Saturday, 3 July 2010


Well I suppose I’d better introduce myself my name is Lena Doherty (le to friends), I’m 34 so that makes me way too old to ever work for the BBC, and I really don’t have the face for radio let alone TV.   


 I started a writing a few years ago now, then a friend convinced me to do a course with the Writers Bureau back in October 2009, and hope to gain my qualification as a writer/Journalist come the summer, then that’s when the hard work begins trying to break into the world of magazines and news paper’s.

I’m also a mummy to four great kids, each with dreams all of their own, but that is a whole other story. You have probably met them all already at some point in my blog.

I'm married to a hard working man called Wayne, who on occasions drives me nuts, but apparently that’s what husbands are meant to do!  He forgets all important dates, he is late for everything and he is an old fashioned kind of guy who believes his wife should do all the chores around the house whilst he looks after his main priority his 1966 VW split screen camper. 


I love him all the same and I wouldn’t have him any other way because when he does help out he puts coloured washing in with the whites wash, he loads the dishwasher all wrong and if I asked him to change the bed then oh don’t get me started.

My dream is to be a successful writer,Journalist and one day Columnist, maybe one day the dream will come true but until then I will be working hard to make sure it does.   I don’t want to be famous; I just want to be able to express my views and opinions about what happens in this crazy world and believe me it is CRAZY!

I have spent most of my life worrying about what people think of me, until this year when I vowed to make all of my dreams come true.  


 At the stroke of midnight I vowed that I would be a successful Columnist, and create a better life for my family.

In this day and age most women work, look after their families and juggle the housework all without breaking into a sweat.  Well that is of course unless your celebrity mum, but they are completely different bread of MUM! (Well some of them are anyway)

I'm going to be writing about all the news that gets me hot under the collar, the news that makes me laugh and cry and whole host of other things in between, so sit back grab a cuppa and I hope you enjoy.

Pssst. If you know of any editors looking for a columnist, tell them I’m funny, caring and not afraid of a bit of hard work. Then show them this blog and get them to drop me an email

Thursday, 1 July 2010


Ladies there are three types of men in this world:

The ones who love to shop: Now these are very few and far between, they are either Gay or just very style conscious and I only know one of these men and it just happens to be my brother in law.

The ones who hate to shop: This in fact is most men; they will do anything to get out of going. They would even go as far as faking an illness just to make you do your own birthday shopping!

The ones who are worse than the kids when you take them shopping: You know the ones you see their poor wives in the supermarket taking stuff out of the trolley that they have just put in. And they come out with sayings like “Oh this is on offer we should definitely get this” and “oh I have always wanted to try this” to something that will be stuck in the cupboard forever.

I can tell you daddy mission is the second one, he hates shopping with a passion. He wanders round the shops like a stroppy teenager, who has just been asked to get a wash! So I tend not to take him shopping with me at all. I have even done my own birthday and Christmas present shopping for the last 13 years THAT is how much he hates it.

Until one day he decided to mutter those dreaded words. Shall we go food shopping tomorrow, instead of getting it delivered? For the sake of our marriage and my sanity, those words should never be said AGAIN!

My heart sank, I panicked, what on earth was I supposed to say to that “No you’re a miserable bugger and we are not going shopping...EVER”. Well I’m not THAT horrible so I reluctantly agreed, knowing what would happen, and it did. Every time I put something in the trolley I was met with a barrage of questions: “why do we need that”, “Is there a cheaper alternative”, “Do we need that”......... after 5 minutes of this I snapped and told him if he uttered another word then I would leave him in the supermarket all ALONE and go home without him.

Well that shocked him because he never uttered a single word for the rest of the shopping trip, I just got the odd look, you know the one THAT LOOK! He was dying to say something especially when I put a tub of expensive Ice cream in the trolley. You could almost see steam coming from his ears when I put in a more expensive Pizza. Now I was just winding him up, cruel I know but you have to have some fun when you’re married to a Man united fan.

After we had paid and got all the shopping home it was all too much for Daddy Mission as he had to put his feet up and watch a bit of cricket whilst I put all of the shopping away. But it may have been a blessing in disguise as he has NEVER asked to go shopping again!