Great Expectations

At 8am I was lying in bed, awake, thinking. Actually, thinking is a far too generous a word for what I was doing.

To be totally honest, I was a little disturbed that I was awake at 8am. I had expected that on this day (complete with the extra hour of sleeping goodness thanks to the clocks going backwards) that I would still be sleeping soundly, making up for all the lost hours during the week.

As my bleary eyes stared across the room, I found myself looking at the copious amount of books on my bookshelf, telling myself I have got to stop living as if I actually run a library.(Mental side note: must donate more books to charity)

I saw a book that I haven't opened in years. It was a gift from a dear friend. With this gift, she introduced me to the wonder and magnificence of Michael Leuing.

One of the most profound poems that has stuck with me through the years was this one about expectations.

It's so challenging. 

Perhaps it's just me, but perhaps it's not. You know those times when you have worked really hard on a work project or you have put so much effort into planning an event and you kind of, sort of, hoped or expected someone to notice and give you a little nod of appreciation or a little pat on the back? 

But what happens when the moment comes and goes, and not even a 'thank you' has been uttered? At the very least, it makes you realise the reason you were doing it in the first place.

Unmet expectations - "give us a stray dog when we expect congratulations". 

Sometimes hard to take but maybe, somehow, good for us all in the long run.

I love being kept on my toes, to expect the unexpected! It has a way of keeping us real and creates a character and strength within us that we didn't know we had.

So here's to the storms, the dreams, the music and the sunshine that is to come!

Much love x 

To begin

So as you can probably tell, it's been a while since i have written. I honestly have no idea where the last year has gone. If i had to guess, it would be somewhere between the realms of a crazy-busy-mental work life, a little bit of travel (a lot of jet lag) and not so much sleep. 

And so, in light of the beautifully profound words of William Wordsworth, I have decided to make anew (again).

It's as simple and as complex as that.

I will begin!

Begin. What does that actually look like?

begin
bɪˈgɪn/
verb
1. perform or undergo the first part of (an action or activity).
synonyms: start, set about, go about, embark on, launch into, get down to, take up, turn one's hand to, undertake, tackle; initiate, set in motion,institute, inaugurate, get ahead with;
informal:get cracking on, get going on;
formal: commence

To me, it looks a little like hard work and it seems that sometimes the first step may even be the hardest, the longest and take the most courage. 

For me it is writing; letters, children's books, novels, articles > anything really. I will wipe the dust from my trusty laptop and get the coffee brewing and try to somehow find the time to sit back, breathe again and let the words and ideas flow - so please forgive the rustiness as i get my little groove back. 

Much love & loads of kisses x

Post Holiday Blue-ness

Technically speaking, I'm not sure if i even qualify for being allowed to have the Post Holiday Blues; I mean, I haven't 'officially' even been on a holiday. Nonetheless, i'm feeling it. To save time and to allow me to wallow just a little longer, let's just call it a Working-Abroad-Occupational-Hazard.

As i sit here, in my super attractive sweatpants, 26 thermal base layers and my trusty pair of uggs, I am reminded of two things; 1. that the irony of actually having a tan but having to cover it up with a million layers is almost unspeakable, and 2. that I never learnt how to turn on the central heating so I must sit here and contemplate life whilst watching my breath appear as vapour in front of my face. 

These two things alone account for majority of my post holiday blue-ness. That, and the pile of laundry that i have sitting in the middle of my floor, staring incessantly at me. 

I have now moved my freezing body complete with uggs into bed. Is that wrong at 4 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon? Actually don't answer that. Let's just say that as I haven't slept for the past 24 hours due to the taking 4 babies on a plane scenario, it's ok on this occasion. As i pull my duvet up to my chin and flick the switch for my beloved electric blanket, I glance out my window. It's almost completely dark outside! Um, when did winter happen? 

After speaking to a friend this afternoon, they told me that they'd read somewhere that the average recovery time for Post Holiday Blues is 8 days and 22 hours. Ahem, so if this theory is correct, and my mathematics hasn't failed me, I should be good to go, and back to my happy and cheery self next Tuesday at 2pm! Ha, watch this space.

And for those of you who see me before the blues have worn away, i apologise in advance!

