I Drank The Whole Bottle...

Let's try and remember this in 2012

2012-01-25T14:19:00.000Z

Tell me I don't know how to spend £100

2012-01-23T12:48:00.000Z

Before Christmas I made a bet with my boss regarding some protected time we had scheduled. Long story short, I won the bet and two days before Christmas, besides giving me a lovely gift, she handed me a a card with £100 enclosed. I tried to give it back as the point I was trying to make had been made, yet she cheerfully wouldn't take it back and promised that next year, she wouldn't be losing. I laughed and begrudgingly took the money while promising myself I wouldn't fritter it away and would save it for something special.

Something special turned out to be:

Having my nails done in a shellac french manicure on Friday (it will last a few weeks).

On Saturday, Beryl and I met Andy for a coffee in town before heading to one of our favourite shopping areas for lunch and a bit of browsing, where I spent the rest of my winnings on these steals:

I know that these aren't my usual clunky heeled style, and of course Irregular Choice and Poetic Justice aren't to everyone's taste, however you cannot deny these aren't hotness personified:

Regularly priced at £95, I got them for nearly 1/2 price!

If you know me at all, you know I adore owls. I think I will call this little fellow Archer:

Call me sad if you will, but I do spend a lot of time in the kitchen. I normally only wear my one apron when I'm baking. I couldn't resist this and I almost wish it was a dress:

My sister's most recent post was about her fascination with shoes (yes it runs in our family) and work out gear. She managed to secure a load of great work-out gear at a great price and it makes me wish (not for the first time) that we had a Joe's here. I don't ever spend a lot of money on work-out clothes and don't think I ever will, not when my money can be spent on great shoes instead. However it got me to thinking that I really need to consider getting some new gear for myself as I've never been too fussy about what I wear to the gym. My sister Stacy will be pleased to hear that an old pair of work-out pants she gave me over six years ago (and that are now way too big) have finally given up the ghost and will be thrown out (although they could be sewn up ;)

I think a trip to TK Maxx is in order where I can purchase my usual favourites like Nike and Elle Sport; somethine to go nicely with the multitude of warm up jackets I have in such a range of pretty colours.

Oh, and I can't forget my latest find. My friend left a link on Tawny's blog regarding her favourite kind of footwear and of course I had to take a peek. I am now coveting these beauties:

(Yes, both pairs, but especially the blue ones)

I have no idea how much they cost (the website wouldn't let me check prices for some reason). Also, because they are an Italian range and I'm not sure if they ship to the UK, I can only dream.

For now.

I really need a hobby...

2012-01-18T12:33:00.002Z

Last week was an awesome week. I stuck to all my goals; that is I made healthy food choices and worked out quite regularly.   And I felt good. Really good. Then Sunday rolled round and I started feeling unwell so I didn't get to the gym; Though I do think most of my health problems at the moment are mental, not physical. Tonight I'm sorting myself out with a vigorous work out and will get back to making and eating healthy food because for me, it's the best thing to do. The week doesn't have to be a complete write off because I've let myself go for a few days. I don't want to make this post into a healthy food debate or whatnot. I just have to express that when I'm not eating right, or working out, I don't feel particularly good. It goes hand in hand with my mental health.

I'm fighting a number of issues that tend to bring me down, besides not taking care of myself properly. I'm probably feeling low because it's now coming up on nearly a year since I've seen my mom and sister, longer since I've seen other family members. I don't think the weather here helps much either. Although it's been sunny and crisp the last couple of days, I'd much prefer it if we would get hit with a big snowstorm, or the weather would turn spring like. This middle of the road crap is frustrating - I never know how to dress when I'm walking the dog. Ultimately what brings me the lowest is when I let myself fall astray of the healthy lifestyle I'm trying to maintain.

So I will fix this issue. Tonight. And stop boring you with the details. Because when I actually see what it is I'm complaining about, I realise I need to just shut up and get on with it. There are people out there with much harder issues to contend with. I bet some of you are rolling your eyes right now at the thought of me complaining that I really don't have enough to do besides go home, make dinner, maybe hoover, work-out, walk the dog and then the night is my own.... ok, I will get over myself already.

I think what I need is a hobby, a hobby that doesn't involve the the gym or reading. One that also doesn't involve taking a class (it's not always convenient to leave the house in the evening as I work full-time and can't leave Molly too often at night). I've tried jewellery making and Spanish classes in the past.  I've been thinking of learning to play guitar, but I don't think I would practice enough. Cooking and baking? Well I love it, and it's a good pastime for sure, except I'm not the sort of baker who doesn't sample the end result, so I try to save this hobby for the weekends. I would love to have an athletic style hobby (as that would cancel out the gym one night a week) and debated a pole dancing class (don't laugh, the benefit and physical results are amazing), yet they don't offer a class in this one-horse town. The same goes for skiing or rock-climbing.

I'm thinking I might start meal planning as a) it involves spending time doing something other than watching tv and snacking and b) will hopefully make life a bit easier. But then I wonder what the point would be as come the end of the month, Andy is back on the road and it will be solo dinners for me and how much planning is really required for a dinner a-la one?? Of course I could make various dishes on the weekend to freeze and eat for lunch and dinner mid week so I will put it on my 'maybe' list.

Short of having Beryl teach me to knit or crochet, I really am stuck for ideas. Any suggestions would be appreciated. This really should be the year that I stop the ridiculous self-deprecating behaviour regarding food and just get on with living.  After all, there is so much good in my life and I have so many great times to look forward to.   I really do, if I can just bear the waiting for it all to happen :)

My take on finding a healthy balance (warning, this is a long post)

2012-01-12T09:43:00.001Z

With it being a new year, there seems to be a great number of discussions taking place regarding body size, body image, etc. It’s normally what happens around this time. For some of us, it’s an ongoing battle in our heads that is played out nearly every day. For some of you, it’s probably safe to say, every hour. Because there is so much out there, I decided I'd jump on the bandwagon too.

I am a slightly overweight, but fit woman of 38. I work out fairly regularly, and watch what I eat most of the time. Yet I have a big problem with food; so much so that I have an ongoing battle with an eating disorder. It’s not a daily battle, not even a monthly battle, although on some occasions it can become just that. I thought I’d beaten it a few years back, but nada. It still rears its ugly head from time to time and at those times I could just hate myself. Nothing makes me feel like a bigger failure. Despite what the professionals have said it doesn’t make me feel in control. Ok, maybe it does, for about five minutes, but then I feel as if I’ve lost complete control of myself and that is hard. So very hard. I say that I'm healthy, but am I really? For the most part, yes. Yet some people would argue with me on that point. There is a new post on the CGG that discusses judging a person's health based on appearence alone. I think the author nailed it. See for yourself here. Do I blame anyone but myself for what's wrong with me? I could, but I don't.

My sister often blogs about what she eats, and the amount of exercise she does as well as how she is choosing to raise her daughter. This brings me to the conclusion that she too, also has an issue with food and body image. Probably over-thinks it like I do, something I’m sure she will admit, even though she’s a healthy girl. I think she also tries to justify herself for a lot of the decisions she makes, and unnecessarily so.

I think my siblings and I will always have an issue with body image and food. We are the children of an obese man, one who claims his weight doesn’t bother him. We all also know that this isn’t true. Dad suffers from a number of health issues that are related to his weight. He will often deny that one has anything to do with the other. But still, I’m not blaming him for the way we are all so obsessed with body image and food. Besides, our mom takes care of herself physically, always has, and doesn’t seem to obsess about. If only I could be more like her in that regard (I’m like her in so many other ways I’m told). But then again, I don’t have her small frame.

My sister Stacy has lost over 70lbs. A dear friend has lost over 85 lbs just this year and says that she knew she was unfit, but didn’t realize exactly how out of shape and unhealthy she felt. Until now. I lost around 30 lbs almost 9 years ago following weight watchers. I’ve managed to keep most of it off. Did I feel better physically? A bit, I was certainly in better shape, but even though I had been almost 200lbs I worked out a lot and could do more exercise than a lot of friends half my size. I I did however feel better in myself, in the fact that clothes shopping was much more fun and that I looked a lot better in my clothes, as well as in photos. Therefore I felt better about myself…. and my food choices had become a lot healthier.

I spent most of my teenage youth being made fun of for the way I looked and as I’ve blogged about this before, I will spare you the story again. Of course most of you can probably relate to this. It seemed that by the time I was 18 I was coming into my own, with a much more positive self image. I know my mom felt better about this as she knew how much I struggled as a teen. Never once did she make me feel less than perfect or nag me about my weight, although she did encourage me to make better choices. I loved her for this, and still do. I have a cousin who is seriously obese. She knows that she needs to do something, but hasn’t yet found her way. It’s hard for me to see her struggle, and even harder for me when her mom pleads with me to help her daughter do something. However I can’t help her until she is ready to do something for herself.

My friend, the one who has lost over 85lbs, has a 17 year old daughter who probably weighs around 230 lbs. Sure she’s nearly 6ft tall but it is evident that she is quite overweight. Her mom has been stressing for years that she has passed her unhealthy eating issues on to her daughter; she worries that she nags her too much about the way she wears her clothes, especially since her daughter is an outgoing, confident young woman who doesn’t seem to have the same body image issues as her mom. Maybe this is a good thing, maybe not. Only that young woman knows how she really feels about her weight and if she’s happy, then shouldn’t her mom be good with that? Yet I know that her mom worries for her future, as she sees her daughter’s weight creep higher with each year and reckons that she will end up seriously obese, as she herself did. It’s a justifiable concern. I don't believe any parent hopes and dreams their child will grow to be obese.

Tasha isn’t my flesh and blood daughter (I often tease her about not wanting to be referred to as her old step-mom) but she is a daughter just the same. Like most of us girls I know she has fluctuated with her weight, although she never lets it get out control. I've heard her sometimes comment over the fact she has a round bum. I personally think her bum is fantastic and I tell her this. If she wears something that doesn’t flatter her figure I wouldn’t say anything unless asked. When I went shopping with her for her grad dress I just tried to gently steer her away from dresses that didn’t flatter her tummy. And I always tell her when she has something on that looks amazing. It’s kind of my way of saying without saying, that it’s a style that works better for her than others. I’d like to think I’d be the same way with my own daughter. Tasha and I wear the same size trousers yet she wears a bikini with ease and confidence and although she isn’t typically 'thin', she looks absolutely fine, comfortable in her own skin; I will only wear a bikini in front of a few select people. In this case, who do you seriously think has the better attitude? I’m envious, let me tell you.

How do I feel about young girls bearing mid-drifts that aren’t typically considered acceptable for show by society? That’s a tough one because what's acceptable to me, might not be to you. I remember taking my god-daughter and a few other young girls to the beach when they were about 12. I loved that they were all wearing bikinis and having fun, obviously not obsessed with the fact that they had adolescent, rounded tummies. God, if only I’d been that comfortable at their age. Again, I think it’s much healthier to feel that way, then the way I have felt my whole life.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this: There is too much damn pressure on all of us to have flat stomachs, which aren’t the true and only factor of a healthy body. If you feel confident with the way you look then that’s fantastic. I don’t think it’s for anybody else to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. There are those women who work out and keep really fit yet might be hanging on to an extra 30 lbs. That doesn’t make them unhealthy, not at all. As Stacy has told me, there is such a thing as skinny fat, people who are slim, yet very unfit. I’d rather look like me, than be skinny and not able to do 30 minutes on the cross trainer without getting breathless.

However, if a person is considerably overweight and tries to tell me they are comfortable in their own skin and feel great the way they are, I’m going to have a hard time believing that.. But if this is really the truth, then I envy you in some ways. Maybe you are in a healthier place than I am - at least mentally.

I think us women need to find a better balance between our bodies and how we feel. I don’t think it’s good to spend so much time stressing over how we look, what we wear and how much we weigh. Never mind the insecurities and issues we might be unknowingly pressing on to our children with our obsessive behaviour. They are going to be who they are. We can only guide them with the best of our intentions. And they will probably still blame us for how they’ve turned out (what am I saying? They will). Either way, they are going to have their own hopes and dreams and certainly this will vary from what we have hoped for. It’s happened in my home, it will likely happen in yours. All that Andy and I hope for now? That they are happy and lead a balanced life.
In relation to my health? Well I’m going to do what’s best for me. I don’t have a need to explain why I eat what I do, or what ingredients I use (only to myself). I’m not judging any of you and I’m not asking you to judge me. I think frankly, this topic has gotten way too out of hand and the world is becoming much too obsessed over everything. It’s everywhere I turn these days.

We all need to just live our lives and stop worrying about how everyone else perceives us. If you want to eat fast food or organic food, or only drink wine for your dinner that is your business, you don’t have to justify your reasons. I don’t think my friend who won’t drink coffee and only eats organic food is a better person than the one who lives on coffee and eats pizza three times a week. It’s your decision regarding what you consume and you have your own reasons for choosing to eat the way you do. But we need to be more forgiving of each other and stop passing judgement for not making the same choices, not matter what those choices are. (My husband is probably thinking I should take my own advice when it comes to him, perhaps I should, but I worry about his health.)

When it comes to me, I’m my own worst critic. As I’m sure you are.

Feeling the burn

2012-01-09T16:12:00.001Z

This weekend I finally got my arse back to a spin class and although it was only 45 minutes and I haven’t officially been spinning for a few months, I think I kept up quite well. I was initially annoyed that the spin instructor was still in the training process and had to keep checking his notes; never mind the fact that he didn’t even sit on his own bike once. However because he was adorable and somewhat engaging, I decided to get over it, as it needn’t adversely affect my workout. I had just been complaining about spin class to one of the more qualified trainers/class instructors at the gym on Friday during my workout. I can’t help but feel dismay with the poor calibre of spin instructors that have been at the front of class in recent months. I want someone up there is who going to be commanding, fun and full of drive. The trainer assured me that they were working on it. I’ll be curious to see what happens because I sure wouldn’t want to be paying the full rate for unqualified instructors (I pay £10 less than the newly inflated rate and will leave if they try and increase it.)

However I gave it my best on Saturday morning and loved being back in the saddle; I didn’t even mind catching glimpses of myself in the mirror, not considering that it was two weeks after the holidays and I didn’t look all that bad. (The only real issue I had was my knee and the fear that it was going to give up on me during one of the hill climbs.)

