Cooking shows, crying and carrying on.

Cooking shows, crying and carrying on.

From Sunday, right through to Thursday, I ugly cry between six and seven. This happens without exception, and I assure you, without any sense of self-respect. Yes, each night, during each episode of Master Chef Australia, I weep with such vigour that we have to turn...
Flu, phlegm and fears.

Flu, phlegm and fears.

To quote my Zimbabwean friends, this week I was attacked by the flu. I now completely understand the expression because this virus came from nowhere and struck me down with such force that I almost went to lay a charge at the police station. Within a day, I went from...
PEGs, proxy’s and plans.

PEGs, proxy’s and plans.

I’m sitting with Marie. She has big brown eyes like Bambi. She’s wearing pink pajamas with matching pink slippers and watching the latest Netflix sensation – some office romance starring Jennifer Lopez. I’m just hiding here with her, writing my blog. The...