Much love and loads of kisses xx

August in a Suitcase

So it seems that it's that time of year again > time to pack up and get myself some sunshine. Call it an occupational hazard if you will, but August for me generally means lots of travel! It means packing and unpacking, flying in and flying back out, a few days here and a few days there, and spending many a day at airports all over the world.

This time next week, it'll be time to fly away to the beautiful blue waters and long sunshiny days. As I am sitting here daydreaming of the sun on my shoulders, the beautiful sandy beaches and the cocktails at the bar, I am jolted back into sobering reality and am reminded that I shouldn't get too carried away as it is after all a 'working holiday'.

Last night, in preparation for my trip, I dredged through the attic to find myself a suitcase that would be suitable in both size and purpose. Sizeable enough to fit 3 weeks worth of clothes in, suitable for all different temperatures and pursuits; and it would have to be self-standing and easy to carry. Let's face it, at any given time, i'm likely to be carrying a child; whilst chasing child; whilst trying to open a water bottle for another child; whilst trying to answer the 56 million random (yet important) questions of another child. With 4 sets of little hands all vying for my attention, my luggage is going to want to be the least of my concerns. 

It is important that you realise however, that i have decided against attaching leashes to all my little people throughout our many airport stints. I think that i'm going to have to rely on my 'death stare' tactic, one that has historically proved to be quite successful amongst small humans. And then, if we make it through the airport with the same number of little people we started with, there is the dilemma of trying the contain these little people in their own seats for 10 hours! I'm exhausted and the hard work technically hasn't even begun yet...

So wish me luck on my little August Adventure! And if my general travel record continues with sustained vigour, no doubt come September, I will have many more (probably traumatic and amusing) tales to tell! 

Much love and loads of sunshine. Have a safe & happy Summer all you Northern Hemispherians out there. See you in September for a wine & a bit of much needed grown-up, intellectual conversation   xx

Your mountain is waiting...

I don't know about you, but my first response to change isn't always that of wide open arms & reckless abandon. I am the kind of girl who loves a good routine and is pretty happy to have a 'plan' for everything > just ask my flatmates! They joke that at times, i even need a plan to make plans. Go figure...

Anyway, earlier this year, I received a phone call that would be certain to change my working world forever. I had been in London for 9 years and had found myself in a super beautiful, very comfortable and totally amazing job. Then one unsuspecting January day, i was offered a new, daunting yet exciting, demanding yet inviting job. In all honesty, my first response was to say no (because that would be easier & far less complicated), but then something in me started wondering if change was actually something my life was in need of. Despite being totally freaked out about the prospect of leaving my lovely, safe job, I took a few moments to articulate what I wanted my life to look like over the next few years.

After much thought and consideration, I decided that even though it was going to be a serious shock to my very relaxed system, I knew I needed to embrace the change that was set before me. I couldn't quite get my head around the logistics of changing jobs, nor could i completely understand the poignantly bittersweet feeling of leaving a job I absolutely adored. All I knew is that I was ready for a new challenge.

I tearfully resigned my beloved post and signed a new contract.

And now I find myself on the eve of this fabulous new frontier. Looking at this (freaking) massive journey set before me, wondering what on earth I have done. And is it here I need to keep reminding myself that my mountain is waiting, and it is well and truly time to get on my way! So off i go, one step at a time, on this new journey of mine.

I don't know what the future holds, but one thing i do know is that I am glad that i took the leap of faith and embraced the opportunity set before me. No doubt, the road will not always be straight, and sometimes it may seem more uphill than down, but oh, the adventures i'm set to have!

Can't wait to see the view x

Anaïs Nin: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

What will our children say

I remember ever so fondly the long road trips taken with my family. We used to strap our 'boogie' boards to the roof and float between seaside towns of beautiful Australia during the glorious sunshiny days of summer. 

On a side note > i actually think they were called Body boards, but the coolness, or lack thereof of the McBride clan meant that we always knew them as Boogie Boards. Please don't judge me, take it up with my parents.

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The anticipation of visiting new and exciting places led to the overused and often sigh inducing question, 'Are we nearly there yet?' Of which the record for best use was me at about 2 minutes into the 6 hour journey and having not even left our street. Needless to say, that phrase was banned from all car trips from that point on. 