After class I wiped up my puddle of sweat (yes you heard right) zipped up my new fuchsia warm up jacket (which just happens to match my water bottle perfectly) and headed home to find out that my husband had been putting in time on the stationary bike himself. With a holiday home to Nova Scotia this summer and of course the trip early next year, Andy has decided to join me in the quest to be healthy and fit. If he can leave the bags of Malteasers alone I think he might just achieve his goal.

I’d forgotten how hard spinning can be on other parts of the body after an extended absence. Since I’ve been riding the stationary bike at home, I didn’t have the normal ‘seat’ issues after class, but I did spend the weekend feeling the after effects across my shoulders, so much that I didn’t sleep much on Saturday night. I’m lucky that I have such an indulgent husband who gave me more than one shoulder rub… it’s also an added perk owning a Jacuzzi as it sure helps with sore muscles.

I will try and log a monthly update of our achievements on this site as being publicly accountable might just be an added incentive.

Taking back my number

2012-01-03T16:03:00.001Z

Hello Readers!

I hope you all welcomed 2012 in with lots of optimism and joy; and if not, then I hope you at least had a few drinks or retired to bed early. Either way, it’s here. Another new year; and with each new year, I often set myself a goal for losing weight. Sometimes I keep to my resolution and sometimes I don’t manage to do so well. What I do manage to do each year is to stay healthy and keep my fitness levels up and I plan to do the same this year. I’m much fitter at 38 than I was at 28.

For 2012, I had a number in my head that I’d like to see reflected on the scales, however I’m going to ignore it for the time being… I’m refusing to make it a New Year Resolution and will instead take a page (yet again) from The Curvy Girl Guide and give myself a number that is individual to me, the number that matters the most to me in 2012.(You can read about it here).

My number for myself this year is 40.

Although I’m not turning 40 until January of 2013, I have to get myself prepared for this. I want to be able to embrace 40 (notice how many times I’m throwing it out there? 40. The more I say it, the easier it should be to say in another 388 days.) So many women really embrace turning 40, some say it’s the new 20 (although you can keep 20, it was one of the worst years of my life) and as much as I want to welcome 40 with a warm, fuzzy hug, it’s not proving easy and deep down I’m really not looking forward to it.

So what I’m going to try and do is spend this year getting my head around the fact that I will be turning 40, that there is nothing that will stop it short of my dying, and I definitely don’t want to avoid it that much.

The first thing I have done to ensure that I turn 40 with a major smile on my face is to arrange to be in paradise with my husband on the big day:

Meeru Island, The Maldives (Now we just have to find a way to pay for it.)

If I can’t be with family and friends from both sides of the ocean, then I choose to be in this place. (Hell, as much as I love them all, I still choose to be in paradise for my 40th).

What booking a vacation in this amazing place will also do is (hopefully) ensure that I work a little bit harder to get myself in better condition physically. Can I dare hope that I not only turn 40, but that I’m 40, fit and fabulous?

So 40 is my number for 2012. It gives me something to work hard for in order that I reap the rewards, both physically and mentally.

I’d love it if you’d all participate… either publish your own personal number for 2012 on your own sites, or leave me a comment as to what your number is and why.

The end of another year...

2011-12-31T16:09:00.001Z

What a year it has been; Andy keeps saying he can’t wait for it to be over, yet when I think back over the last year I can’t say it’s been all bad. Although it has been difficult at times, there have been a lot of good to match the not-so-good. I think this is the way it normally goes with each year, within every family. 2010 was much the same.

Here is a rundown of the year in review, 2011 as perceived from my skewed view:

January: was devastating with the news of hearing my 43 year old friend died suddenly and unexpectedly;

Feb: despite the sad start to the year, I managed to get home and spend a few weeks with my mom and family. Also, while I was at home, we received word of the birth of our 2nd niece, Daisy.

March: another good month, with a fabulous, indulgent long weekend to London to celebrate our friend Dawn’s 50th.

April: things were starting to break down with Alex in a very unsettling way; I participated in a blog 30 Day blog challenge with my sister which was a great distraction as well as for reminiscing over better times. It also increased my blog posts (I’ve beaten last year’s grand total which can most likely be attributed to this month).

May: Asking Alex to leave home in May was one of the hardest things I have ever done and I can’t help but think if I hadn’t asked him to go, might he be in a different place right now? However I can’t dwell on this – you can’t turn back time and although it was hard for all concerned, I think it taught him a few life lessons he needed to learn.

June: Brought with it another bright light, my brother; we also celebrated our Tasha’s 21st birthday.

July: We had our biggest Canada BBQ to date – it was a great time and an opportunity for all to get to know my brother. We also had a great trip to Wales with John in the same week.

August: Was a disquieting month, what with the riots taking place all over the UK, especially London. We also gave up on the idea of having a sun-filled summer. It was during August that Molly developed her skin irritation, something we are still trying to sort out. We also found out that our boy (yes boy) was going to be a father. Although we are coming to terms with this fact, it’s still a hard pill to swallow at times. He and his girlfriend are just so young.

September: Prior to my brother’s departure, we spend a couple of days in the Lake District, which is never disappointing.

October: I made my first Canadian Thankgsiving Dinner for Andy’s family; it was lovely to have everyone around the table celebrating all that we have to be thankful for.

November: Three days in Paris, need I say more?

December: Was a busy month getting ready for Christmas; all broken fences between Alex and his dad have now been mended and we thoroughly enjoyed a family Christmas together. We also celebrated Christmas with our close friends Robert and Dawn, you can't beat champagne with dear friends on Christmas morning.

We of course will be celebrating New Year's Eve with them as well, as is our usual. Bring on the champagne, games and lot's of laughs.

Wishing you all a safe and happy New Year. May 2012 bring you all peace, love and joy. Oh, and lots of laughs too.

I'd like to send out wishes to an old friend who celebrates her birthday on this day as well; I'm not sure if she still pops in to visit this site, but just in case, Happy Birthday Paula!

A Champagne Fuelled McAllenby Christmas

2011-12-30T15:35:00.001Z

We kicked off our Christmas celebrations on the Friday afternoon before Christmas Eve by meeting our friends Robert and Dawn at the Harvest Moon for a few drinks, which as I mentioned in my previous post, was a great way to begin the festivities.

We headed out to my friend Jayne's place on the Friday night for her Christmas Shed Party, which although cold, was still an adventure. (What she calls a shed, we call a cabin ;)

Andy and I went for our usual feed of Thai on Christmas Eve and when we got home, Dawn and Robert popped in for a cranberry/champagne cocktail and a few photos before heading back to their boys.

Andy and I enjoyed a quiet night in watching It's a Wonderful Life and woke up early on Christmas Day to get the turkey prepped, open our presents and of course, enjoy a glass of bubbly in the hot tub. What a way to start Christmas day eh?

We then got dressed in our Christmas best and headed over to Dawn and Roberts to see what bounty they had scored and of course to enjoy yet another glass of bubbly (with orange juice of course).

I love the new dress my husband got me for Christmas :)

Dawn with Cameron (who is showing off his classy new robe)

We then headed up to Andy's parents to bring our gifts and see his sister Claire, who enjoys Christmas (especially the presents) as much as an eight year old does.

Andy's mum and dad.

I went home and called home as I knew by then that they would be up. I chatted for a few minutes each with my mom, sister and brother before I rang off. I hung up the phone with a lump in my throat, but quickly turned to getting the prep ready for Christmas Dinner.

Wendy, Dave and Claire turned up shortly after to share Christmas Dinner, which left us stuffed and uncomfortable (as usual). The kids turned up a short while later to open their presents and stay for the night.

We had a few minutes on Skype with my sister Tawny and Clara, (I loved hearing all the kids comment on how adorable Clara is) then we all got down to playing a board game that my sister had sent us for Christmas.

All in all, a very successful and joyous day.

Boxing Day saw the arrival of Alison, Scott and Daisy and the annual buffet at Wendy's. We have more pictures, but they are on Andy's camera and I haven't downloaded them yet.

I did capture this one though, as we came back from Wendy's and it's one of my favourite from this Christmas:

My handsome man and his beautiful daughter.

Now it's time to get ready to celebrate the New Year.

I think more champagne is definitely in order!

Cranberry Sauce and Cookies

2011-12-29T15:30:00.000Z

It's no secret that I have done a lot of baking over the last month. To cut down on eating copious amounts myself, I have been putting them in pretty Christmas boxes and handing them out to my

friends children, Andy's sister Claire and our nephew Archie. (I had also frozen a bunch to put out for the kids and family over Christmas.)

Because I like to make my own cranberry sauce, on Christmas Eve morning I tried out a new recipe for a cranberry-pear sauce and decided to put some in a few little jars to give out to friends that I would be seeing later that day, along with the cookies.

I think it all looked rather pretty and I took great joy in giving out gifts that I'd taken the time to make myself. (The cranberry sauce was good thankfully, if not a little bit tart - but hey, they are cranberries afterall.)

I ended up taking last Friday off to ensure I had just about everything ready and it turned out to be a great decision. Andy and I did what needed doing in the morning and by mid-afternoon we were free to meet up with Robert and Dawn in our local for a few glasses of wine. It was festive and relaxing and a brilliant way to kick off the season.

We've had a lovely Christmas and I will be back tomorrow to share a few photos with you.

Almost all wrapped up

2011-12-22T15:17:00.000Z

Late yesterday afternoon I finished all my Christmas shopping (well except for one last item I needed to pick up this morning). Andy and I did the food shop on Tuesday night. I’m a little bit impressed with us so far this season.

I got home last night and after making Andy a few sandwiches and giving Molly her antibiotics, I got to work baking a few more goodies. Lord knows I don’t need any, but the kids seem to appreciate them. After the last batch of my mom’s chocolate chip oatmeal cookies came out of the oven, I realised it was 9:00 pm and I still hadn’t had any tea (dinner/supper – whatever you wish to call it). If you know anything about me, it’s that Jody never forgets to eat. Ever. I also never refer to myself in the 3rd person but look what just happened.

After I had a light snack, I got to work wrapping a few more presents:

(I wish I could wrap the presents for my mom and sisters in Canada like this, but they just don’t end up looking quite the same when they’ve been sent in the post).

Although I’m not a fantastic present wrapper, I don’t think I do too badly at all and rather enjoy wrapping gifts up in pretty paper and bows. I am currently suffering from a bit of tag envy though, upon seeing the stash of really cute tags my sister has on hand.

I only have about 12 more presents to wrap and as I’m having the day off tomorrow I know I won’t be rushing to get them wrapped on Christmas Eve. I have too many people to visit and a cocktail that I’m dying to try out that I want to share with my friend Dawn. Hopefully we can manage to find an hour together before Christmas morning, when Andy and I will be dropping in at Dawn and Robert’s for a glass of Christmas cheer.

This is the drink I’m so excited to try out:

Courtesy of The Curvy Girl Guide . It’s pretty and festive and I hope it tastes as delectable as it looks.

Hopefully I will find a moment to pop in and give you a few more photos or an update tomorrow or Saturday. I also hope all your Christmas prep is going to plan and you aren’t getting wrapped up in all the stress that so many people find themselves in during this festive season.

Someone is not very impressed

2011-12-21T15:31:00.000Z

If she could cry, I'm sure she would. I don't know if it would be from humiliation or from being so damn uncomfortable. Probably both. She just hangs her head after it's been put on and barely moves her tail when I speak to her. There is no way to explain to her that its only to help keep her from licking off the cream that will help to heal her skin rash. At least she only needs to wear it when we aren't at home, which from the end of the day tomorrow will be most of the time, since Andy will be finished until after the New Year.

Me? I can't help but chuckle at how funny it looks, especially because she is so clumsy with it; however leaving her so depressed this morning almost broke my heart.

Poor Molly.

(Andy and I will make sure she has a few extra toys under the tree this year as she can't have any goodies, not even the doggy kind).

A little too much Christmas Cheer :)

2011-12-20T22:38:00.002Z

We share office space with the Occupational Therapists and to celebrate Christmas jointly, we all agreed last Friday that we would each bring in an edible goody and hope to have a few different snacks to indulge in throughout the day. The food on the table turned out to be pretty impressive, ranging from homemade onion bhajis, somosa’s, home-made sausage rolls and flans, to the Philly Cheese Ball that I make (which was a major hit as most Brits seem to have never seen or tasted one and always seem to love it.) Of course there were plenty of sweets on offer: coffee cake with mascarpone cheese icing, gorgeous brownies and these:

Needless to say I didn’t end up eating any dinner before I went out with Sarah and Joanne on Friday night for a much needed Christmas drink. We haven’t been out together since March and although we were missing one of our quartet (Sharon), we had a fabulous night full of laughter and drinks. We only shared two starters upon arriving at the pub which would definitely be the main factor for becoming so intoxicated so quickly. If I’ve learned anything from Friday night (besides that I’m an emotional idiot but that’s not really news to anyone) it’s this: I can’t drink like I did when I was 25 and still expect to spend the next day shopping or doing errands.

However, I did manage to run two errands but only because Andy was driving. (I am grown up enough to know that a person shouldn’t even drive the next day after drinking so much.) I remember so clearly the days when Cat and I used to tear up the town by night and be out back on it again by lunch time the next day, yet it seems a whole lifetime ago; misspent youth, how I miss you at times. Thankfully I have seldom been privy to the barf brigade after copious amount of alcohol. That at least hasn’t changed.

It’s actually the reverse on the odd occasion where I am hung over (I’ve always been fortunate to not suffer from a bad hang over) as I indulge in way too much rubbish food. Saturday night I actually suggested we order Chinese and I never do that. We were told it would take approximately an hour. An hour and a half later we were just calling to see where it was when the delivery guy pulled up outside. Connor yelped with glee, only to discover the guy was going next door. WTF? Seriously, what are the odds. We were just cancelling at the two hour mark when if finally turned up. I think we were all ready to eat the coffee table by this point. Normally we would have refused it but no way was I letting it get sent back... I needed me some chowmein. The worst part? They still charged us full price for barely warm food. It’s doubtful we will be ringing that place anytime soon.

On Sunday morning I woke up with eye’s that were nearly swollen shut. It could have been a reaction to something I rammed in my mouth the day before, or a delayed reaction to the alcohol, I don’t know. I wasn’t best pleased as we were out for a lunch to celebrate the fact that Andy’s sister Alison and brother Adrian, as well as Ali’s husband Scott turned 40 on Friday. Yup, you heard me right.

