The renaming of the 4th of July has begun. No longer Independence Day, but renamed Havisham Days in honor of the wedding-attired dollface to which all the widows feel a kinship. Why the change? This Independence Day holiday marks ten years since The Norwegian's fateful hike with death in the mountains of Colorado. Those who… Continue reading Havisham Days…
Tag: #duchessdiaries
Happy Mother’s Day Y’all…
Oldest Chicken and Baby Pea are having a baby. When they told us at Christmas, Oldest Chicken got a little choked up. His tears were hastily swept aside. Middle, Baby Chicken and myself had no problem openly blubbering, dancing and squeeing. I was given rules. No telling the best girls until I had the go… Continue reading Happy Mother’s Day Y’all…
Croaking In A Bloody Basin…
Writers live mostly in their heads. It's both blessing and curse. It means we can entertain ourselves anywhere and any time but there's also a dark side. Like that little girl Longfellow wrote about, "When she was good, she was very good indeed. But when she was bad, she was horrid." That's the mind of… Continue reading Croaking In A Bloody Basin…
Becoming Diane…
I'm wearing a lot of turtlenecks. Partly because it's been unusually cold on the surface of the sun and since I'm such a delicate flower, I'm freezing. There's another reason. I'm entering my Diane Keaton in Something's Gotta Give phase. All I need now is an age-appropriate lover to take a scissors to my sweater… Continue reading Becoming Diane…
Sunday Scaries…
A week spent amongst Chickens is always good for the soul. A holiday week spent with Chickens in a brand new home and a first Thanksgiving dinner is a treasure. It's Middle Chicken and Lawyer Boy's new home and their first holiday in it. Le Sigh. Alas, Oldest Chicken and Baby Pea are on their… Continue reading Sunday Scaries…
Manners, Manners Everywhere…
Hiatus took me by surprise. Just kind of stopped writing and a day turned to another and another. And then I was a little lost. COVID has taken its toll in the house of Duchess. Skittish Tabby and I eat a lot of bad food, absorb way to many murder mysteries and see far too… Continue reading Manners, Manners Everywhere…
Putty Face…
I bought a primer called "putty." Can you imagine the cosmetics peeps sitting round the table? "Let's call it putty." "You mean like spackle?" "Exactly. I bet it calls all the old ladies to the yard." Have to say--it worked. This woman of a certain age got the message immediately. Putty--like fill in all those… Continue reading Putty Face…
Hello, California? Party of One…
I left the state for the weekend. I had to. Watching others show off their pandemic coping skills now that it's summer--hiking, boating, lake play, poolside lounging, open air shopping and dining--leaves a girl bereft of cheer. Girls that live on the surface of the sun are doubly locked in. COVID plus heat was supposed… Continue reading Hello, California? Party of One…
Charles Manson Was A Loser…
Ladies, there's a new murder girl in town. She's been around for a bit. I'm just late to the party. Those of us who cannot look away from the gruesome, the bizarre and the just plain WTF are obsessed. Why? It's the combination. This chick talks murder while she does her makeup. No lie. I… Continue reading Charles Manson Was A Loser…
Lazy Takes On A New Level…
I have been known to wrangle the remote with whatever is nearby. My first and second toe have amazing grasping ability. I turn my couch cushions every week to fool visitors into thinking there's not a permanent butt indention. Lazy has never had anything on me. My spirit animal is the sloth. If I could… Continue reading Lazy Takes On A New Level…
The Duchess Diaries 