But what defined our road trips was the continuously repeated, not super appreciated, music of the parents. In our car, we had 6 cassettes on rotation. We had Neil Diamond, Elton John, Billy Joel, The Carpenters, Bee Gees and some representation from the Beatles. And until the year we all got walkmans for Christmas, we were subject to this extreme punishment of old school songs for hours on end.

Saying this, hindsight allows me to see that most of these songs were actually not bad at all. Lyrically, some were even beautiful!

Let me give you a few super sweet & ultra touchy feely examples...

'I'm all out of love, what am I without you
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong' - Air Supply

'I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day'. - Johnny Nash

'I'm, I'm so in love with you
Whatever you want to do
Is alright with me' - Al Green

'When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes,
I will dry them all
I'm on your side'  - Simon & Garfunkel

And this brings me to my next point. I have the stress...er...privilege of driving 4 little boys to school most days. I do often wonder how the music we listen to in the car shapes their opinion of modern day society.

Kings of Leon got me into a little trouble with 'Sex on Fire'. I didn't fancy the explanation of this one so every time the word sex came up in the song, I sang 'socks' very loudly. So for a little while, I had the whole car load rocking out to "you, your socks are on fire". They did think it was weird to sing about burning feet, but hey, why would i lie?!

Lady Gaga got me into similar strife after being asked what is a disco stick and why would you want to ride one? As did Katy Perry and her girl kissing antics and LMFAO with a very strong opinion of themselves. Once again, the boys wanted to know what 'passion in my pants' meant. And of course, the oh so humble...

'(Ahhhh) Girl look at that body, 

I-I-I work out' 

I am not saying our music is morally corrupt nor am I taking any particular stance on the merit of modern music, I am simply wondering what on earth our children will think of us 30 years down the track.

I suppose we will just have to wait and see. 

x

How {not} to say hello!

Ok, so here is my dilemma > a few days ago a friend came up to say hello. He stretched out his arms for a hug and so with reckless abandon I went in for a hug. The only problem was that he wasn't quite ready for my 'reckless abandon' kind of hug. From an outsiders perspective, i'm pretty sure it looked as if I was trying to crash tackle this guy to the floor.

Thankfully he recovered pre floor landing and we managed to do a little stabilising shuffle/dance kind of thing {all in slow motion of course} and were able resume our pre hug positions. He then took a safety step back and said 'hi'.

Er...awkward!

I still cringe when I replay this trauma in my head, wondering if at any stage in my life I will ever be a normal & non awkward human being. I painfully re-enacted it out to my flatmates when I got home that evening and they literally rolled on the floor in hysterics. And now, what's worse is that this type of 'take advantage' hug has a name > it has now been called the 'Amy'. Ah, how exciting, my moment of trauma has been forever etched in the Stephendale dictionary of terms.

What's worse than this crash-tackle kind of hug though are the memories of 'greetings gone wrong' that this kind of experience evokes. I shudder at the thought of all the times a greeting has gone wrong. Please say this doesn't just happen to me?!?!

Here in England, a greeting can be tricky. We have so many Europeans in the mix that you never know if it's going to be a hug, a one kiss or a two kiss hello! Seriously, I am pretty sure I did not get the memo that states when each of these are appropriate.

Known for my affectionate ways, I tend to want to hug everyone I meet {potentially though, I will reassess the vigour at which I hug in light of the above situation} This hugging affection of mine is not usually a problem unless you go in for the hug and they go in for the kiss and then retreat. Then you have what I like to call the kiss/non hug limbo > where one party is still going in for the lean and the other one has retreated. In which case the non hugger then feels bad and goes in for the hug after the kiss, which just makes it all the more awkward.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, I have another story for you. So imagine my joy when I so beautifully assess that the person is in fact European and wanting a double kiss. All I am going to say is that I have learnt that the most crucial fact to note in these situations is the amount of space one needs to retreat before planting the second kiss. If you get this distance wrong, you then participate in a 'lip graze' kind of experience, which is not ideal and perhaps even more cringe-worthy than the crash tackle hug.