All three of them on the same day:

My eyes were luckily much better by lunch, but by no means suitable for photos. I did however manage to capture some great photos of little Daisy. They are on the camera waiting to be uploaded, however I caught this one that I think is adorable on my phone:

So this week I’m catching up on all the things I didn’t get a chance to do on Saturday, like finish up my Christmas shopping and wrapping. I’m not sweating it though; as crowded as the shops are and despite not having any time off before Christmas Eve, it will still all get done. Fingers crossed though that the present I ordered for Connor online turns up by Friday!

I don't suffer from the Christmas Card Craze

2011-12-14T13:39:00.000Z

This time of year is a hectic time of year for so many people. It could be for me, if I was that way inclined but I’m not. I don’t mind Christmas shopping (for the most part), I like baking, I have a husband who is fantastic about helping out around the house and I love Christmas parties. I no longer stress over cooking Christmas dinner because I have finally figured out how a turkey should be cooked. Wrapped in bacon all the way baby. So you see, I really have nothing to worry about other than enjoying the season.

A number of people have been telling me how stressed they are and I can only chuckle. I believe that you are only as stressed as you let yourself be (this is excluding single working parents – I can’t imagine the stress you experience everyday, never mind at Christmas). I find it amusing that people are getting anxious over writing Christmas cards. My answer to that? Don’t send them if it has become such a chore. I love getting Christmas cards from family and friends I don’t get to see very often but I really don’t get the point of a card that just has someone’s named signed to it; obviously if you can’t take a second to write a brief message then you are only sending a card out of a sense of obligation. I don’t send any out, other than to family back in Canada but I think I forgot to put them in the package I sent home with my brother in September. I don’t give them out to colleagues or neighbours either as I just can’t be bothered.

What I find incredibly hard at this time of year (and will come as no surprise to any of you) is that I miss my family terribly. So, so terribly. I want to be doing last minute shopping with my sister and then sit for awhile drinking lattes as we laugh and talk; I want to be there to eat Dad’s tray of nibbles as we watch A Wonderful Life as my Aunts and Uncle pop in and out throughout the evening on Christmas Eve. I don’t think I will ever stop missing my little sister coming to wake me on Christmas morning. I don’t know when I will next get to sit around my mom’s table on Christmas Day and share a meal with them… my husband has never been home with me for Christmas and I haven’t had a Christmas with them in six years now. It’s a long time, yet the ticket prices are usually so extortionate. Maybe next year (something I unfortunately say every year)…. My mom told me the other day that my sister Sandra was flying in on Christmas morning. My first reaction was joy for mom, but then envy for me. What a Christmas gift to give my mother, better than any present that will be under the tree.

Speaking of trees, we had some friends over on Saturday night to help adorn the tree. This was the result:

(Not the best photo as it was taken with my mobile, however I'm sure you will see a few more over the next few weeks.)

As usual, I ended up with some amazing new decorations for the tree, ones that I will remember fondly in years to come. (I always ask those who are coming to help for the first time to bring a decoration for the tree). A new friend came and was dismayed that she got the colour scheme wrong yet I told her no worries, when I see that one red bauble it will make me think of her; it’s quirky and fun like she is and I’m hardly one to stress over the fact that my tree might not be a vision of perfection in someone else’s eyes.

What are your most and least favorite things about the holiday season? (from Plinky.com)

2011-12-08T16:01:00.001Z

Most favourite:

Picking out our fresh Christmas tree, then seeing it decorated in our living room;
The feeling I get on Christmas Eve… it’s hard to explain but ties it in with old family traditions.
Gathering with friends and family, eating, drinking and playing games (on Christmas Day and afterwards);
Bailey’s Irish Cream;
Waking up on Christmas morning – I still have the expectant/hopeful feeling I had when I was little;
The parties;
Buck’s Fizz on Christmas morning (champagne and orange juice);
Baking cookies for the kids;
The movies – especially Elf, The Family Stone and It’s a Wonderful Life;
Receiving cards in the post from those far away;
Wrapping presents

Least Favourite:

How materialistic it has all become.
How angry and rude fellow shoppers are, especially in parking lots
Being away from my family and friends who are thousands of miles away
The feeling I get on Christmas Eve… it’s hard to explain but it ties in with old family traditions;
Wrapping presents (I know, another one that is a catch 22 for me!)
The hassle of packing everything away when it’s all over (although I’m usually more than ready to take it all down).

Although I often claim to not be overly bothered about Christmas one way or the other, I like that my most favourite things about Christmas outnumber my least favourite. It’s a great time of year, so long as we don’t lose sight of what is important to us.

I also don’t get overly stressed at this time of year like so many others because I’m not a perfectionist and I think Christmas is meant to be enjoyed, not stressed over. So long as the kids are sorted out, a lovely meal is on the menu, the house looks good and I can be surrounded by those I love (even when I’m missing those who aren’t near) then I’m good to go.

Bring on the holiday cheer.

Wednesday Roundup

2011-12-07T13:34:00.001Z

We had a busy weekend, a much more hectic schedule than I’m used to, but it was good.

We finally got to catch up with Paul, Sophia and Madelana on Saturday. I can’t possibly explain how much this little girl’s sweet nature shines through. We had a lovely time in Presso, even the pizza maker couldn’t resist this little one, giving her a bit of dough to roll. I think Paul and Connor were secretly wishing for a piece of their own:

(and it’s not even a restaurant that caters to children :)

We also had a bit of fun in TK Maxx trying on hats:

We went and got our tree early on Sunday morning before I started my Christmas shopping. It’s definitely not as spectacular as last year’s, but there was no way I was getting a seven footer again. The tree is now in a bucket of water on the deck, waiting to be dressed on Friday night, when I have a few people over.

I’m a little anxious though, as the element in the oven has burned out and I’m waiting to see if it can be mended before Friday night. I might have to reorganize a few things if it can’t be fixed in time. I wasn’t planning on a multitude of hot snacks, but a few would be nice. I’m sure I can work something out with Dawn in regard to using her oven if not.

I’ve been feeling in a bit of a slump the last few days but hope to get over this by hitting the gym tonight. Andy is home for the rest of the week so I want to use the time to get sweating. I’ve not worked out nearly enough over the last few weeks – not good, considering all the snacking I’ve been doing.

Oh, I can't forget to share this with you: I found out this morning that I’m going to be hitting up a Florence and the Machine concert in London in March! Who-hoo! I don’t go to very many concerts so I'm excited about this one for sure. Florence is a major player on my workout soundtrack.

Tonight I might download a few Christmas Albums. Besides Pink Martini and the new Michael Bublee, I’d love a few suggestions of some of your favourite Christmas compilations.

Well there you have it... a much briefer than usual roundup of what's been going on. Just in case you've been wondering :)

Christmas Cookies

2011-12-01T16:02:00.002Z

My mother always does a load of baking for Christmas each year. She did this when we were younger and still continues to do so; and it’s not only her children that look forward to her baking. Mom has always made extra and each year I know she makes a special batch of brownies especially for my cousin Wayne as he loves her brownies. It’s a shame she doesn’t have a flock of grand kids living near her at times like these.

For the last few years I have done some baking myself. I have asked mom for a number of her recipes i.e. chocolate snowballs, cherry balls, peanut butter balls and peanut butter squares. Some recipes I gather from elsewhere, especially this site here. Barry’s holiday recipes are fantastic, not to mention everything else he does. His short breads really do melt in your mouth and always go down a treat at our house.

There are some recipes that don’t seem to work out so well, no matter how closely I follow them. It could be due to a number of factors: my oven settings, UK measuring cups, the ingredients here varying slightly and the fact that I just don’t have mom’s touch in the baking department. But I’m getting there, slowly but surely.

The chocolate snowballs seemed to have worked much better this year and I’ve gotten much better at the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (a definite favourite of Connor’s). Luckily the cherry balls (a top choice of both Alex and Andy’s) have always come out well. I tried the peanut butter squares this year as Alex had asked for them last year, and they are a flop. I will chalk it up to the fact that the local peanut butter just doesn’t hold up to Kraft (which I ran out of last year). So end of story on that count.

So you can probably gather that even though Mom doesn’t live near our boys, they still know what a great baker their ‘Nana Gina’ is. It’s a legacy I hope to carry on... especially now that I'm going to be a granny myself. (Ack! - I'm still getting used to that one.

This year, I ordered some Christmas cookie cutters from Amazon and looked forward to trying out mom’s Christmas Cookies (I always loved how she used to decorate them in such festive icing). I’m always slightly confused when a recipe calls for shortening as the alternative here is lard and that is just nasty. So I usually just substitute for butter, this time I didn’t.

It started out fairly well:

But then the dough was super sticky and I couldn’t get it to roll. All three kids happened to turn up as I was trying to work out what to do (besides adding more flour) and we decided to start from the beginning and use butter, not lard (that word is just plain disgusting). I’m pleased they were happy to join in as I didn’t feel like measuring and sifting five cups of flour etc. etc. So I poured Tasha and myself a glass of wine and we got to work.

(Tasha really pitched in - a fantastic assistant)

We hit the same roadblock as the first time and I made a quick call to mom to ask her if she experienced the same issue. She confirmed that she did, so as Tasha and I both thought, we had to add a lot of extra flour. Connor made a comment that made me chuckle ‘Most people check a recipe when they are baking. Not Jods, she rings Gina’. He’s not all wrong on that count. She is the baking expert and my crowd knows it.

Eventually we reached a texture that enabled the cutting out of cookie shapes:

I had a load of fun in the kitchen with the kids this past Sunday as we baked and I really love how they seem to enjoy baking/cooking with me. Connor has already made a list of what he wants to start on this Friday when he comes down. I think we are going to ease quite nicely into the Christmas Season this year.

We didn’t have a chance to decorate our cookies and as they needed to go in the freezer (well those that were left after Connor and Andy finished eating their share) I had to get them iced on Monday night.

This is the end result:

Sorry, but I do impress myself sometimes.

The City of Love

2011-11-25T16:18:00.003Z

sParis lived up to my every expectation, and more. The trip we took in 2006 was fun for so many varying reasons; it was a place that I unwittingly fell in love with and I've always wanted to return. After this trip alone with my husband, I can honestly say it's one of my favourite cities ever.

The Parisians are so kind, so accommodating... so helpful. Without even being asked. I can't give that to various other European cities.

Despite a few hiccups such as:

Andy giving his head a very hard knock prior to even leaving the local train station;

Almost missing our connecting train out of Newark;

Not having time to stop at the champagne bar in St Pancras;

Ilhame not being in when we arrived at the bed and breakfast after travelling all day;

An elephant being in the in the room above us on the first night;

My camera lens falling apart;

A very sore blister on my little toe;

and

Andy nearly being pickpocketed on the underground, however that was more amusing than anything as he was well aware of the situation; we had another laugh when we saw the police questioning the female pickpockets ten minutes later.

We had an absolutely amazing time in Paris.

The best bits?

Well the big glass of wine we were given when Ilhame finally got home to greet us; It was hard to stay annoyed at such a vivacious, sweet natured lady - especially when she is filling your glass with cold, crisp wine.

The room: truly authentic Parisian with a Moroccan twist.

The breakfast: home-made jams, croissants, pain-au-chocolate, breads and coffee.

Walking along the Seine on a lazy Sunday morning.

Taking in the sites from a river cruise

The Sunday Market up by Sacre Coeur

Watching the street dancers up on the Tracadero

Lunch in a cafe with a view of the Eiffel Tower

The mussels :)

The Wine

The authentic Italian Bistro we found that served a gorgeous scallop linguine

The amazing shops of Galeries Layfayette

Laughing with my husband as he drank his first glass of chardonnay with me (with me).

(alhtough I think he's drinking Leffe here... a few moments later he was drinking wine)

The coffee

The Wine (again)

The rumpy pumpy.... Sorry TMI maybe, but it was a romantic trip to Paris - would you expect any different?

The Christmas Market down the Champs Elysees

All the laughs with my husband

Seeing the Eiffel Tower lit up for Christmas

Spending four glorious days alone with my husband.

If money was no object

2011-11-18T14:02:00.000Z

Sometimes I can't help but have a look at what's on offer in terms of Nova Scotia real estate. Especially in comparison to what is on offer locally. There is no comparison. None at all. The type of home that appeals to me here is so far out of reach that it's not even worth day dreaming about. The house we live in is within our limits if we decided we wanted to buy here. However I can't help but think of what we could get in Nova Scotia for a similar price. A few weeks ago I came across this:

I've always dreamed of a big front porch

I could so see me and Andy in our bedroom nook enjoing a cup of coffee on a wintry Sunday morning

Sea views from mostly every room in the house...

Although it's not near Queensland or Chester, it ticks all the boxes for me in terms of my 'dream home'. You can check out the full listing for yourself here if you want. Dream is probably all I will ever be able to do in terms of owning a home like this as it is definitely out of our price range... but you never know. If we work hard and long enough in England, some day something like this might just be possible in Canada. But most likely not.

However, back to my regularly scheduled life; as Paris is on the agenda I have no complaints. My nails and fake bake are all sorted and I've been going over my wardrobe mentally for at least a week now. I'm not packing light which I normally try and do for short breaks, as I want to be prepared for anything: afternoon strolls by the Seine, dinner and drinks with my husband and of course the concert at the Royal Albert Hall that we are going to when we arrive back in London on Tuesday. I'm not a fanatic for designer labels and only own a select few items, and other than my boots and coats, I don't have a lot of expensive clothes. I'm kind of middle of the road. However since I'm going to Paris, which I believe is one of the most stylish cities in the world, I kind of wish I at least had a designer hand bag like one of these:

Jimmy Choo

Mulberry

I won't tell you how much these bags retail for if you don't already know.

I happened to express my wish out loud to one of my friends at work yesterday and when she turned up at my house last night to have her nails done, she came touting both a Jimmy Choo handbag (tan) and a Mulberry tote bag (in a burnt orangy brown). Both very similar to those pictured above. Ummm yeah, that's a friend for you. I chose the Mulberry for this particular trip. I will at least be rockin an amazing bag and a big grin if nothing else.

What more could a girl want? (I'll save that post for another day)

Three More Sleeps

2011-11-16T11:09:00.000Z

I took two days off work last week to spend some time in Nottingham with my sister-in-law and niece, Daisy. I didn’t let the fact that I was coming down with a cold impinge on my time spent with them, and so far there are no signs that I left my cold with them.

