Agatha Christie, a duck, and nightshift knitting
I’m still working so much I’m not sure of my own age (I told someone I was 43, when I’m 42) and with all the heat simmering my brain until soft(er), I actually… Continue reading
Inspired by Lucy’s recent Agatha Christie fest, I took to my bed over the weekend with a steaming mug of tea, a stack of toasted crumpets and a couple of dusty disintegrating Christies… Continue reading
Alas, I don’t mean I’ve spent the weekend in a stately home watching actors bite the dust or clutching pearls (possibly both at the same time). Nope, I mean I read the Poirot… Continue reading
Imagine you could travel back in time, kidnap Agatha Christie, transport her to a remote town in the north of Iceland, pop her in the freezer for a little short of a century… Continue reading