Oh me, oh my!

Feel free to tell me your cringe-worthy moments > I may need to hear them if I am ever going to allow myself back in public again. Until then, I promise to work on my hug technique and vow not to be offended if you stand back and wave 'hello' to me from a safe distance.

Much love & restrained hugs & kisses xoxo

The little red book

It's official > I want a little red book. To clarify, I do not mean a little black book, I mean a British Passport.

After realising that my visa is once again due to expire, I have decided that it is about time to sort out my indefinite status,  once and for all. 

I honestly don't know what I am going to do with it once I have obtained it, but hey, people always seem to want to tell me to keep my options open. So, here I am, keeping my options open. If nothing else, it will mean an end to waiting in the All Other Passports queue behind 3 plane loads of non English speaking {potentially illegal} immigrants who have not filled out their paperwork. Most times, I bid a sad farewell to my English counterparts and tell them to save themselves and go on without me. They used to stay behind and wait for me at baggage but after a few trips with me, they soon came to realise that airports and I are not on particularly friendly terms, despite my seemingly frequent use of them. They often text me when they are safe & sound at home and generally I am still yet to make it to the customs desk.

So yes, after 8 years of queues, it is about time.

After looking into what was required, I soon came to realise that I had to sit the 'Life in the UK' test. And after a little bit of research, I found out that this was a test that I was actually going to have to study for. I had got through my whole entire life on a little bit of cramming and a probably a lot of pretty essays that danced vaguely {and hopefully poetically} around an idea rather than being 100% accurate. But this test...it is black and white, the answer is either right or wrong. 

I have 2 weeks before my test and I have been such a good little scholar and actually been studying. 

Here are some of the remarkable {and obviously cruical} facts I have learnt:

• That Whips are appointed by their party leaders {don't ask me what a Whip is yet... I haven't got to that page} 
• In 2005 Scotland's population was 5.1 million and accounted for 8% of the UK
• The National Assembly for Wales is actually situated in Cardiff not in Swansea.
• Ulster Scots is a dialect which is spoken in Northern Ireland.
• The the population of the UK has grown 6.1% since 1971
• One third of the population have used illegal drugs at one time or another. 
• The Geordie dialect originates from Tyneside.
• Jewish people migrated from Poland, Ukraine and Belarus to escape persecution in 1880-1910.
• That if I ever move to Northern Ireland, I can rest assured that the cost of water supply is included in domestic rates.

So goodbye to my much-loved social life > hello to my beautiful yellow highlighter and my study books. Please forgive me if the next time I see you I spout out a fairly random English fact for you - be assured that post December 15, my desire to tell you this new found information is sure to deteriorate. 

I will keep you posted {if i pass} > if i fail, I probably won't say a word until I am deported for not having the necessary skill set required to be a citizen of this magnificent country.

Until then, let the learning of random English facts continue.

xx

This one's for you boys

So here you have it > boys, don't say I don't look after you.

The 9 Deadly Words Used By Women, as written by a man who seems to have cracked the code. {source unknown}

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1) Fine
This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to be quiet.

2) Five Minutes
If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

3) Nothing
This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

4) Go Ahead
This is a dare, not permission. Don’t Do It!

5) Loud Sigh
This is actually a word. It is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)

6) That’s Okay
This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That’s okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

7) Thanks
A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you’re welcome. (I want to add in a clause here – This is true, unless she says ‘Thanks a lot’ – that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say ‘you’re welcome’ . that will bring on a ‘whatever’).

8 ) Whatever
This is dangerous boys! She rarely means 'whatever' so back away now...

9) Don’t worry about it, I got it
Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking ‘What’s wrong?’ For the woman’s response refer to #3.

30 days of Thankfulness

"Let your lives overflow with thanksgiving for all He has done" {Colossians 2:7}

Each day this November, in light of a friend's 30 Days of Thankfulness Challenge, I wrote down one thing that I am thankful for.

So here goes...

November 1: Being an Aunty! I love it. Seeing the little sweet faces of Elliot, Mitchell & River makes my heart smile. It's so crazy how much love one can have for somebody so tiny.