My local gym has been taken over by Virgin and because of this I was able to attend Alison’s gym on Saturday morning (I managed to run over 3 k’s even though I thought my head was going to explode). Spending time at Ali’s gym only reaffirmed that the gym I’m attending could be so much better. Alison gets loads more for her monthly fee than I do. The gym is three times the size and the class schedule looks so much better. I’ve been debating giving up my membership but I know I won’t do it. The last time I quit the gym I gained weight that I still haven’t been able to shake. So no, as disgruntled as I am I will not be giving up the gym. I can continue to hope that it will improve and they will eventually hire instructors that are qualified to teach spin, rather than pulling the trainers off the floor. I’m sorry, our trainers might be good at what they do in the gym, however I don’t think they belong in front of a spin class; especially if they don’t bring any added flair or personality. Spin is challenging enough without being boring to boot. I won't even start on our TRX... Oh, and before you suggest it, I won’t change gyms as the one I go to is just so convenient in terms of location and parking. I can jog up there and do some weights. That is, whenever I decide to get my arse into a weight regime again.

So… Andy and I have been down with a bug over the last few days. I really have to give him credit though for coming to fetch me in Nottingham on Saturday morning when he was feeling dreadful. What a guy. However it was better that we were sick last weekend than this coming weekend; we have three more sleeps till we catch the Eurostar to Paris and I.can’t.wait.

To have nearly three days in one of the most romantic cities in the world with my husband will be so good. We need this break, it’s been a tough year and we haven’t had any time away on our own in too damn long.

We are even looking forward to the train journey:

(Hard to believe the last trip on Eurostar was in 2006)

I’m really looking forward to spending an afternoon doing this:

and maybe visiting a few wine bars :)

Oh, and I'm so looking forward to the gorgeous bed and breakfast we are booked into, which you can have a look at for yourself here; Fingers crossed it stands up to it’s reputation. I’m pleased I could get us a place in the Montmartre Quarter; we will have lots of time to explore the artsy markets and cafes.

I’m also looking forward to returning here again:

Sorry, but I still can’t comprehend why there isn’t one in the UK… even Halifax, Nova Scotia even has a shop now, yet the UK doesn’t. It makes no sense I tell you.

I will be spending the next few evenings figuring out what to pack, having my nails sorted and doing everything else a girl needs to do when preparing for a Parisian getaway with her man.

Shorter Days = Less Motivation

2011-11-09T12:03:00.000Z

I try really hard not to be late for things, especially work. I’m lucky to have the kind of job where I have some flexibility and no one questions me if I’m ten minutes late. It’s just accepted that I will make it up at the end of the day or take it off my flexi-time. No big deal. Besides I’m usually in at 8:00 am, well before anyone else anyway.
All my life I had the misfortune of being habitually late. I wonder if this is something that I learned, although I don’t know from whom, my mom and dad are never late for appointments and tried to teach us all the importance of being on time. My mother said I was a late delivery, stubborn in my quest to stay snuggled inside of her. (I don’t think I can be blamed though; it was January and seriously, what time of year is that to be born?) It was only after she slipped on the ice on one of her long walks to try and coax me out that I was actually jarred into moving. During my latter school days Mom had the patience of a saint in her quest to get me out of bed. When it came to getting a lift from my dad, if I wasn’t ready when he was I could often be found running out the door as he was pulling out of the drive. If I was lucky, he would stop; I wasn’t always lucky. (I thought I’d always be mad at him for those times yet having teenagers in the house has given me a slightly different perspective and I’ve become much ‘harder’ than I ever thought I could be – it’s necessary at times, trust me.)

I married a man who is never late for anything. He is also a man who has approximately the same level of patience as my dad when it comes to being ready to leave on time (just ask my sister) and from an early stage in our relationship I managed to adapt; (Andy has also lightened up a bit over the last few years and isn’t as impatient – I guess we are good for each other after all :) I pride myself on the fact that these days I am usually always on time for appointments. I’m even prouder of the fact that when my husband and I agree on a time of departure I am ready to roll when he is. I’m not usually ready before, but I can guarantee you if we planned to leave the house at 7:00 pm I will be walking out the door at 7:00 pm. I surprise myself on days when I’m ready ten minutes early. When it comes to appointments though, I will often walk in no more than five minutes beforehand. I won’t ever change in this aspect because I abhor waiting rooms.

These days I find myself waking up about an hour before my alarm goes off. I usually have an argument with myself on whether or not I should get up to exercise (I would love to be that person), take Molly for a walk or even possibly catch up on a bit of laundry etc. I always lose this argument and although I’m almost wide awake I stay there till I fall back asleep and am rudely awakened just after 7 am feeling annoyed at myself for not getting up earlier. I really wish I could get up in time to do more than wash my face, fix my hair and put on a minimal amount of makeup prior to going. And no, I don’t shower most mornings as I have my bath or shower before bed each night. It’s rare when I have an extra few minutes to actually style my hair and make lunch (if it hasn’t been done the night before). Even when I do wake up with time to spare I usually waste it trying to figure out what to wear.

Today I had set my alarm for 6:40 and when it went off I didn’t even hit snooze. I was up early enough to take Molly for a romp on the field with her ball; the reason behind my earlier rise was that Molly’s granddad couldn’t walk her at midday so she needed a walk before work. It’s amazing how much better I feel throughout the day when I actually achieve what I plan. Since the time change nearly two weeks ago I’ve not been able to get to the gym as much or take Molly out after dark (its fireworks central around here at the moment) which has put the brakes on my jogging in the evening. So last night I hopped on my stationary bike for almost an hour and as always, a good sweat goes a long way in making me feel much brighter and better about, well everything.

Capturing the True Essance

2011-11-04T14:59:00.000Z

I understand that times are changing and the world of technology can be amazing and wonderful. I understand that today's children are being raised very differently to the way previous generations have been raised; many of these changes are great, some of them not so. I'm not going to start ranting about how I think too many kids are wrapped up in 'cotton wool' or being spoiled to the extreme or even how materialistic the world has become. I'm going to stop myself from making this about my thoughts on children and the varying extremes of raising them because I don't have any of my own and some of you might tell me I'm not qualified to raise such issues in the first place. Because as we know, all childless women are clueless when it comes to child rearing (yes, I am rolling my eyes and smiling).

However I've steered a little of track from what I originally meant to ~~yell at~~ talk to you about today. I'm a little sad that the world is obsessed with appearances to the point where it's not only magazines that are doing things like this:

(What the hell was wrong with her before? When Faith Hill needs to be thinned down it's a sad state of affairs)

No wonder so many young girls (and even some boys) are obsessed with their weight and develop eating disorders. Personally I think the before shot looks much better and I don't think I'd be on my own.

I suppose I can see the reason behind the editing of this picture:

yet at the same time I think the first picture is more 'relatable'. But 'relatable'doesn't seem to matter when you are of celebrity status. God forbid you have a few flaws.

Photoshop is an awesome tool. I realize that many of you take great joy in it and spend hours 'editing' photos. Making a bride's smile whiter and brighter or erasing a small blemish; I love it when I see pictures that have been 'softened up' or when the back ground is a bit out of focus (although my husband can manage this with just his camera). I imagine photoshop can go a long way in helping someone's self image. But at the same time, if you have to move people from one photo and place them in another because their eyes were shut in the first photo, I struggle to understand how that is a true image. I completely get it when people/items are 'photoshopped' into a picture for design purposes i.e. the banner of your blog, invitations, etc. What I can't do is give credit to a photographer that has photoshopped a picture to the point where it hardly represents the original shot any longer. How can they be acknowledged as a brilliant photographer?

Sure there are plenty of pictures that I would love to have 'slimmed down'; Why couldn't there have been an editing program available when my school photos were taken? I would have loved to have had the option at the time, yet as awful as most of them are, they remind me of the awkward teenager who couldn't keep her eyes open, smile naturally or have nice, clear skin. They remind me of the girl I was back then, and if nothing else, they provide me with a good laugh.

The Ghosts of Halloween Past

2011-11-01T15:45:00.000Z

Driving home from a dinner with colleagues last evening I was delighted to see tons of trick or treaters roaming the streets and they weren’t only on the main streets in town but were also out in droves in our village. When I pulled in the drive I was thrilled to see that Andy had put up even more decorations and ensured our jackolaterns were all lit. Because we live at the back of a cul-de-sac many kids might not bother to come all the way in without the enticement of spooky lighting. However Andy said we had about 25 so we were already up by 15 from last year. Unfortunately no more came around after I got in; I’m basically ok with this though as by 7:30 it’s usually just the big kids who don’t even bother to put much of a costume on. Another bonus for the goblins out last night was that the temperature was between 10-15 degrees so it wasn’t cold out. That’s one thing I always remember about trick or treating back in Nova Scotia; the temp never failed to drop to about 2 degrees on all hallows eve.

Plinky.com asked for a favourite memory of Halloween. I don’t have any one particular favourite, however I do have a few moments that stand out from Halloween’s past:

• Dressing in mom’s wedding gown when I was about 12 or 13. I couldn’t believe she let me wear her wedding dress; the only disappointing factor was that it wouldn’t zip up over the bulky sweater I had to wear. (It was probably more the fact that I am a completely different build to my mom and at 12 was about 30 lbs heavier than she was on her wedding day; She’s much shorter and has a slight frame). I reckon my little sister Tawny wore that dress without issue on another Halloween as she was skinny and hadn’t a rack most page 3 girls would pay big money for.)

The last year I went out. My friends and I each filled not one, but two pillow cases with loot. If you are going to retire from the game, you might as well make it a good one. (We were about 15.)

• My cousin and I dressed as 1980's prostitutes one year… I know, I know. Ridiculous. What’s even more ridiculous was that we actually caught the attention of a couple of fellows and ended up speaking to them for quite awhile before I cottoned on to the fact that they actually thought we were hookers. Great. I was not flattered. Needles to say, that was a lesson I didn’t need to learn twice. It's actually kind of sad that there were a number of young girls walking around our estate last night looking pretty much the same.

• My front window getting egged the first year I lived here. There wasn’t a knock at the door first so I know it wasn’t tricksters pulling a stunt because there were no treats to be had. It wasn’t a pleasant job to clean up and I’m glad we don’t live on a main thoroughfare anymore.

My sister posted a picture of Clara in both of her Halloween costumes yesterday. She had one for the day and a much warmer, bumblebee costume for trick or treating. I’m not quite sure where they went as Clara isn’t yet 2, however I love the Halloween spirit her parents are instilling in her. (Another blogger who adores Halloween and has two adorable girls, Jen mentioned her fear that a number of traditions seem to be dying out with today’s generation, with the exception of the materialism aspect and I sadly have to agree). Although Halloween doesn't seem to be what it was when I was young, I hope it doesn't end up only being about expensive costumes and trick or treating inside (i.e. malls). Especially as it only seems to be getting more popular in the UK now. Oh, and how bad is it that most of the costumes young (and not so young) women are wearing have to be some type of 'sexy' theme. Give me Marge Simpson or a gory zombie any year.

Here’s a picture of Clara the Fairy (her daytime costume):

I think she makes the most adorable fairy ever.

Finding a fiver in my pocket is always a good surprise too

2011-10-27T15:54:00.000+01:00

Do you like surprises? Why or why not? (from plinky.com)

I have had one surprise party thrown for me in my adult life and this was on a sunny afternoon in July when I spent six weeks in Canada during my first year living in Britain. I went home to sort out arrangements for my wedding as well as spend time with everyone. Unbeknownst to me, my co-workers, friends and family had planned a ‘money-tree’ shower for me. I blogged about it here, wherein I explained that I didn’t want a shower yet I couldn’t help but be delighted at the time and effort people went to for me.

In the whole scheme of things the idea of surprise parties are great and I certainly like helping to plan them; but only for people that I know will be legitimately thrilled. When it comes to surprise parties for myself I’m more like my mom in the fact that they are definitely not for me. I prefer to have a date to look forward to, something I can get excited over and even better, decide what to wear.

Andy lovingly took me away to Barcelona for a surprise birthday present a few years back. It was fun to hold discussions with my friends as we pondered where my husband could possibly be taking me and it definitely felt like an adventure in the early morning hours when we were on our way to the airport. I love that my husband went to such an effort to bring me joy, however as I said to him afterwards, its often a good idea to have a close female friend involved when planning surprise trips as they have a better idea of what a girl might need for the surprise destination. I didn’t exactly have the right clothes for January in Spain, although we had one hell of a good time just the same.

My husband has tried to surprise me numerous times over the years and sometimes I’m thrilled at the result, like the time he planned a Valentine’s Day scavenger hunt that resulted in my arriving at a Greek restaurant to find him waiting all suited up with a beautiful bracelet I had been coveting for months. (He was working away at the time so the effort was even more meaningful.) I’m a lucky girl, I know. Sometimes though his ideas backfire on him and I think he wonders why he even bothers; See the problem is I like to be involved in the hunt for most major purchases or DIY decisions. I have a bit of a control issue that way. (No way am I admitting to being a control freak, I’m not that bad yet.) I also don’t think I’m alone in this; most women do want to be involved in decisions that will affect the appearance of their home. Don’t they?

The little ‘surprise’ moments are always sweet too; for instance coming downstairs to a tidy kitchen when it didn’t look that way the night before, or getting breakfast in bed on a Sunday morning. These things happen more often than not so I’m not sure if they could be deemed surprises. (I told you I lucked out in the husband department; I’m not just with him because he’s hung like a horse you know.)

When it comes to Christmas I was never a child that snooped to see what mom and dad had hidden away. I’m still the same – happy to wait until Christmas morning to see what ‘surprises’ await me (I often do a wish list but it’s still a surprise to see what may or may not be there). Some surprises are good surprises but the best surprises for me are the ones when you get to see and spend time with someone you never expected to; like the time I traveled to Ontario to wedding dress shop with my sister Tawny and after we’d hugged each other I saw our little sister Stacy (who lives in another province) pop out from behind a corner. Now who wouldn’t like that kind of surprise?

Risotto me this...

2011-10-26T13:59:00.001+01:00

It’s that time of year when the leaves are all burnt oranges and gold (we don’t get a lot of trees in this region with red leaves) and pumpkins are being sold in the farm shops and grocery stores.

I think I’m going to stop this evening on the way home and buy a pumpkin. I wasn’t planning on carving it for Halloween as I have a pretty decent ceramic one in the window; what I’m planning is to chop it up and use it to try out a few new recipes (as well as toast the seeds - yummy). It seems that almost every food blog I visit these days boasts a gorgeous looking dish that features pumpkin and most call for canned pumpkin. Unfortunately canned pumpkin is not easily found here; the alternative is to use fresh pumpkin which is probably a better option anyway. Since pumpkins will only be found locally until the end of October, I'd better get a move on.

