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Here I share some more of the darkly comic stories that will make you laugh and cringe in equal measure.
This mini collection is an exclusive for my Very Important Reader Gang.
Stories include The Taxi Driver, Deafness and Accents, He is not Father Dougal and Chip pans and Louvre doors.
You are quite welcome to buy my book using the link BUT every member of my Very Important Reader Gang get a copy for free - so why not join in?
I needed to give myself a bit of a pep talk today, and so I was thinking about inspirational women who have been in my life. Without doubt one of the most amazing has been Vanessa Wallace.
An entrepreneur turned athlete who became a medal winning competitor and Paralympian. Nothing beats sitting in someone's kitchen having a cuppa and holding their Gold Medals I am telling you.
When I looked back did I feel intimidated and insecure around Vanessa? especially when she was doing incredible things I couldn't even dream of for myself? I did not.
And why do you think that might be? because she is a natural cheerleader, someone who encourages and supports other women's endeavours. And she did this for me with the sweet review of Laughing At Myself
“Laughing at myself was like reading a snapshot of the mishaps that the universe likes to throw in my path for its own entertainment. Written in an easy to read format, that pulls no punches, but is still rich in empathy and smiles, this book was a welcomed break from the current world events. One to recommend to everyone you know, as well as being one you could read over and over again, this is definitely one of my favs. No pressure Eden, but can we have the next one soon please? I look forward to enjoying it with a cuppa and some custard creams".
What have you done to support the women in your life?
If you would like to be one of my cheerleaders, voting on covers, and reading my new books before anyone else, use the link to join my VIP readers group,
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Try one of my books completely free, Funny Bird is available to members of my Very Important Reader Gang, with laugh out loud stories like Taxi Driver, and He Is Not Father Dougal....
Another day, another Doner, my confession to you is that I live in London, and I have never actually tried a doner kebab, never even been tempted not when drunk or when insanely hungry. There may even be people reading this who have never even seen one. Let me explain, imagine how you would draw a leg of lamb for a medieval banquet - bear with me, and then imagine it upside down, and that it is all light brown and wet look shiny. Finally imagine it rotating, slowly. This is a Doner kebab. It is a marriage of meat scraps welded together with fat, doesn't that sound appetising? Husband said that his friend used to treat himself to one after a hard weeks work, I asked which of his friends this was? 'Oh you don't know him' he said, 'he died of a heart attack'.
Why am I explaining this to you? because today I am having the wealthy cousin of the aforementioned Doner - the Chicken Shish, chunks of chicken breast, peppers, mushrooms and onions on skewers and grilled over a barbeque grill. So I am able to tell myself that grilled meat, and vegetables, especially when served with salad is a healthy option.
This is very much like life as a whole, in any situation you can make whatever choices you wish, but remember that the treat you believe that you deserve for your efforts can be what ends up killing your spirit (if not your body). Maybe the real treat is looking after yourself, being your own carer and cheerleader - at - all - times - people - at - all - times.
Take you of yourselves
Oh and to read more from the inside of my funny, quirky, occasionally weird brain try my free eBook Funny Bird
This is a first, first mini draft of a story from Funny Bird, enjoy!
Auntie Elda is a lovely person, I think, I say that I think because although I have known her my whole life, I haven’t actually been able to understand anything she has ever said. She has a beautiful, musical Southern Irish accent, it sounds gorgeous, but is absolutely impenetrable thanks to my dodgy hearing.
I think she must think I am quite ‘special’ too, given that I always just nod and agree with everything she has ever said to me, I imagine her going home and saying to my Uncle ahh poor Laura such a shame.
The one upside to this, is that Auntie Elda has always called me by my sister's name, so at least she thinks it is Laura who is the idiot.
Anyone who follows my Facebook page will have noticed that I gave the (probably unnecessary) advice last week, not to take a 17 week old puppy to a hotel – even a dog friendly hotel.
Because that is exactly what I did over Easter. It wasn’t entirely through choice you understand; we had a voucher for Christmas that we hadn’t been able to use before pup arrived. Please rest assured that I did tell the hotel when we booked how old pup would be when we came to stay, so they knew what they were letting themselves in for.
When we arrived there was a lovely patio in the sunshine for a leisurely lunch, and no-one looked disapprovingly at the creatures, so that was a good start; even when Mabel started barking at a random tree (in her defence it did look a bit shady…boom boom).
It was later when we got into our room that things became a little more stressful. Despite being outside for two hours, the first thing on our little Prince’s agenda was a massive wee. Which took nearly a whole toilet roll to mop up, who puts carpet in a dog friendly room? We had to have the windows open the rest of the time to try and lessen the smell of boy urine.
Needing to bring in our bags and the doggy crate from the car we left them in the massive bathroom, only to find out on a return no more than seven minutes later; that our Princess had done more poop than she had in the last three weeks up together. And that they had both danced it around the room.
They went into the crate whilst I got to work with the cleaning products.
The rest of the weekend was much easier, with only a fall into a swamp, and a nose bleed on the white duvet cover to contend with…. How was your Easter?
I want to say right now to all you parents and carers out there, I take my metaphorical hat off to you. How you manage the months of cleaning poop, lack of sleep, constant feeds whilst functioning in semi zombie mode is nothing short of heroic.
Why the sudden outburst of admiration? not a baby, but a puppy. We obviously love him very much, but he does have some unsavoury habits, not only does he poop everywhere, but then feels the need to stamp in it; Meaning he is more brown than white - lovely. It just gets everywhere, right now while typing I glanced down and noticed a brown smear on the leg of my jeans. Lovely.
The house will probably need chemical fumigation by the time he is toilet trained just to get rid of the smell, so my advise is buy shares in cruelty free cleaning brands now folks before I stock up. People I meet sniff me strangely they probably think my perfume is oddly urinal and that the Tena ladies aren't working.
Besides the natural odours the worst thing was bedtime, for the first five nights he screamed, and I mean screamed like a banshee, all. night. long. I have gained eye bags and wrinkles that definitely weren't there last week.
Now before you tell me that I am an idiot, or ask if I had ever even met a puppy before this, what did I expect etc. etc. please know that he was a very much planned and longed for furry friend; and despite the wrinkles, the smell, the noise, the stains and the hate mail from our neighbours - he is our little lad, bless him and we wouldn't have him any other way.
Read more funny stories from me with your free eBook