Helen McCookerybook

Thank you to all who have sent sweet messages about McDad, email, text, messages here and Myspace, it is kind and helps the sadness. It has ...

I was walking up a traffic-clogged hill this morning, feeling thoroughly grim; there seemed to be a black rim around the world and in spite ...

I received this this morning, possibly because of a recent posting about towels: Hi Sir / Madam , I wish to purchase an ord...

Imagine my mortified embarrassment as I realised, midway through a rendition of When You Come to the End of a Lollipop to a group of four-y...

Why don't they make perfume that smells like Pledge Classic?

I know I've written about this before, many moons ago, but it's apt, given the time of year, and a better thing to write about than ...

Cats are like blotting paper. They don't have that doggy loyalty or enthusiasm, but when people feel out of sorts, they hover around tac...

The Song of the Landsman's Soul is for you, McDad. It's a bit shaky in places. Thank you to Martin for adding some lovely guitars. I...

Here is dad, looking very 1970s. He left us yesterday evening, at the age of 88.

Some time in the next 24 hours there will be a Helen and the Horns film on Youtube from Christmas 2008

I know that some people who read this communicate regularly by email with me. Just to let you know, I will be a little slow in responding fo...

What do they spread on their toast on the Red Planet? Marsmalade.

Phew... after an extraordinary few days in which I was convinced I was a goner at the side of the M1 (I malapropped 'the cold shoulder...

Yesterday's gig, 'Songs in the Room', was a real sweetie- a little room in a pub in the village of Blackboys, with windows on al...

Eat that food Cos that food is catfood I know this smells yummy But it's meant for my tummy Not yours, Four-paws. You nag Like a tramp...