I’ve printed off a recipe for pumpkin risotto that I’m keen to try. I’ve had all the ingredients for a risotto for some time however I haven’t endeavoured to make it as I’m told risottos can be quite tricky. I thought I might as well give it a try with pumpkin as my sister-in-law raved about the one she’d had at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant. I’m not sure if it’s a flavour I will enjoy, and I know it won’t come close to Jamie’s, however if I don’t try I won’t know.

I’m going to freeze the left over pumpkin pieces I have so if any of you have any recipes you’d like to share I’m all ears.

Because pumpkin doesn’t seem to be an overly popular flavour and therefore not readily available in the UK, I have also been a bit envious of the variety in latte’s that are available in Canada at the moment. Pumpkin lattes don’t seem to be on the menu at the coffee houses here, yet I wish they were so I could give them a try. I don’t need the extra calories, and I’m not even sure I’d like it, yet the option to sample it would be nice. Saying that, I did try the crème brulee latte at Starbucks on the weekend and found it a bit too sweet, even skinny style. I think I’m better off sticking with my skinny vanilla latte’s from Café Nero. (It’s the next best thing to the Second Cup, trust me).

On another note, I was dismayed to find that the local Starbucks is no longer offering the falafel wrap. When I asked the reason behind this I was told that it’s not a popular choice in this ~~backwater~~ town but I could still get it in the major cities. Nice, except I don’t live in or near a major city.

Wish me luck with the risotto!

Paint It Red

2011-10-22T11:46:00.001+01:00

The making of a kick-ass spin class (for me anyway):

1. Awesome music

2. A motivational instructor

3. A bike that works properly

Bonus: a cute instructor

What doesn't work for me when it comes to spinning:

1. Sometimes you get a bike whose gears are not 'right'

I can usually work through this by staying in a lower gear, however I was running late this morning and was told most of the leftover bikes were 'tricky' ones; meaning those that are hard going even at level 4/5. It sucks, but you have to just try and forget it and work through it.

2. An instructor without much 'drive': Like today. He was cute, but that doesn't cut it.

3. When the gym is being painted and you are allergic to paint. I knew the spin room had been painted on Thursday but had hopes it would have dried by today. It hadn't.

I could have stuck it out if my only issues were 1&2, but I was increasingly finding it hard to breath in that room and had to bail. I hate having to bail... it looks like I can't cut it. However I quickly told the instructor why I was cutting out and hightailed it out of there.

By the time I made it home my breathing was back to normal but my head was beginning to throb. I wasn't phoning it in today... I needed some healthy exercise; because it's a gorgeous fall day I grabbed Molly and we went for a jog. I didn't hold any major expectations for myself but in the end I kicked ass. For me anyway.

I jogged 2.77 miles nonstop. It took me 30 minutes but I don't care. I will work on my time and distance, slowly, just as I have been doing for a few weeks now.

I think what kept me motivated was a combination of the sunshine, cool fall air and jogging through the field and orchards surrounding the village; oh and I can't forget the app on my iPhone, Runkeeper. I think that really assisted in my quest to keep moving. It's funny how a little animated voice coming from your pocket can keep you going!

I'm a hot, sweaty mess, but I'm proud of myself (and Molly) just the same. Note: I didn't say Hot Mess:

Now I just need to go take my inhaler again.

It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from

2011-10-21T12:47:00.000+01:00

What does home mean to you?

(from Plinky.com)

Growing up I always thought the house you grew up in was your home and I wouldn’t have been wrong, not from a child's viewoint anyway because what child wouldn’t think the same? However over time it became apparent to me that home would always be wherever my mother was. My mother has always constituted what home means. I’m sure I’m not the only adult child who feels this way. Maybe I felt so strongly (and still do) because I resided at home with my mother for the first 30 years of my life, although from my twenties onward I didn’t sleep at home very much at all. I basically lived with my friend Shannon during the year her husband was away, and after that year I more or less lived with my ex-boyfriend for two years. Although he wanted the move to be permanent, I could never quite bring myself to make the move official. The reason behind my logic was that I didn’t want to move out of my parents house until I knew I wouldn’t have to move back. Ok, I will admit it… I was comfortable there with mom. I’m a mama’s girl and always will be. Either way, the choices I made were right because obviously my ex and I didn’t work out. I guess what I’m trying to say is this: my home in Nova Scotia wouldn’t feel so much like home without my mother in it. (And thanks to the amazing treatment she has received, as well as her own fighting spirit, we can gratefully continue to go home to our mom, hopefully for many years to come.)

When I moved to England the flat we lived in never had a chance to feel like home before we moved into a mews house (two up, two down). Our little house was cosy, though cramped and although we lived there two years, I still never really felt like I was living in my own home, nor could I seem to refer to England as home. Home was back in Nova Scotia. (I believe it took me a little longer to adapt because of the closeness I have with my mom and siblings, as well as the fondness I will always hold for Nova Scotia.) It wasn’t until we moved into the house we currently live in that it started to feel like a home of my own, however even that has taken some time. It’s not the fact that we have made it ours by putting our own personal touches on it (although it helps), I think it’s the fact that mine and Andy’s relationship has grown and evolved so much in recent years that I wouldn’t want to live anyplace else if he wasn’t there with me. Other factors would be the closeness I have with his children and family; My relationship with my friend Dawn, my sister from another mister, and her family has grown much deeper in recent years; I love how her son can just pop around to our house when he feels like it, how the dogs know the way to each other’s door and ultimately, how we all look out for each other. They have become family.

So my answer for what home means to me would be wherever the people I love most are; a house is just a building. Sure it can be full of beautiful memories and lovely items but it’s not what makes it ‘home’, not quite. Home is wherever you can go to feel the warmth, love and acceptance of those that you care about most in the world.

I guess that means I’m doubly blessed because I have more than one place that I call home.

It took me as no surprise...

2011-10-19T16:33:00.000+01:00

Well it’s Wednesday and I’ve been sitting on this one since the 16th August so I’m just going to spit it out:

Alex is expecting a baby with his girlfriend in April. There. I’ve said it and I can’t take it back.

I never got to be a mom, other than to my fur girl. I only became a mother figure to the kids later in their lives, although Connor was still quite little, only seven, and although he asked if he could call me mum I didn’t think it a great idea for a multitude of reasons. So we settled on Jojo (a name given to me by my now 15 year old godson) and I liked it. (It was quite a shock when he was 13 and started calling me Jods, like his older brother. I likened it to how a mom must feel when she’s traded up from Mommy to Mom.) I’ve always been content to be their friend and confidant. With Alex and Connor it’s been that little bit extra at times, especially since Alex lived with us for six years.

Here’s the thing… I was kind of looking forward to one day being a Nanny or even Gramma to the boy’s children; and when Tasha recently said that of course I’d be a grandparent to all of their children it made me smile. It really did. Most stepparents I know are referred to as Nana or Grandad, especially if they’d been around for a long time before the grandkids were born. As I have, if eight years count for anything. I just thought I’d have at least another five or six years. You know, be a bit closer to 50. Not 39 for crying out loud. Bah… what can you do?

It is what it is.

I’m not going to talk about the stress, fallouts (not mine), emotional turmoil, or ‘I told you so’s’ that have been going down around these parts. Bottom line: there is a baby coming whether anyone is ready for it or not.

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how we feel as the parents of a teenaged father-to-be as you can probably figure that out on your own. (I’m also only sharing this with you now that the whole family is in the know, and the kids have made it public.)

I’ve told Alex that I’m kind of looking forward to the day when I can talk to him as the parent of an 18 year old child and get his take on things; however, since he will be 37 and I will be in my 50’s I’m content to wait it out. Father time is having a laugh and going too fast as it is. I don’t need to speed things up, as I said, I can wait.

Whirlwind Weekend

2011-10-17T13:24:00.001+01:00

This weekend passed in a blur due to a variety of factors:

Meal planning and cooking for an extra three adults – two of whom don’t eat meat. This is usually not an issue as I enjoy the opportunity to cook fish as Andy isn’t a big fan. However I can only expect him to eat fish one out of the two evenings so Saturday found me making a fish curry as well as a chicken korma. (Unfortunately Andy’s was from a jar as I didn’t have the ambition to cook more than one meal from scratch). He seemed to enjoy it all the same so I think I’m forgiven. Usually I get round this by cooking a vegetarian chilli or lasagne, which Andy doesn’t mind but I chose instead to make a curry so two separate meals it was. I wouldn’t want to do it every day as making sure the utensils from the meat dish stays far away from the fish dish, etc. is a feat in itself and the amount of washing up is doubled. Thank goodness for a dishwasher.

I opted to get up with Daisy on Saturday morning so her parents could lay-in; this kid gets up between 5:30 and 6:00 am, a fact that leaves one fairly tired by lunch time. However I think I did alright and enjoyed my 1-1 time with the little munchkin. The only problem was that because I was on baby watch and had the monitor in our room, Andy didn’t get much sleep either because Daisy Doo is a noisy baby. No one got much sleep either on Saturday night as Daisy wasn’t happy and because she is a loud baby, in both laughter and tears, the whole house was well aware that she wasn’t sleeping well. Sunday morning found one groggy bunch of adults in the house, especially her mama who was up with her nearly every hour.

I had a touch of sore throat, and added to the tiredness and very achy body I had due to my monthly visitor (some months really hit me harder than others and my legs ache something fierce – do any of you experience this?), I spent most of yesterday sleeping. Not my favourite way to spend a Sunday but sometimes it just needs to be done. Especially when the house seems extra quiet after the departure of visitors.

It was a great weekend all the same and the baby is really a joy to have around. She has one of the best smiles ever. However when I’m with Daisy I sometimes can’t help but think of my other niece who is so far away and the sad fact that I won’t be seeing her anytime soon. It was this time last year that Andy and I spent a few weeks with Clara when she was the same age as Daisy is now and although the difference in both girls at the same age is obvious, i.e. size/personality, at the same time there are such clear similarities… both have sweet dispositions and are ready with an adorable grin the very moment you look at them.

I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to the gym or for a run as planned but I’m not being too hard on myself because this is a new week and I can start fresh.

For lunch I’m going to enjoy a bowl of the delicious ‘holiday soup for the soul’ I made (the recipe can be found here) and read one of my favourite blogs, the Curvy Girl Guide. It’s not just for curvy women, trust me. The articles and recipes are designed for everyone.

Hope you all had a great weekend and that your Monday isn’t too dreadful.

That Friday Feeling

2011-10-14T13:52:00.000+01:00

How can I not be happy when this is what greets me on a sunny, Friday morning :)

(This is of course after she crawled off my bed and onto her own)

A few other things that are making me smile today:

Andy will be home at tea time (5ish)

Daisy is coming to stay the weekend with her mum and dad; they will arrive at approximately the same time as Andy.

The weather is supposed to be beautiful this weekend.

The large skinny vanilla latte from Starbucks and gorgeous home-made chocolate muffin with a melting centre (made by my colleague) that I'm enjoying.

The thought of a post-work run in the sunshine with my fur-girl pictured above.

It's only taken me eight years to get round to it...

2011-10-13T11:58:00.001+01:00

Each year when Autumn arrives, I keep telling myself that I’m going to deck the house out in Autumnal theme, have a Thanksgiving Dinner, and of course plan a rocking Halloween Party. And it never happens.

This year, I made sure it did. Well most of it.

Last weekend I bought a few supplies and with a little extra help from a box of supplies left in my shed by my pal who relocated back to Canada, we decorated. (Thanks CA ;). I cooked a turkey and all the fixin’s for Andy’s parents, his brother and his family and two of our kids. (I wish I’d taken a photo of the table setting because it looked pretty awesome. Andy and I make a great team, we really do.) The parsnip and ginger soup topped with bacon bits was a great starter and Andy’s mum brought the dessert. It was so cute listening to my 2 year old nephew refer to Andy’s dad as Grandad Dog (my in-laws have a heap of small dogs in their house at any given time).

I’m a little dismayed that we aren’t going to be having a Halloween Party this year (not enough takers to make it worthwhile – people just aren’t into the ghoulish spirit over here, well except for me, Tasha and Cameron), so I added a couple of Halloween decorations and will hope for more next year:

The living room is a mix between fall and Halloween and that’s ok… even if I’m not having a party, I can still get into the swing of things though right?

What I’m thankful for this year:

We are all healthy, even if we aren’t together…

My mom finishes her very last treatment today. From here on out its checkups with her oncologist to make sure all is well – YAY!!!

That I’m doing better again at living a healthier lifestyle.

We aren’t the only ones that struggle to understand why our children make the choices they do, and that dysfunction really is the norm.

That even though Monday marked the 15th Anniversary of the day we lost our beloved Nan, her memory is still alive and well within the hearts of those she left behind.

Andy and I celebrated seven years of a strong and healthy marriage on Sunday, despite all the obstacles that have been thrown in our path.

Look how young and ~~stunned~~ intoxicated with love we look…

I hope those of you who celebrated Thanksgiving had your fill of turkey amongst family and friends.

Maybe the answer is a suntan (spray on of course)

2011-10-07T12:12:00.002+01:00

This photo has been making the rounds all over facebook.

(French Model - Tara Lynn)

My initial reaction: What a beautiful woman.

My second reaction: hmmm pretty much what my bod would look like in that position, other than the fact I have pasty white skin and my legs are smaller.

My third reaction: Why can I look at her and think she is beautiful but if it were me in the photo I'd be tearing it apart.

A lot of heavy ladies will look at this photo and wish that they could look like this naked...

I don't know how many times I will receive a compliment from someone telling me how good I look in a certain top, or skirt and my initial response is to say I think it makes me look fat. I don't know why I do this. I'm not fat; I'm slightly overweight and I'm in pretty great shape... so I wonder just what my problem is. (ok, don't answer that, it could take forever.)

I continuously find myself comparing my body size to other women and it's exhausting. I don't think I'm alone in this and I have to ask the question:

Why aren't we ever really content with the way we look (unless of course, we are slightly drunk on wine)?

One day I tell myself that I'm happy, healthy and at peace with myself and how I look and there is so much more to life than fitting into a size 8, yet the next day I'm beating myself up again. Let me tell you, it's rough being in an abusive relationship with myself.