November 2: Red Cups. Thankyou Starbucks for putting back that spring in my November step. I feel like today is the day where we can officially get festive. Happy wintery days x

November 3: My darling new friend, Steph. I love her. She is a true American Beauty who has introduced many a new word to my vocabulary. My current favourite of her words is 'dreamboat'. And what I love more than the word itself, is her ability to use it in reference to our Chiropractor.

November 4: Suprises! Tonight I went to a party where the Father of the Birthday Boy flew in from NZ to surprise him for his 30th birthday. I loved seeing the look on both their faces. I also loved the secret organisation that went on behind the scenes to make sure that their paths didn't cross before the party.

November 5: Guy Fawkes > Fireworks > Bonfires > Sparklers! Need i say anymore! Well only that if you live in London, you need to get yourself down to Battersea Park one year.

November 6: Skype. So thankful that there are people with such creative genius on the planet who can come up with technology like this. Makes living in a city a million miles away from your beloved family just that little bit more bearable.

November 7: The 'Next Bus' iPhone ap. I know, someone call the the Geek Police. I just can't explain to you all how much it has changed my life. No more waiting on those dark, cold, rainy mornings. Just select your bus stop and voilà... next bus in 4 minutes, time to run to the bus stop!

November 8: My Parents. These two are some of the sweetest most generous people on the planet. Love them!!!

November 9: That my puppy is always sitting at the door waiting for me to walk in. I adore her unconditional love > she makes me smile!

November 10: My dreamboat (see Nov 3) of a chiropractor. So the other week on the way to a night out, I decided to take a tumble down a whole flight of stairs. With a mild concussion and a rotated pelvis, I was a little sore and sorry for myself. So thankful for Dr Nick and his magic ability to right the wrongs in my back.

November 11: That I live in a country that Remembers & honours the sacrifice of those who have gone before. We will remember them.

November 12: For friends who have fun fancy dress parties & who give me the opportunity to harness the {very} inner gothic within. Fortunately or unfortunately, {don't read this part mum} it also reignited my affection for tattoos.

November 13: Sleeping in and not having to set an alarm. Granted that this only happens once a week. It has to be one of my most favourite parts of my week.

November 14: London at Christmastime. The magic that comes with a cold & hopefully white, Christmas. I love the lights, the mulled wine, the Christmas markets, the big fluffy hats and big cosy jackets. Ah, love!

November 15: My beautiful sister Jodi & her husband James & my brother Andrew and his lovely wife, Brittney. Oh how I love my family > just so thankful!

November 16: My darling friend Lynn. I work with this awesome girl and nothing is ever a drama and everything she does is mixed with an incredible amount of humour to get me through the working day. She is a freaking superstar. I love her! And she's single too boys...

November 17: The Bunnies! What can I say. I think I live with the most amazing, talented, beautiful, generous, inspirational, caring girls on the planet. So blessed x

November 18: All the beautiful little people in my world. Ah, baby cuddles, so precious. {And thank you to all my friends who humour me and let me steal their little ones, even just for a few minutes}

November 19: Borris Bikes > the most awesome thing to happen in London. Ever! {Well this is probably a mild exaggeration, but let's be serious now, they are pretty awesome!}

November 20: Real Christmas trees! The beautiful smell and the adventure of choosing that very special tree and carting it home again. Unforgettable memories!

November 21: New music. Oh man, something about listening to a new song and knowing that it is going to be playing on the soundtrack of your life. My current faves are Ray LaMontagne's 'Can I Stay' and James Vincent McMorrow's 'If i had a boat'. And many thanks to Ray Ray & Hajie for their musical direction in my life :)

November 22: My Unlimited Movie Card... free movies anytime. Best present ever! This was gifted to me and it's the gift that keeps on giving. What better way to spend a cold Tuesday night in London Town then heading to the cinema with your besties.

November 23: My job! I really do love my job. I have been in the same job for 8 years and haven't looked back. I can honestly say that this job was made for me.

November 24: Warm cosy rugged-up nights in. With Winter fast approaching, it's easy to justify staying 'in' watching that old film and sharing a bottle of your favourite wine. Ah, wintertime snuggly bliss.

