Aunty Mary lives on the Isle of Man and in Malaysia, sometimes simultaneously. She once owned a cat that was carried away by a seagull--they have awful big seagulls on the Isle of Man, which is why the taxes are so low. Her oeuvre includes a poem about a cupboard full of shoes, a short story about a woman whose face disappears, and the phenomenal Mrs Poppycock's Diary. Mrs Poppycock, armed with limited intelligence and a fondness for cake (the sort with bits of carrot in it), moves with an unsettling confidence through her world, battling with shop clerks and bailing out her destitute offspring.
Mrs Poppycock's Diary is an ongoing work; entering the confines of this formidable protagonist's mind is a strenuous task. Equally time-consuming is the task of transcribing Mrs Poppycock's hopelessly anachronistic northern dialect in a way that international readers will find intelligible. Aunty Mary hopes that the Poppycock project will be completed in 2006, probably on a Tuesday.
The following features bear Aunty's insidious imprint: