My Carrie Bradshaw Moment.

You’ve guessed by now, I’m sure, that I dream of being a writer. This space where you meet me is where I play pretend and imagine I’m something more than a middle-aged housewife.  I have to admit to indulging in the occasional delusion of grandeur. You might recall my Nigella Lawson moment (pickled delusion).

I’ve also caught myself having imaginary conversations with Ryan Tubridy while I’m mopping the floor. Ryan congratulates me on winning The Booker Prize which came as a great surprise so soon after that Pulitzer. ‘Well Ryan,’ I begin in dulcet tones,’it all started with a blog…’

Think Jimmy Rabbitte in the bath with Terry Wogan.

Then there are days when I completely lose the run of myself. You know, when I get a new follower or when the WordPress elves tell me that I’ve surpassed my previous record for likes. They send you a message saying, ‘That’s pretty awesome‘ and, just for a few seconds, it’s fun to believe them.  I envision myself in an opulent hotel room, sipping champagne and spilling a frothy pink dress out of an enormous, be-ribboned giftbox.

Yep, From Nigella to Jimmy Rabbitte and all the way to Carrie Bradshaw. My imagination knows no bounds.

Husband, as you know, travels a lot for work. He often brings home little treats for me or the kids, usually some chocolate or the cutsie souvenirs he finds in airports. He brought some gorgeous bulbs from Amsterdam last year and he found brilliant kites in China.

Last week, as he tossed dirty shirts out of his suitcase, he announced, with no small degree of excitement in his voice, that he had found something great for me to wear.

Little Miss Lawson-Bradshaw went into overdrive. Here it came…finally, the froth of fabulousness in a pretty box.

Allow me to model my new outfit for you…


If a girl can only dream, she may as well dream big.


18 thoughts on “My Carrie Bradshaw Moment.

  1. I loved that! And you are a writer. No need to dream …. you are doing it and when you decide you want to (have the time for) penning a book it will flow from you onto and off the shelves with ease. The ease with which you manage to look actually very chic in that combinaison! And you do!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. All I see is a pink flowing gown….LOL I must say that this is love….he brings you home bulbs from Amsterdam and kites from China…and a very chique gardening gown…..not many of us could pull it off….but you look marvelous and sexy in it….as for the writer…hummmm silly girl you are one!!!! you could print off these post and make them into a book or random tidbits of a woman from Cork !! I agree with Fiona, the words will flow from you the minute you start….in the meantime, you match your fence very well..!!!! xxxkat

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Personally speaking, I’d rather be a middle-aged wannabe writer housewife in a loving 20 year relationship being funded by the government having the luxury to only work 5 hours a day. Always think we are much more contented with our life than some of these interactive artists with writers block pretending to be women. Touche!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. First, let me compliment you on your garden chic:)
    As far as delusions of grandeur….
    It has been said “If you can’t dream it, it can’t happen” so in the words of Steven Tyler
    “Dream On”📝

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’ve had many a “conversation” like Jimmy Rabitte in the bath. It started when I was a Blue Peter watcher. I think I frequently pretended to be a presenter, making something with sticky back plastic.


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