graham-home-portrait

About Laurie

I began planning my escape almost before I could read…

I was a demob baby, conceived when my Dad came home from WW2, and I grew up in Leicester, England’s geographical equivalent of North Platte, Nebraska. I’ve spent the rest of my life trying to get closer to the sea and I’ve finally made it, to lovely Dalkey on Dublin Bay.

About the Book

Lizzie Partridge, heroine of Perfect Meringues, returns to the fray. She’s survived single parenthood and the moonscape of mid-life dating. She’s weathered career flop and the relentlessly passing years. So now what?

Latest Blog Posts

Almost…Too Quiet…

Almost…Too Quiet…

My husband was admitted to hospital today, in preparation for surgery later in the week. It's one of those brand new hospitals that have a shopping mall and a palm-tree atrium, but not, apparently, any nurses. It hadn't occurred to me that patients might be expected to provide their own towels, and towards...
No Country For Miss Marple

No Country For Miss Marple

 An interesting conversation yesterday with a breed as rare as the white rhinoceros: a self-deprecating Italian. Gaspare was asking me about my conversion to Orthodoxy twelve years ago and whether one gets to choose one's own new Orthodox name. Answer, yes. And in my case it was a very easy choice because...
Cultural Exchange

Cultural Exchange

  Yesterday we had a kind of upper crust yard sale of women's clothes. It was one of our fund-raisers for next January's theatrical production, and it turned into quite a study of human nature. First, there were all those guys who felt left out. As we pointed out, there's nothing to stop...
Little Pleasures

Little Pleasures

I rise snuffling and hacking from my sickbed only long enough to report the arrival of my newest granddaughter, who has feet like plates of meat and hands like Rachmaninov but is otherwise tiny, elfin and good enough to eat. I'd forgotten how easy it is to spend hours just watching a newborn baby...
Golly

Golly

A quick post before I fly off to the UK to meet my newest grand-daughter, now four days old and still without a name. She has arrived just as England attains a new level of politically correct idiocy in what I'll call the Golliwog Incident. Any Brit over the age of 50 has a golliwog...
The Right to Throw

The Right to Throw

                                                                 As my regular reader knows, I'm not a very political animal but once in a while something gets my goat and this morning there it was: a sculptured tribute to the journalist who threw a shoe at George Bush.  It was inevitable that Mr Al-Zaidi would become an overnight celebrity...
Notes from the Trough

Notes from the Trough

I just spent the last half hour preparing a loaf of banana bread, on the basis that it would be a crime to throw away three perfectly good but over-ripe bananas. By the time you've added the cost of the other ingredients, the gas for the oven and the woman-hours, I agree...

Featured Books by Laurie Graham