There are so many females out there who are slender, yet have no muscle tone or real strength. They are what my sister refers to as skinny-fat. I think it is much more important to follow a healthy diet and exercise than it is to be a certain size or shape, be that slender or curvy. I know I will never let myself go to the point where I become hugely overweight or obese because no matter how many excuses people make, it is just not healthy. The pressure that you exert on your knees, back and heart speak for themselves. After she lost a 100 lbs I can remember my friend saying that she never realized how bad she felt when she was heavy. She thought she'd felt pretty ok until she dropped the weight and realized how much better she could feel.

And I'm sorry, no curvy woman could ever admit to me that it isn't an amazing feeling when you fit into a size that is smaller than you normally wear. Or when you try a dress on that clings in all the right places and looks great, without the use of spanks. It's an awesome feeling. Or even better, when you can lift that 50lb sack of dog food by yourself.

I also know it works the opposite way for underweight women too - many women who are skinny stress about body image, boob size, etc. It's not just the heavy girls who do this. I just happen to be on the other side of the spectrum, so that's the angle I'm coming from.

The photo above was accompanied by some blurb about whales and mermaids and then goes on to talk about how wonderful wales are and lists a bunch of reasons why one should wish be a whale rather than a mermaid. Sorry, I just think this is a shield to hide behind. The slogan was meant for a fitness campaign, not personal attributes that relate to your nature.

That slogan is not the best slogan in the world, not by a long shot. It's pretty terrible actually. And Tara Lynn is no whale. Yet I'd be lying if I said I'd rather have her body then Jennifer Aniston's. So yeah... I'd rather look like a mermaid over a whale even though mermaids are mythical and wales are awesome.

Lily Feet

2011-10-05T13:30:00.000+01:00

I've just started reading a book titled 'Snow Flower and the Secret Fan' by Lisa See. It's the gripping story of a young Chinese girl and how her feet, if bound properly, could change the life of her family.

My impatience at what exactly this procedure involves sought me to search it out online, especially after reading that the arch of the foot is broken to achieve the appropriate size foot. What I discovered disturbed me.

"Binding the feet involved breaking the arch of the foot, which ultimately left a crevice approximately 5 cm (2 in) deep, which was considered most desirable. It took approximately two years for this process to achieve the desired effect; preferably a foot that measured 7–9 cm (3–3¹⁄₂ in) from toe to heel". Not only were the arches of feet broken, but so were the toes, over and over again, before being folded underneath the foot and tightly bound.

You can read it yourself, here.

To say I am horrified and appalled at this is an understatement. I thought female circumcision, which is still practiced in some parts of the world was bad enough. I've always known that the Chinese used to bind women's feet, as it was considered attractive and graceful, however I had no idea the extreme measures that were taken to make the feet so small. How absolutely awful. At least this ridiculous, abusive tradition has ceased.

Below is a picture of 'lily feet'. I'm sorry, I try to be open-minded when it comes to the traditions of other races and cultures, realizing that what constitutes beauty to one, may constitute ugliness and shame to others, however this is just shocking and takes the expression 'going one step too far' (no pun intended) to a whole new level. Again, I'm sorry but I just don't understand how this could be considered beautiful:

It's unnatural and wrong, on so many levels, even wrapped up in pretty, silken slippers.

Of Ghouls and Pimps

2011-10-03T14:16:00.000+01:00

This weekend we took advantage of the beautiful weather and decided to do do a re-run of the sirloin beef wrapped in a dishtowel in the fire pit with Robert and Dawn.

It was just as gorgeous as the first time and if you have access to a fire pit I highly recommend it. Beef has never tasted so flavourful… ever. If you want to try it out, check out this post: (If any of you tried it over the summer I’m curious to see how you found the experience.) To celebrate the end of summer (especially with such an unexpected treat with the weather) we opened a bottle of Tattinger and toasted great friendships and sunshine. Naturally, we wrapped up the evening with a dip in the hot tub.

Although the weather is deferring any thought of winter boots and fall accessories, I have been thinking a lot about this upcoming Halloween. A few years ago when I was in Nova Scotia, I’d bought some decorations from Pumpkin Village as I’d intended to have a party that never came to fruition. I brought the subject of a party up on Saturday night, wondering if Robert and Dawn would be keen. I of course would want people to dress in costume, after all, what’s the point of a Halloween Party if no one dresses up? That’s where all the fun is… well besides the cocktails. All three were delighted when I said that the people in Canada dress in a variety of costume, not just horror/zombie themed, which makes the choice of costume much easier. At this, Cameron, who is 14, decided that this party was a must as it will be his opportunity to dress as a pimp; Huggy Bear to be exact. You’d have to know this kid for yourself to realise how out of character this is. Yet isn’t that what Halloween is all about; an opportunity to be someone else for an evening. So although we haven’t decided 100% if we will proceed, it’s looking very likely. Think of all the ghouls dancing around the fire pit eh?

I’m already seeking out punch recipes and thinking of costumes that Andy and I could wear.

A few years back we attended a Halloween Party and as I was getting ready, Alex asked if I intended on winning best costume. It hadn’t really entered my mind, but win I did.

Here is a picture of me and my pal Sharon dressed for the occasion:

If any of you have any great Halloween punch recipes I’d love it if you could share them (alcoholic of course – other than two teens, this will be an adult themed party).

And you can bet we will be calling in at the Champagne Bar in St. Pancras...

2011-09-29T15:50:00.000+01:00

How could I forget to mention in my previous post that Andy has booked us tickets on the Eurostar to Paris in November.

I've wanted to return to this city alone with my husband since we visited it in spring six years ago (I can't believe it's been that long) with my extended family...

I always thought Paris in the spring would be best but something tells me that pre-Christmas Paris will be just as beautiful... imagine all the Christmas lighting and shop windows, coffee in the riverside cafe's and wine-fueled dinners in cozy bistros. Hmmmmm oui, si'l vous plait...

When I think of this my feelings sway towards elation. Not that I want to think about Christmas just yet, especially in 29 degree heat, however I do like the thought of Paris at anytime...

The sunny side of life

2011-09-29T15:35:00.001+01:00

I’m smiling today for a variety of reasons:

• The sun is shining and it’s 29 degrees out. Yes, it’s a work day and the start beginning of Autumn... we've been waiting for this type of weather all summer. It's a few months late, buy better late than never and maybe we are appreciating it a little bit more because it's so unexpected.

• My friend and work colleague just used her daughter’s trade card to get me a bunch of bargain’s at the salon wholesaler's, including Rusk Hairspray for £1.50 marked down. I can’t wait to wash my hair tonight with my Rusk Shampoo. I seem to be off Bed Head these days.

• Andy is home on a four day weekend. We are trying to decide if we want to go to Norfolk on Saturday for the night or just take advantage of the great weather and chill at home. Either way works for me.

Content is how I'm feeling... I like it.

Waterfalls and Rain

2011-09-22T13:22:00.001+01:00

Getting away for a few days last week was exactly what was needed; my brother was just as taken with the natural beauty that is found in nearly every direction of the Lake District as we are. It never gets old.

I thought I'd never been to Ullswater before, however last year when my cousin was here Andy took us for a drive through the North Lakes and we stopped briefly for a walk through the woods, to a beautiful waterfall. Because it had been raining and I hadn't been driving, I didn't realize that this was the same walk I had picked out for John and I to do. Isn't it odd how sunshine makes something look completely different?

Last year, due to the rain our walk was only about 1/2 hour, just to the falls and back. Last Thursday John and I went up to the Aira Force Falls (Andy had to work) but then continued onwards for a further 3 1/4 hours.

It was a fantastic hike, the sun was shining and Molly was in her element.

Aira Force Falls

Above the falls...

John and our Molly

The changes in scenery were amazing:

I love this one of my girl:

Only a small section of Ullswater Lake:

On Friday we visited the town of Keswick and browsed around the quaint shops while we waited to see if the rain would cease. After a pub lunch we decided to go for it and head out for a hike, thinking the worst of the rain was over. It wasn't. It only got worse. However it wasn't cold and it was the kind of heavy rain that actually feels quite peaceful, so we hiked around the lake enjoying the solitude a rainfall like this brings. Although we cut it short, it was still a good walk.

We didn't get many pictures from this hike as I didn't want to ruin my camera...

My handsome hiking companions:

I like this one... we actually look like seasoned hikers here. (Amazing what the right clothes can achieve eh?)

The stones in the lake have engravings on them... beautiful.

We packed up on Saturday morning and came home as the weather didn't get any better.

I'm already looking forward to the next trip to the Lakes. Something tells me it won't be long.

No strikes but we've had a ball just the same

2011-09-21T12:58:00.001+01:00

Just thought I'd give you a quick update:

There will be no strike action for the flight attendants of Air Canada. This means my brother will be leaving on Saturday morning as regularly scheduled. Mom rang last night to let us know and I was touched by John's response when he said 'I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved'.

My emotions are mixed because I had mentally prepared for his departure prior to finding out that he might not be going Saturday and therefore started to feel a little bit of excitement that I might actually have him with me for longer. Greedy I know... but sometimes it's ok to feel like that right?

The next few days are going to pass by much too quickly, for certain.

Tonight John and I are going to Robert and Dawn's for homemade Thai Red Curry with shrimp, followed by the most scrumptious chocolate mousse I have ever eaten. Seriously, Robert could market this stuff and make a ton of money. John might not want to leave after Robert tempts him with this bit of heaven in a ramekin. I think it's more than possible we might partake in a little wine/beer drinking as well. One never knows... ok, who am I kidding? I reckon I will have a slight hangover for work tomorrow.

Tomorrow evening we are having dinner with Beryl, one last trip to the carvery so John can indulge in the British tradition of Beef and Yorkshire Pudding. (Although he has become rather fond of the the new staple British meal - Indian curry. I can't believe my brother is now a major fan of Fish Shashlik).

I've taken Friday off so John and I can have the day together. We will be heading uptown in order to enjoy one last Nero's Latte before a bit of last minute shopping (I'm sending all my Christmas presents home with him, how organized am I?) before heading home to walk Molly and get ready for one last night at the Harvest Moon with friends and family.

As mentioned, I think the next few days are going to pass in a blur before we send him back to Nova Scotia.

Most of what I'm talking about today could go in any direction...

2011-09-20T12:37:00.001+01:00

I have said this before and I'm saying it again: it’s probably not a good idea for me to post when I’m on, or for that matter, post that I am even on in the first place; or better yet I should refrain from posting anything at all. If you don’t understand my meaning when I say ‘on’ then you are probably not a female and aren't you the lucky one.

Today I feel like I could quite happily rip someone’s head off while alternately laughing and crying into the cavern left by that space. Ugly I know. But ugly is how I am feeling today. Well… at least right now. This could change in an hour or so, or even a minute.

Anyway I thought I'd give you a rundown on what’s been making my head spin in various directions over the last few days:

I was elated yesterday to hear that this man won the award for outstanding supporting actor, in a drama:

Peter Dinklage, Game of Thrones

Not only is this program my absolute favourite at the moment, his portrayal of Tyrion Lannister is fantastic. Check it out if you don’t believe me. I’ve loved this actor from the moment I first saw him in The Station Agent, back in 2003.

John and I wrapped up the prequel, Spartacus - God’s of the Arena last night. 6/6 shows in one evening. Terrible I know, but we wanted to watch it together as we had watched Blood and Sand prior to his European tour. I was saddened to hear Andy Whitfield, who played Spartacus, died a few weeks ago after a long battle with cancer. He was absolutely beautiful. When I first started Blood and Sand I wasn’t sure if it would be my thing, yet I was drawn in. Despite the obscene, over the top violence, there is so much that appeals to me about the show, besides all the sex and nudity (full frontal… and not just the women.) And I’m not even sorry or ashamed to admit that I like it. I’m not sure how I will feel when the third season is launched with a new actor.

In other news, Air Canada flight attendants are likely going on strike this week. I’m not sure how I feel about this as I have been so fortunate to have my brother here with me for as long as I have. It will be hard to say goodbye on Saturday morning, if all goes to plan. And I can't help but hope for one more week. He has been such a comfort to have around, especially in light of recent events (also as Andy is away from Monday-Friday.) It also doesn’t hurt that John takes Molly for a long walk every day, and helps with the housework. Who wouldn’t appreciate not having to rush out with the dog or pull clothes in off the line after a day at work. However if the strike does go ahead, it’s not certain when he could fly out and I know how that feels as I was in Nova Scotia during the volcano eruptions last year. As chilled as he is, and as much as I’d be happy to keep him, not knowing when you are leaving can be frustrating even when you are in the comfort of your relation’s home. Besides I know my mom and his friends want him back :)

Although my husband has never said a word and has seemed to enjoy having my brother around, I think he is looking forward to having me to himself again. I understand that feeling too, because for seven years I didn’t often get a weekend with him alone; it’s just not possible when he has three children, one of whom lived with us.

Andy and I are looking to clear out at Christmas. I know he wants a rest, and he deserves a rest. We don’t want to be here this Christmas as something tells us it will be less than idyllic. I can't lie and say I wouldn't be thrilled to spend Christmas with my family. I haven’t done so since 2005 and Andy has never celebrated a Christmas in Nova Scotia, however the cost is high and I don’t think it’s the rest my husband is thinking of. So… this leaves us trying to figure out what to do. The Canary Islands seems to be the only option for somewhere warm within our price range and I’m frankly not keen; the islands appear to be something similar to a tropical Blackpool… not mine, or Andy’s idea of a relaxing holiday.

We don’t ski, so a chalet in France or Austria really doesn’t make a lot of sense, however tempting.

A posh hotel or cottage in the picturesque countryside would suit me fine, but again I’m not sure.... if you have any suggestions, I'm definitely open to them.

Some Days...

2011-09-13T12:30:00.001+01:00

I consume more than one diet coke. Other days, I don’t drink any.

I don’t drink wine, even though I really, really want to…

I think about running away with just Molly for company. But then I think I would miss my husband and his hugs so he would probably have to come too ;)

I go from being really mad at myself for carrying a few extra pounds and not being motivated enough to get rid of them, to thinking of the time I spend at the gym in comparison to a lot of other people which re-affirms that my physical health isn’t all that bad.

I wish I could be at Mersey River, floating in a canoe on the lake with a Ricker’s Red.

Or wish that I was hiking through the Lake District, enjoying the serenity of the hills and lakes as I look forward to a pub meal washed down with a pint of stout, while Molly sits at my feet.

But wait, that wish is going to be a reality because tomorrow I’m taking my brother away to see what all the fuss is about… and I think he might just get it.

