Many thanks for your kind words, friends.
She has nothing to write about. That's the problem, and that's why she invented the rs. She has no friends, she has no family who will put up with her, her rescued racehorse seems to hate her, her animals are so out of control in her house that she's had to find a place in London to live so she doesn't have to deal with the urine and poop and endless barking. She's scared to write about her finances, since readers have ripped into her begging; few seem to value her fashion advice, and her "Jones Moans" is just malice that reveals that she is a jealous, petty shrew.
She's so desperate that she's dragging her ex-husband in. I gather she must have had a flock of readers who were following the slow unraveling of the marriage? People who cared about her because her nasty side was perhaps not so visible? Here's a definition of pathetic: Being a woman of her years, desperate for copy, and hoping that if the rs saga made her look loony, she can start writing about her ex-husband and the fans who once cared about that relationship will pop up and flood the Mail with positive comments. In her dreams, is my guess.
Did she once seem like a reasonably bearable person, back then? Did her comments influence anyone? Were those first nasty posts about rural life the beginning of readers seeing that she was just a lying drama queen, claiming her lovely house was a pig stye, claiming her perfectly normal neighbors were duh erm eh stupid?