December: In which I enjoy myself hugely and answer the vexed question, can one put hand cream on one’s face?
Poorgeoisie
Poorgeoisie: November
November:
In which the wolf taps politely at the door
And nobody
Knows —tiddely-pom,
How cold my
TOES—tiddely-pom
Are
Growing.
I start the month with an inspiration, a real grabb...
Poorgeoisie: October
October: In which life grows misty, mellow, and fruitful, and I put the “tum” in “autumnal”.
I begin the month determined to cut back on utilities. The $21 I’ve paid forwar...
Poorgeoisie: September
September: In which I take stock, wonder what all the fuss was about, and weary of ratatouille.
I assembled the border collie and the nine cats and – Yes, nine. It’s a long...
Poorgeoisie: Prologue
This thrift business, I’ll say for starters, is bred in the bone. When I was six, I came home from school to the familiar sight of a vast pot steaming on the stove. Mum w...
Take Short Showers
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