Getting away for a few days to one of my favourite locations ever, where Andy can join us in the evenings and all day on Friday (he is lucky enough to be working in Penrith) is just what we need. The company has approved a flat in Carlisle for him to stay in during his months away so although we won’t get the cozy cottage experience, we will get to stay longer because accommodation fees are not an issue and I like that just a lot.

Andy and I are actually figuring we are likely going to be spending more weekends than not up there... but who could blame us really.

Where you invest your love, you invest your life... (Awake My Soul)

2011-09-12T12:21:00.004+01:00

Lately I have been reading a number of blogs wherein my friends say that they wish they could be open and honest with their posts regarding current family issues, however as some subjects are of a delicate nature, they have to refrain, especially when the blog is open to a number of family readers. One friend has actually given up one blog to begin another that I don’t believe she is sharing with family.

I have always been forthright when I write my posts, perhaps too much so on the odd occasion; however there are some subjects that I have to refrain from for just this reason. When I first relocated to England, I found myself frustrated and angry and often wrote about my feelings regarding my husband’s former relationship and how difficult everything didn’t need to be. However I deleted those posts as a) I didn’t want to be that person, and b) I had no idea who was reading my blog…

Eight years on, I’m glad I did this because I know for a fact the kids know about this blog, as do their mother. For a long time I debated giving it up and starting another one that they didn’t have access to, or at least opening it to invited readers only. It’s no secret that Andy’s ex and I are not friends (that ship sailed a few years back despite my attempts to be amiable for the sake of the kids). I think most of my fellow readers would also agree that it’s not always ideal when your step-kids (or kids) have access to one’s most serious thoughts. This blog after all, has always been a form of therapy to me; so far, it’s kept me off the happy pills. Andy has asked me to not give up on this blog as it’s been a major player in my life for well over eight years, and why should I change it? I don’t write nasty paragraphs about anybody I know personally and if the kids don’t like the fact that I sometimes groan about how frustrating it can be raising another woman’s child, then guess what? They don’t have to read it. On the odd occasion when I have mentioned a particularly trying moment I’m experiencing in relation to the kids, it’s based on my perception of how it’s making me feel at any given time. I don’t share personal details because my posts are not primarily about them, they are about me and how I may or may not be handling a given situation.

This year has been one of the hardest yet in relation to dealing with familial issues. It’s had me re-evaluating my relationship with Andy’s kids and although I’m not willing to share what exactly has been going on, it’s fair enough to say that yet again another relationship has broken down, causing me to accept the fact that after putting my heart and soul into assisting Andy raise his children, I’m now taking a back seat. Please don’t think for a moment that it means I don’t love them any less. Love can’t be turned off like a faucet, however fortunate or not this may be.

Parenting is a thankless job at times, raising teenagers is hard enough but add a broken family into the mix and it becomes that much harder. I think perhaps I took the wrong road all those years ago. My heart bled for Andy’s children who had so much to contend with and I often put myself second, as so many ‘mothers’ do. I think a cool, hands-off approach would have served me better, even though it goes against the grain of my nature. However it would have saved me a lot of hassle and heart-ache. My sister-in-law probably had the right idea all along when it came to step-parenting.

Don’t get me wrong, although the past eight years have been filled with a lot of unnecessary BS, there have been a number of good times, more good times than bad and Andy and I still remain strong and united. However I have done a lot of thinking over the last week and I’ve decided that I’m finished with all the drama and that I’m going to live my life with my husband and no more looking back. What’s happened has happened and I’m not even going to bother to try and fix it… I’ve been there/done that and I’m finished with that role… the kids are all out of the house now, mostly grown. They have a mum and dad (as well as extended family members/friends) that they can turn to should they need it.

Sorry, but this well has run dry.

Temper, Temper

2011-09-07T15:50:00.000+01:00

I was looking for some inspiration today in terms of an interesting blog post and as my sister is participating in a type of question and answer session inspired over at plinky.com, I thought I’d follow suit (at least for today). The question that I chose to answer is:

What's the best way to blow off steam when you're angry?

This question caught my attention for a variety of reasons, namely because this past weekend I found myself very, very angry. I’m not going to say who I was angry at or why, but my anger manifested itself in a way it hasn’t in a very long time… I banged the kitchen wall hard with my right fist (side on), whilst simultaneously hitting it open-palmed with my right hand. I know this because my right wrist still hurts and my hand print is still on the wall.

I’ve always thought people who punched walls were stupid and I still do. You aren’t hurting anyone but yourself and what is gained really? But then, if I really think about it, it’s probably a much lesser form of ‘self-harm’ (well depending on how hard you actually hit the wall). And most people who self harm do so to give themselves a form of ‘release’.

I hit the wall once when I was a teenager, after a fight with my dad and I haven’t ever done it since; until this weekend. I think I was trying really hard to not let my tears win out, which is usually what happens when I’m angry. No matter, the tears still won out in the end, so what was the point? No one was there to witness my crazy behaviour; thankfully my brother was upstairs working out, however Connor did arrive at the house just as I was drying my tears, whilst trying to carry on making an Oreo Cheesecake to eat after the stifado that I was preparing for a dinner party that evening. Poor Connor didn’t hang around in the kitchen for long as he knew he was already in my ‘not impressed with you’ book and besides, it’s been a tough few months due to a few issues we’ve been having to deal with in relation to his brother so I think he knew leaving me to it was the best way to proceed. Poor mite, he wasn’t even around long enough that day to enjoy a piece of the cheesecake… which was gone by the next day. It would seem as if my husband and brother enjoyed it just a bit too much.

So to answer the question, this is what I normally try to do to assuage my anger (besides cry):

Exercise (lots and lots of exercise – shame I wasn’t angrier more often eh?)

Talk it out with someone who isn’t a cause of the anger, although sometimes I just prefer to be alone for awhile to sort through issues on my own. I will often talk to the person (if my anger is directed at an actual person) I’m angry with once I’ve calmed myself down. I believe words said in a temper are often ones we want to swallow as soon as they’ve left our mouths.

Listen to loud, angry music. One of my favourites is ‘I Hope You Die’ by the Bloodhound Gang. Sad, yet true, it is so therapeutic to me when I’m riled. The fact that it has swear words really helps.

Rumpelstiltskin, Pocahontas and Me

2011-09-03T17:05:00.000+01:00

I’m sure I heard it mentioned somewhere recently that fairy tales are going to become more modified; softer and sweeter. This made me pause for thought… hasn’t this already been done numerous times?

I adored the Grimm Brother Fairy Tales growing up. I was a child who seemed to be drawn to the dark side, I cannot lie. I much preferred the more ‘twisted’ tales told by the Brother’s Grim than those of Disney. Now don’t get me wrong, I can sing Princess Aurora’s ‘I know you’ as well as any eight year old girl who is obsessed with Disney; and although I am drawn to the caustic and woeful, I do adore a good love story. Admittedly these also tend to be of a more serious nature ie. ‘The Bridges of Madison County’ appeals much more than 'You've Got Mail’; Yet I will never seem to veto throwing in a handsome prince, it can’t hurt, however realistic they may or may not be because let’s face it, most young girls have the ability to realize, especially once grown, that Prince Charming is not likely to appear riding out of the mist on a white steed to whisk us away to never-never land. Even Kate Middleton, who did manage to snag herself a real life prince, isn’t living a fairy tale, not really. I mean, sure she has the beautiful home and pretty dresses, yet she has obligations and duties to attend to that I don’t envy. Not one bit.

The Brothers’ Grimm told a much more ‘grim’ story than more current fairy tales or other books written for children, yet despite this they often had an ending that saw stranded lovers reunited, or children freed from the horrible clutches of an old witch; but not before they had to go to hell and back before they had their ‘happy ending’, which to me is much more akin to real life than the softer versions that have been written in more recent years. (And let’s face it, as dark as these stories could sometimes get, they hold no comparison to some of the video games and movies that young children are being exposed to.) Oh, and I musn't forget one of my all time favourite fairy tales, The Princess Bride. Not a Brother's Grimm story, but a fairy tale all the same, one I only discovered in my early 20's.

The only aspect that I was (and still am) more drawn to regarding Disney versus the BG, were the princesses and how they were dressed. What little girl doesn’t adore Belle’s beautiful yellow dress? Come on admit it. You wanted that dress as badly as your male counterparts wanted a Luke Skywalker Life Sabre (ok… I wanted one of those too). Yet ironically enough, when I did have the chance to dress as a Disney character, I chose Pocahontas. She was much more my style in the end and much more suited to my personality.

However as much as I enjoyed the romance, accompanying music and fabulous dresses belonging to Aurora and Cinderella, I would still choose Rapunzel and Rumpelstiltskin every time.

What is your favourite fairy tale?

Into September...

2011-09-01T15:47:00.001+01:00

I can't believe today is the first of September; that summer is packing up it's bags and getting ready to leave me behind. Wait a moment.... summer already did that back around the first week in July.

This summer has been worse than most other typical English summers I have experienced and I shouldn't be sorry to see of the end of August, yet I am. For although September and October are months I often usually enjoy, I don't like leaving summer behind, no matter how crappy it was. And boy has it been crappy. Already there is a chill in the air first thing in the morning, and again by 4:00 pm. Already the nights are drawing in and I think this is the main factor behind my dislike of the winter months... .the lack of daylight.

Life always seems so much brighter when the days are longer. I get more exercise outside, it's not dark when I leave for work, and dark when I get home, I don't have to plan road trips around daylight, because let's face it, when I'm driving I hate to be out on unfamiliar roads in the black of night. I hate it. I guess this might lead to an indication that I'm officially old... yet why should this come as a surprise? I hit that mark ages ago, when the hightlight of my Saturday became watching the X-Factor with a bottle of wine and a take-away. Yet I make no apologies. I lived it up in my 20's people. Seriously lived it up, which means I'm ok with the fact that I don't need to be out all weekend long. Although occasionally Andy and I do enjoy an evening at the local pub, either in the beer garden during summer, or curled up next to the fire in winter, which hopefully indicates that we aren't ready for the geriatric unit just yet.

September is gearing up to be a good month though, as I have a few vacation days to take here and there (starting tomorrow) and will be journeying out with my brother on a few day trips, as well as to the Lake District in two weeks time. As of today I have 23 full days left with him and I'm going to relish everyone, as will Molly I'm sure. I should think it will be a toss up over who is going to miss his company more, me or Molly.

Tomorrow's agenda is a road trip to Nottingham with John, Connor, Dawn and Cameron. One last trip out for the boys before they start school next week.

Let's hope the sun at least pokes it's nose out at least once.

My February Girls

2011-08-31T16:08:00.001+01:00

When I was growing up and even when I was well into my mid twenties, whenever I heard the words 'Jody, we need to talk' I always instantly thought the worst. What did I do wrong? Have I said something I shouldn't have? I know a lot of people take it personally or think they have done something they shouldn't have when the boss seems quiet or moody. I used to think that too. As I've grown older I've stopped thinking that way. At least at work. If one of my managers walks by and doesn't say anything, or I can tell something is up, I rarely if ever, think it has something to do with me. Maybe it's because I'm confident, maybe its because I know that the boss has a million other things on her mind to occupy her thoughts than just me. I'm only one minion of many after all.

I'll get straight to my point today as I don't feel like boring you (I know right? Usually it takes me at least six paragraphs to say what I have to say, by which time I've probably lost at least 70% of you).

So... I get a fair amount of texts and emails, and sometimes comments on this blog. I look forward to every single one. Then there is facebook. I enjoy getting comments on my posts and pictures (who doesn't). However when I open facebook and see that there is a message via email, prior to seeing who it is from I am momentarily filled with apprehension. I don't know why and I can't stand that I feel this way. There is no reason for it. But then again, I think of all the upheaval that has been chucked my way over the last few years and I can almost convince myself that this is justified... at least a little. Why only on facebook email? If you can answer that question I will give you a bottle of my favourite wine.

The best part however, of opening my texts and emails are receiving those from sister and sister-in-law with photos of my two gorgeous nieces (born a year apart). Nothing makes me smile faster (although my mom's are a close second let me tell you).

For example:

Daisy has been going to the pool with her mum since she was around four months old. This was taken last month, when she was 5 1/2 months old. Daisy is now our little mermaid don't you think?

I can't believe Clara is now a toddler rather than a baby... she is such a clever and gorgeous child who seemingly loves to model the clothes her Aunty Jods sends from the UK ;) Clara has been wearing sunglasses since she was an infant, which in itself is a major feat (and so cool).

Don't make me choose

2011-08-30T09:01:00.001+01:00

I don’t know if many of you are aware of this, but I have trouble making decisions.

Usually the best way for me to make a decision is to make it very quickly. If I have to spend time pondering, weighing pro’s against cons, I can end up taking a lifetime to make that decision. There are some decisions that would take an eternity for me to make. For instance, if you were to put Sam and Dean Winchester (characters from a television show, a fact which makes this completely bogus, but still a girl can have her silly dreams right?) in front of me and told me to pick one that I could have an amazing night with I honestly don't know if I could do it. (You are probably wondering where my husband would stand on this, but bear in mind, we all have a top five celebrity list and I think even he would know not to interfere with me and the Winchester boys. I wouldn’t dare come between him and Halle Berry) I have spent an inane amount of time daydreaming of both brothers over the last few years. Both of them. Sorry Andy, it’s true. And sorry readers, if the direction of this post is making you uncomfortable; if this is the case I have a whole other selection of enjoyable blogs listed to the right of this page for you to choose from (sorry to give you a decision to make ;) Although be warned, many of my fellow bloggers talk about sex, bowel movements and hair dye for ‘down there’, so I just might be the safer bet.

Where was I? Oh yes, the Winchester boys. If you asked me to choose between those two, I don’t know if I could answer because as soon as my brain starts to say Sam, with his incredible, hard body, I think about Dean’s big gorgeous eyes and those soft full lips and I’m torn up all over again. Perhaps it’s better if I move on from this line of thinking…

Here are a few real (and non juvenile) examples in which I was able to reach a conclusion after little thought…

When Andy asked me if I would move to the UK with him I made my decision without really thinking about it. I just said yes, even though I knew it would be hard to leave my home and family. Looking back, after eight years of trying to manage difficult situations with his ex-wife and kids, I’m not so sure the choice would have been an easy one, yet still I would have said yes. I love him that much.

When I found out my mom had cancer, there was no discussion regarding if I would travel to be there for her, it was when I would travel, and how long I would stay. It was one of the easiest decisions of my life.

If we are at our local pub and the choices for dessert are chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream versus, well any other dessert, I will always choose the chocolate brownie, hands down. It is that amazing, trust me. I wish every choice in life was as easy.

