Author: Duchess Diaries

The week is upon us. It’s a quadruple whammy in the Housewives arena. Beware television ratings; Bravo’s got the week wrapped up. Sunday, The Potomac etiquette police, who have no manners themselves, clue us in on behavior bad enough to get kicked out of a tiny Hamlet no one’s ever heard of nor striven to live.… Continue reading Housewives Squee…

I was reminded that I’ve not answered questions in a while. ’Tis true my dolls. Here’s some answers… What’s going on with the cancer? For the moment, the bitch is at bay. I’d like to say I was a valiant warrior throughout but I did all the things I thought I would not. I barfed… Continue reading Q And A Time Again…

Ding Dong Gus is dead Meant to divorce him Killed him instead Dr H took a look One small tug was all it took So gross was he All covered in slime Tossed in the trash With all the other grime ​​src="https://theduchessdiaries.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/duchess-diaries-ding-dong-e1482968515311.jpg" alt="duchess-diaries-ding-dong" width="287" height="175" class="alignright size-full wp-image-1882" /> No burial, not a tear Only… Continue reading Sing Along Dolls…

By now all the dolls know our car guy, The Duke aka Big Al, from his dealership and the people we send out to his place to buy a car. Visited with him last week while Oldest Chicken bought a Jeep Laredo in deep cherry red. I tell him of HEAL’s Fairytale Tea and his… Continue reading The Duke Strikes Again…

When patients lose hair to cancer, it’s slow at first and then it falls out in clumps leaving self-esteem heaped on the floor along with the hair. The word chemo conjures thoughts of bald women draped in scarves and wraps and those that boldly display their beautiful shining heads. My hair dropped out midway through… Continue reading The Shrub

The Goddess and I sit on a blanket at a concert in the park. It’s a lazy Sunday in The Dale. Jazz wafts through the perfect Arizona spring air and I inhale deeply, enjoying being out, being present and having a goal for the near future. ​ “I f-ing hate him.” I say to her.… Continue reading D-i-v-o-r-c-e…

In the days when The Norwegian was alive, I loved little more than donning gowns and fab shoes for charity. So much fun. Until it’s not. It gets old and there’s only so many ways to make chicken. I found after I went back to work that planning events was much more fun than attending… Continue reading The Stuff Of Fairytales…

Sorority Sister and her love are in town seeking respite from the tundra. A must when she’s in town is making the rounds, including the YaYas, Contractor Girl and The Goddess amongst others. She has adopted my pals as her own. My little groups orbit round each other and often spend time together. When they… Continue reading Change In Plan…

Leap Year is akin to a full moon. Behavior is out of the ordinary. Inhibitions are shed. It’s a discovery made yesterday at the spa. I work at a spa. It’s a part time job providing this cancer girl with the chance to leave home and get some semblance of exercise in hopes of rebuilding… Continue reading Naked Monday…

“So what do you want in this year?” queries Middle Chicken. She’s taken me to the ladies only lunch haven in Scottsdale to celebrate my birthday. “Health,” say I. I now believe the adage, “If you have your health you have everything.” Been there, done that. Healthy’s better. ​​ “I know that,” says she. “I… Continue reading Embrace The Crazy…