gse_multipart22887.jpgLinda Jones continues our Women who blog series, Dahling, with a chat to a simply divine blogger who's an inspiration to us all.

This week, I give you - the best thing to come out of the North since Alun (give that man a knighthood) Armstrong.

You obviously have a literary bent, please do share with us any joyful news about a future publishing deal.

Publishing deal? Linda, darling, why don’t I just present you with a wound, some salt and a rusty medieval implement with which to rub vigorously the later into the former. Can we move along please?

Some people who comment on blogs can be frightful, can't they? How do you cope with such mischief makers?

If one bares one’s soul to the world, it is bared to those who will dislike what they see as much as to those who will like it. If someone takes the time and trouble to comment then they should be treated the same as anyone else, as welcome guests. When Northerners visit I just nod and pretend I understand them.

Please share your blogging heroines with us.

Well Linda, blogging is still a man’s world and any woman, such as yourself, who stands up to be counted in that world is a heroine to me.

Have you seen that quaint little Wife in the North blog and what is your impression of it?

I first heard about wife in the north following her famous book deal. A bus full of London literary agents arrived in my village to sign up southern downshifting bloggers. I think she’s lovely. Often, at the end of long day it’s difficult to have to recall the days’s struggles again for the blog but a quick glance at the magazine photo that I’ve kept of Wifey, smiling sweetly in that pretty little gingham number helps me carry on..

Who reads your blog and how do you feel you are able to inspire and entertain them?

I only really know the readers who comment on the blog Linda. I think I have just benefited from the popularity of ‘misery memoirs’. To be honest, with their lovely comments, it is the readers who inspire and entertain me. I am very lucky.

What does your husband think of you blogging?

Linda, now promise me you won’t tell him about the blog, dear.

And what about the children? Do you have a nanny or au pair to look after them while you are spoiling us with your creative riches?

Of course we have Natalia, who is a dear. She is very good with my younger daughters Milly and Tilly although there is a little tension between her and my eldest, Hilly, the daughter who still refuses to sign the release to appear in my blog.

How on earth do you get on with the locals? What do they make of your southern sparkle and sophistication?

Many of the residents of my village come from Islington. After a little friction early on all the southerners have separated from the locals and live Northern Ireland ghetto style behind a high fence known as the ‘quiche wall’. Apart from the odd piece of black pudding thrown over from their side, met with a retaliatory sun dried tomato, relations are cordial. Fruit and vegetables are like kryptonite to northerners so to be magnanimous we don’t take the tomatoes out of the jar before we throw them.

What's the biggest strife about being in the North?

London is still in the south, along with my husband, friends, career, hairdresser, life…

Do you have any examples of some of the Northern customs and traditions they've shared with you? ( For example, I've heard they can congregate at something called the "Bigg Market" - how often is this held and does it sell quinoa?)

Friday night at the Bigg Market is a tradition that, like the running of the bull in Pamplona, is more of a participation than a spectator event Linda. Everyone puts on identical black and white shirts and runs en masse through the streets chased by a large black maria. If not taking part, best avoided I would say.

Please if you could be so kind, can you honour us with some top blogging tips from a doyenne of the art so that we can aspire to such heights?

Just be yourself.

Linda Jones has always had a secret yearning for an Aga and a chocolate Labrador. Unfortunately there's not many around in Cannock. Toodle pip.