November 25: Hand Knitted scarves, oh how I adore thee. My favourite at the moment is the one my Aunty Jan made me last Christmas. It is truly divine!

November 26: Dinner parties > i love them. I love everything that a dinner party has to offer. Good friends, good food, good wine & a lot of laughter.

November 27: Outdoor Ice Skating! This little Australian never thought skating outside could ever be so much fun. Makes me feel like a little girl again. Also love all the unashamed hand holding that goes along with this.

November 28: My beautiful London family > both new and old. You know who you are :) I would not be still in London without you. So blessed to be doing this adventure called life with you!

November 29: Christmas Carols. I love that they so beautifully remind me of what Christmas really means.

{I will be sure to fill in the rest as the days pass... I just couldn't resist publishing it today > as it is, of course, Thanksgiving!}


Happy Thanksgiving, Beautiful Friends xx

Well hello there little mouse

In a house full of 6 girls, it has to be noted that there is never a dull moment. At any given time we each tend to have a number of crazy or beautiful or ridiculous or inspiring stories to tell.

And today, I will tell you the story of our little mouse.

This story starts a few weeks back with a little furry friend who had decided to take up residence in our much-loved kitchen. A few of us were sharing a lazy breakfast one Saturday morning when we heard something moving in the corner.

There was a few tiny squeaks, a rustling of paper, and a tiny little scampering noise. I know it is hard to believe, but our conversation was silenced by these tiny little noises. 

There was stillness. It was eerie.

We were silent, waiting in anticipation to find out where this noise was coming from.

We looked around at each other, trying to work out whether we should be scared or not. As a few more seconds rolled by without incident, we all relaxed a little. That was until one of the girls felt a warm tickling sensation scamper over her bare feet.

It a split second, there was collective high-pitched screaming that resulted in an automatic response that left us all standing on chairs and some of us even embracing the safety of standing on the kitchen table.

Honestly, I can't tell you how long we were all up there before we felt safe enough to retreat back to our usual breakfast positions. All i know is that this teeny tiny little creature had such an incredible hold over us. In that moment, I came to realise that in general, women never really learn that a mouse can't actually hurt you. I am pretty sure men learn this fairly early on, and tend to be aware of the direct correlation between the size of something and it's strength. We clearly are still trying to learn that one.

After about a week without a Stuart {Little} sighting, we thought perhaps he was just on holidays with us. In the meantime, we had some friends over for dinner and when they heard of our little mouse, the boys of the group smiled and gently told us that one mouse is never just one mouse... it is always a nest. Oh dear!

And later that week, we did find out that this was in fact the case. As it turns out, our very own Stuart, had gone off to invite Mrs Little and the whole Little family to reside here with us.

These desperate times did indeed call for some desperate measures. I mean if one little solo mouse had the ability to get 6 girls standing on top of the kitchen table, what would a whole family of mice do to us?

So a house meeting was scheduled.

TOPIC: Stuart's Eviction.

These were some of the notes taken:
1. We must not under any circumstance continue to call him Stuart. He must be 'Mouse intruder #1'. Some of the girls thought that if we personalise him too much, the trauma of his departure/death may be too much. 

2. Organic mousetraps versus the good old fashioned metal-springed torture traps. We were torn. Mainly because we did not like the consequence of any of the above traps. One way, you find a dead, squished, bulging eyed mouse, flattened between a piece of wood and a metal death bar; or conversely, you find a mouse, unharmed and alive, frantically crawling in a little box in your kitchen. Either way you still have to dispose of the mouse - and none of us are believed to have the emotional constitution to be able to deal with either of these situations. 

3. We could pray that the Little Family find another place of residence. I know it sounds crazy, and I must admit some of the housemates had an eye-roll kind of reaction. But hey, it's worth a go. We have been given a week to pray the mice away. If after that week, we still have the Little Family with us, I'm afraid it's onto other less humane forms of death, entrapment and eviction for poor little Stuart. 

So i guess this is a battle that only time will tell. 

In the mean time, if you see a knight in mouse-hunting armour, then please send him our way x

So, today I bought a man lunch...

So, today I bought a man lunch. Now, before you all applaud me on my exceptionally {and uncharacteristically} forward nature, I need to give you all a little bit of background...

