fourteen daggers in my back and the toxic berry juice at tea. Great cover

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The Pen or The Finger?

I am in my kitchen making a cup of tea when I see an attractive man in his thirties approach my doorstep carrying a parcel. This doesn’t happen very often. (That’s the attractive man knocking on the door – the parcels come a lot. In fact, Amazon would probably go into receivership without my custom.) I open my front door and take a closer look at my visitor. I decide he has modelled his appearance on George Clooney’s semi-bearded look. This is pleasing to the eye but doesn’t quite have the same impact as Gorgeous George is a six-footer and the delivery man is like Tom Cruise in stature. Somewhere six inches has gone missing. Still, I’m not one to complain about six inches. So I smile as he breaks into conversation. “Would you mind taking in this parcel for your neighbour?” “Sure.” I reply. The man hands over one

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A Haiku Stink

Master Benedict: I need to find a three word poem, print it off and take it into school. Mrs T: You mean, a three line poem. A haiku? Master Benedict: Yes, that’s right. A haiku. Mrs T: Let’s look on the net. Mrs T pulls up some haiku websites Mrs T: How about this one? Master Benedict: It’s crap. Mrs T: Yes. How about this one then? Master Benedict: That’s crap too. Mrs T: Hmm..yes it is. This one? Master Benedict: No. Mrs T: This one? Master Benedict: No. Mrs T: This one? Master Benedict:They’re all crap! Mrs T: Umm..yes. Most haiku is crap.What about this one ? Master Benedict: I suppose it will have to do. Beans are kind to hearts. I like to eat them daily. And then do big farts! Master Benedict: It’s still crap. Mrs T: Yes.

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