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Let me set the scene.

Man sitting in the park on his lunch break. His bag sitting comfortably at his side, with his suit jacket placed over the seat; sitting there quietly with headphones in, potentially lavishing the little bit of warmth on the last day of the working week.

Did I notice him at first?
No.

Did my puppy notice his lunch sitting on top of his bag?
Yes.

I think you all know where this is going.

In a split second, my life went from a quiet, leisurely midday stroll with the puppy, to me apologising profusely to this hungry stranger.

After capturing the half eaten, dog-slobbered, turkey on rye, I decided that there was only one decent thing to do.

Buy the stranger lunch!

Despite his polite protests and slight amusement {thankfully} of the fact that my 'meant to be on a diet' puppy had just devoured his lunch, he allowed me to pay off my puppy's debt.

With puppy well and truly reprimanded and firmly on lead, I proceeded to walk with the stranger to the nearest sandwich bar. Polite conversation followed for the next few minutes with me interjecting every moment I could, with "i'm so sorry, she's honestly never done this before..."

And by the end of the journey down the high street, my puppy had made herself a new best friend. I genuinely don't know how she does it, but all it takes is 2 minutes for her to captivate the heart of every human she meets. And just maybe, that's a lesson for us all {the making new friends part, not the act of stealing someone's lunch...}

So with a new sandwich in his hand and another few apologies in the mix, we parted ways. And as the puppy and I walked home, i got to thinking about how many people i have actually met through this little furry creature on my lead.

And indeed, I even learnt two things today: 

Firstly, that puppies are an exceptionally easy way to make friends {pretty much on par with the whole man with a baby scenario}; and secondly, that you should never underestimate a dieting puppy.

The Birthday Cake

"What type of cake would you like me to make you for your birthday, Sebastian?"

As I asked this question this morning, I was aiming for an answer in the vicinity of 'chocolate please'. Thinking that my exceptionally ingenious idea to add smarties to the icing would rate me in his top ten favourite people of all time list. I could see the accolades now...

"A puppy cake!"

Er...right then, let me just take a few seconds to breathe and then work out a way to clear my jam-packed plan for the day. With this, I took off my much loved Personal Assistant hat and quite warily donned my Chef hat. Oh my!

And with that, I put on a load of washing, threw the kids and the puppy in the car, dropped the kids at school, dropped the puppy with the dog walker, collected the dry cleaning, sent a text to postpone the gardener, called the optometrist to confirm appointments and then made my way to the store.

And then, with all the ingredients set before me, I took a deep breath and began.

Once the sponge cakes were baked {and cooled} I was ready to go.

Icing

Then came the hard part...To make little blobs of icing actually look like puppies.

Honestly, this was the good one. You should have seen how the previous seventeen turned out.

The paw prints. Don't worry, I wasn't sure about these either, so I conducted a little survey mid decoration, and thankfully discovered that 7 out of 10 people actually thought that these looked like paw prints {without being prompted} 

And then there was one little puppy sitting on a cake. 

He looked so sad by himself so I had to make him a little friend. 

And there you have it. This is what my day looked like today. Complete with flour in my hair, icing all over my clothes & that sickness you get from eating too many of the failed puppy attempts.

So Happy Birthday, darling Sebastian. Here is your puppy cake x

What if...

What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?

What a challenging thought. Not that life really works like this, but it certainly makes you think.

Last week I was reminded about how important it is that we are thankful. Thankful for the things that we have in our lives & indeed, thankful for the things that are yet to come.

I was humbled by a dear sweet friend of mine, who has recently battled a journey of heartbreak and loss. Through it all, she continued to stand strong, with determination, she spoke words that would profess her thankful heart for the good things in her life. 

I am thankful, so very thankful, that through my friend's courage, I have been given a little perspective.

What are you thankful for today?


x

What a Magnificent Revolution

Welcome to London, the place where anything goes and no one thinks twice.

I'm always looking for new and interesting things to do in this amazing city and today, I was not disappointed. Just think drive-in movies and then take it to another level.

Enter: the good old fashioned bicycle.

Yep that's right, folks, the Cycle-In Cinema has come to London. The concept is simple, you pedal to generate the power needed to screen the film.

At any one time, to run a film, the powered cinema system uses 8 bikes and 16 legs to power a 4000 Lumen projector and 500W of audio equipment for screening films or projections. The bicycles can be arranged in a variety of formations.

Their specially designed bike generators will be setup and ready for anyone who would like to bring their bike and participate. With bike or without, they encourage everyone to have a go.

So don't be shy. Head out to Hackney City Farm on your bike, with your friends or that special someone you want to woo with your cycling prowess. Remember to take a blanket and an FM Radio to tune into the film with.

And just a heads up, THE PRINCESS BRIDE is playing on Sunday 28th August {seriously you can't go wrong with this film}

Hackney City Farm, 1a Goldsmiths Row, E2 8QA
Gates open – 8pm / Film starts 8.30pm
FREE (£5 suggested donation)

So get your pedalling feet on and remember to pack a picnic - the Outdoor Cycle Cinema has arrived!

x

Dear Iris and Light...

... i simply LOVE your work!

A close {photographer} friend of mine sent me a link this morning. It has to be one of the most beautiful pieces of cinematography I have seen in a while.

I watched 'Go Do' {I won't tell you how many times over} and had shivers. It was stunning & powerful & beautiful & breathtaking.

Go Do from IRIS AND LIGHT on Vimeo.

I love that there are such amazingly talented little creatives on the planet. Iris and Light are a team of photographers & cinematographers who seem to take great ease in capturing the tangible beauty and passion of life. I must admit though, that it does help that the couple in this particular film are ridiculously good looking...but i'm sure that with with all their creative genius, they could totally make the rest of us mere mortals look good.

So with that, I'm off to start an 'Iris and Light' savings account.

Until then, I will love your work from afar!

x

To tattoo or not to tattoo

{Dear Mum, I think you should stop reading this now - go to your happy place & I will be there, sans tattoo}

So here's the thing. I think I kind of want a tattoo.

Now, not saying that I will actually go through with it, but i'm not going to lie to you, I have been thinking about it a lot. My daily commute takes me past a little tattoo parlour {do they still call them that? Kind of reminds me of an ice-cream parlour, which can only be good, right?} Anyways, so almost everyday I am confronted with the thought, to tattoo or not to tattoo? 

The place is always hiving with a mass of über cool heavy-metal rockers, bikers & the heavily pierced, so potentially this is not the place for me to get inked {look at me with all my tattoo appropriate lingo. I feel tougher already}

However, having said all of this, there are still 3, no 4, little stumbling blocks I need to overcome before I decide to get a tattoo.

Number One: My mother.

I still remember having a conversation with my beloved brother after he had his sleeve filled in on his right arm. The somewhat naive question: 

"You think Mum will notice?" 

My response was along the lines of:

"Er, yeah Andrew, i'm pretty sure that unless you wear long sleeved shirts for the rest of your life, I think she might just notice the octopus that's attacking your right arm."

Number Two: Miami Ink.

I don't know if any of you have seen this show, but it scares the daylights out of me. The sheer glimpse of this show makes my knees buckle and causes me to break out in a sweat similar to an acute case of Dengue fever. So perhaps I do not have the emotional, mental & physical constitution to join the tattoo club.

Number Three: I don't know what I want.

Although I have been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo for a while, I have not been able to decide what I want. Do I want words or poetry or a verse or a picture or a symbol. Augh... such a big decision. I mean I don't want to have a tattoo for a week and think, 'man, I should have thought this one through a bit more'. As I say this, I am mentally taking myself back to the 3 weeks of 'henna-regret' I had to endure - but that is a story for another day. All I will say is that wine & henna does not mix!

Number Four: My little miss 'social media extraordinaire' friend.

She is one of my dearest friends, her creativity astounds me and I take comfort in her honesty. I seem to grace her with a daily WhatsAp image of my latest tattoo idea with the text "What about this one?"

She likes most of them but her overall argument is "Amy, what if your future husband does not like tattoos?" 

Eish.

So, I guess I am waiting for my stumbling blocks to fall. Until then, I will continue my quest to find the perfect tattoo.

Much love, the un-inked {for the moment} girl!

xx