I seem to have a knack for helping other’s think about the possible outcomes for any troublesome decisions they may be having difficulty reaching. I can be very objective. A few of these people even take my advice… at least those who are over 25 seem to. I’m wasting my breath when it comes to the under 25’s. I suppose the reason behind this is that they have all the answers anyway so they don’t need the help.

Soon I will likely have an opportunity that will require the necessity to make a very big decision and already I’m fretting about possibly having to make a choice that will affect my life... again. Of course I’m being premature and shouldn’t even be thinking of this until I’m actually given a choice. Easier said then done though isn’t it?

Itchy and Scratchy

2011-08-26T12:11:00.000+01:00

I know I’ve mentioned previously that our Molly hasn’t been in the best of health these last few weeks. She’s been suffering with a terrible itch and the antihistamines I have been giving her are no longer working.

She started getting a rash and skin abrasions this week which indicated it was time for her to go back to the dreaded vet (I don’t find the Irish Mark appalling in the least, but Molly obviously doesn’t share my opinion). Because Andy had the day off work today he was the one to take her. I imagine that our phone conversation afterward must have sounded no different to the girls in the office than if I’d been talking to my husband about a child. I was firing off questions about what the vet had to say, asking why he thinks it might be an allergy to her food and what side effects the tablets she is now going to have to take for a month will have on her.

I suppose the only positive we can take from this is the boys might finally come to the realization that feeding our dog cookies and other crappy human food is not beneficial, no matter how unkind it seems to refrain from doing so. One thing that is clear though, is that both Andy and I hate seeing our little fur-girl suffer and we will do everything to ensure it stops.

It’s been an added bonus having John around as he takes Molly for a long walk every day while I am at work and that combined with any exercise we give her, should help keep her weight down due to the steroids she is now on.

I think taking her on a nice long hike this weekend will be top of the agenda.

Our poorly girl

I guess you could call it an evolution of food...

2011-08-23T09:37:00.001+01:00

This weekend I managed to accomplish a number of tasks that make me want to give myself a lovely reward. Except the only reward I fancy at the moment is a big bowl of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice-cream and because I’ve worked hard this last week, that bowl of ice-cream would undo all I’ve been working to achieve.

Despite the fact that Saturday morning found me sluggish and bloated as a result of the wonderful affliction us women are cursed with on a monthly basis, I went to the gym and managed 40 minutes of cardio. Those of you who are females over 35 will understand that this is an achievement in itself.

My mother-in-law had a gathering in her garden on Saturday afternoon and I managed to eat selectively and refrain from alcohol (I had used up my weekly allowance of wine on Friday night, however in light of some news that I have been landed with that I’m not prepared to share at this moment, I deserved those four glasses of wine that I gulped down in the presence of good friends).

Sunday morning I jogged laps around the local park, then did fast sprints between a few trees that severely pushed my limitations. Don’t worry I wasn’t alone so I didn’t look as ridiculous as I could have. Although I bet you there was more than one person in that park who wished they shared our motivation (that person is usually me). I do wish we lived closer to Alison and Scott (my sister and brother in law) as working out this way is so rewarding. Maybe one of these days my husband will catch the 'work-out with your wife bug' (that’s a hint Andy).

The weekend stayed reasonably nice and Sunday night we barbecued chicken which we ate with green salad and feta. What has been astounding me these days though is that my brother, who until he embarked on his trip abroad, had a very basic diet and would never, ever try something he didn’t like the look of (his own words). Since he has been staying with us and has travelled in Europe, he has tried a number of foods he normally wouldn’t (i.e. linguine with pesto) and is realizing how much he has been missing out on. John is also acknowledging that healthy food can be delicious, saying that he is now looking forward to trying out a lot of the food our little sister has been cooking on her quest to become the incredibly fit beauty she now is. I still can’t get used to the fact that not only will he eat salad, but will eat a second helping. I was delighted last night when I showed him the cookbook I credit with my becoming more accomplished in the kitchen and he said it is something that he definitely wants to try his hand at and said he said he might even surprise me with a meal when I get home from work some night.

If my brother does indeed become someone who likes to experiment in the kitchen, it won’t be me alone who can credit this fellow and his book for learning to cook great meals from scratch:

Funnily enough, my sister also has this cook book but in Canada it's called Evolution of Food... whatever you call it, it's a definite stepping stone for anyone who wants to do more than warm a pizza up in the oven.

You can't buy it anywhere

2011-08-19T14:18:00.000+01:00

This morning I had to drop the Kia off at the dealership as it needed to be recalled for some specialised undercoating that needed to be applied. I wasn’t too bothered about the details, so long as it didn’t cost us any money.

I did pause for a moment as I was handing over the keys, to wonder if I should have tidied the car up a bit more. However this thought was only fleeting, because I had picked up the scattered receipts, wrappers, diet coke cans and lone, day-old banana peel stuffed in the side pocket. What more could they ask? As far as I was concerned they could ignore the scattered gym gear scattered all over the interior.

I love my vehicle I really do, but tidying it and washing it is not high on my agenda; besides my husband does a great job of it and really seems to enjoy it. Well that’s how I choose to look at it anyway. I do know the car would have been sparkling if it had been Andy dropping it off this morning. However I’m glad I didn’t bother because they washed it all the same.

When I was single I did try and look after my car, especially the new ones that I managed to procure in my mid 20’s. I even went so far as to check the tires and keep the oil topped up. I had to; there wasn’t anyone else who was going to look after my car for me. My dad barely looked after his own vehicle so he sure wasn’t going to take the time to sort mine out. I kept on top of servicing and made sure that whatever car I happened to own ran smoothly. I might have washed and vacuumed my car out about twice a year which seemed adequate enough for me. Besides, I did get better as my cars became newer and a bit more flash. Unlike my first car, a beat down little ford escort. The backseat of that looked like a garbage bin; I sometimes even managed to muster up the ability to feign sheepishness when I had to sweep the rubbish from one foot well to another so my friends could squeeze into the back seat.

Thinking of that little ford escort makes me think about my cousin Wayne. He was the one that test drove it for me because it was a standard and I didn’t have a clue how to drive it. I didn’t have a clue how to do a lot of tasks that are required when one becomes a car owner. For instance, I remember one very hot, summer’s day when I had the bright idea that not only would I wash my escort, but give it a good waxing to try and brighten its dull burgundy coat. No one ever told me how to wax a car, and they certainly didn’t tell me that you don’t spread the wax over the whole car, never mind on a day when the sun is out in full force. I tell myself now that I could probably have taken a few minutes to read the instructions that were likely right there on the label; not that I would have, the only labels I read in those days were the ones affixed to clothes and beer bottles.

So when it came time to finally take the wax off I was appalled. That stuff wasn’t moving. No matter how I wet it down or furiously scrubbed it, only a very small bit at a time was coming off. After 30 minutes of continuously scrubbing, only one small area of the hood was clear and not very shiny. I was exhausted. My mother had no answers for me. We didn’t have the internet in those days so I couldn’t use that as a reference, yet I knew there had to be some product I could get my hands on that would make getting the wax off easier. Because I wanted to know what I would need to look for at the store before driving a car that was covered in a grey film to town (humiliating enough), I did what I always did when it came to that car. I called my cousin Wayne, explained what I had done and asked him what I needed to use to get the wax off. I wasn’t best pleased when he started laughing and pointed out that I should never have covered the whole car all at once. I remember replying that I understood my mistake but would he please tell me what I needed to get it off. I was getting pretty fed up with it all. I was relieved when he finally answered that the only thing that was going to get the wax off was Elbow Grease. I then proceeded to ask him if I could buy it at Canadian Tire. Laugh if you must. Wayne sure did. To add injury to insult, he couldn’t come over and share his elbow grease with me as he was working on his own truck. It took me hours and I have never waxed a car since.

I find myself thinking of my cousin frequently today and will probably remind him of this story when I call him later to wish him a happy birthday.

And its christened me with wonder...

2011-08-16T14:09:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a peculiar kind of day. For a start, it was Monday and like the lazy orange ball of fluff otherwise known as Garfield, I don’t like Mondays.

I went to the gym for a much needed work out and forgot to bring socks. Normally I turn around and leave as the thought of bare, sweaty feet encased in trainers is just disgusting. Although I had a half decent work out it wasn’t as beneficial as it could have been due to my being without socks. Should I forget them again (which hasn’t happened in years) I will not be working out. I have to give credit to my friend and fellow blogger Dawn for doing this on more than one occasion recently.

When I was re-packing my gym bag afterwards, I must have taken my book out and left it laying on the bench because last night as I went to find it before bed it was missing. I was enjoying that book so hopefully when I ring the gym it will be to discover that a kind person has handed it in.

After three weeks of being home every evening, Andy is now going to be based out of Penrith. It’s three hours away but the bonus is that it is near the top of the lakes. That is, England’s beautiful Lake District, a place that I never get tired of exploring so hopefully Andy and I will be able to get in some good hikes over the next 10 months or so.

Andy’s timing for hitting the road was timed appropriately as my brother returned from his trip on Sunday night, which seems a fair trade off. John is tanned, super fit and ready for a rest. His pictures are amazing, especially those of the Italian Dolomite's. He and I spent the evening last night looking through the brilliant photos he’s captured along the way. Andy and I are having a hard time deciding what type of holiday we want next; We waver between a beach, hiking or city break. Unfortunately he can’t get leave until November so a beach holiday is definitely ruled out. I’m hopeful that once my husband bears witness to these amazing mountains he will share in my excitement of possibly planning a trip in the not too distant future, maybe next spring. The fact that we have close friends living in a town nearby is just an added bonus.

I was filled with joy at how my brother also fell in love with Venice. We both spent ages last night pouring over and comparing the pictures we have both captured in this floating city. Andy and I were fortunate enough to have visited Venice on our first wedding anniversary. Although we have lots of other regions to explore, Venice will definitely be a repeat at some point, maybe for another milestone anniversary...

Why not just blame someone else?

2011-08-11T12:56:00.001+01:00

I usually try to stay away from sensitive issues on this blog. I try not to give my opinions on politics, religion or many current events that take place around the world. Does it make for a boring site? Maybe not for my friends and family, they probably find it semi-interesting at times; however I figure that for those who don’t know me and stumble upon my site, they pass through without a second glance. I’m 90% positive that the subject matter here isn’t exactly what they were looking for when they might have done a search on Joe Brown or a certain poet. Especially not if the search was for ‘full frontal nudity’ or ‘babes with big knockers’ only to come across one of my (many) posts relating to breasts (although I am a babe with impressive ‘knockers’). However I won’t be posting any nude pictures here, not today, tomorrow or next year. The closest I’ve gotten to revealing any nudity was on one of my breast cancer ‘challenge’ posts more than a few years back (and I’m not linking to that site, if you want to find it go look for it). Speaking of that post, I have to admit that even now, a year later, I still feel the loss of losing all my comments from preceding years due to the fact that I didn’t save my template before changing the design. That blog generated some of the most interesting comments this blog has seen. And since I don’t have a lot of registered followers on my site, and only a few comments, it sucks that I’ve lost all those that have gone before.

It only causes me a modicum of dismay that I don’t have a huge mass of registered followers on my site. I say this because my stat bar tells me that I have a large volume of traffic through this site and although you don’t want to let me know you’ve dropped by, I can still see that you have been here. I know I don’t talk about the most tantalising of subjects, or advertise. Then add to the equation that I’m quite random: I’m not a mommy blogger, or a weight watcher blogger. I don’t have any fantastic talents to share like DIY tips on how to reupholster a couch using only a yard of fabric and a glue stick (although I wish I did). I like to talk about some of my favourite recipes, how I don’t work out enough, the antics we get up to with friends and family, how I’d often rather spend time with my dog before anyone else; sometimes I will even post a few photos. Food and drink usually take a prime position because let’s face it… I love to eat and drink. Too much so, but life can be short so why the hell not?

So getting to back to what I originally sat down to gripe about today: the riots that have been taking over England. I’m going to try to keep it short yet I’m so angered and appalled by a situation that should never have been allowed to get so out of control. I think that the world a hundred years ago was a world that needed improving. Women needed the right to vote, people had to have safer work environments with more reasonable working hours; children had to have someone listen to them if they were being hurt. I’m all for those changes that eventually happened over time, and many more.

What upsets me is that the world changed, and then changed again, for the worse. When did the criminal start being the victim? When did it become ok for an armed man to wave his gun at the police and not expect to get shot for his decision to do so? It’s somehow the fault of the police and people are crying out for justice for that young man. Sorry, but I think there is something wrong here.

How is it that looters and rioters are allowed to run rampant through our streets, taking what they like no matter who get’s in the way, setting businesses and cars alight, yet when the police use a bit of ‘excessive’ force they are followed with constant criticism by the very people they are trying to protect?

Teachers aren’t allowed to hug their students anymore because of the fear they might be accused of something inappropriate. Neighbours can’t yell at naughty children on the street to behave, let alone march them back to their parents because it has ‘nothing to do with them’, or for fear of retribution. It’s getting to the point where parents have to be extra careful with how they discipline their own children because of what can happen to them if they make one wrong move. Employers are being forced to keep employees on the books who should have been dismissed long ago. The list goes on and on.

Are you aware that some prisons in Britain supply their inmates with play stations and other forms of entertainment? Is that really what tax dollars are paying for? Never mind how it must make the victims feel. Sure, they might be locked up, but they haven’t lost out on many of their human rights… human rights that should have been taken away when they made the decision to hurt another as far as I’m concerned.

No one is held accountable for their actions any more. Good people live in fear of one little misstep because they could be facing a law suit for saying or doing the ‘wrong’ thing. Children are growing up not needing to learn about consequences, because let’s face it for most of them there aren’t any.

I know that many of you are raising your children to have respect (as are Andy and I). I know that many of the changes that have been taking place over the years are beneficial, and right. That it’s not all bad and there are so many moments to cherish in life. Still I can’t help but wonder what kind of world the children of today will inherit.

It didn't rain, but she got wet just the same

2011-08-09T08:33:00.000+01:00

The past weekend was a quiet one at our house; Friday night we did in fact go for a pub meal with Robert and Dawn. The evening passed quickly as it usually does when we are curled up on one of the sofas in our local, enjoying a few beverages and first rate companionship.

Andy worked both Saturday and Sunday, which must have been exciting for him. Me? Well I tidied the house, walked Molly, watched way too much TV and spent over an hour on the phone with my sister for a much needed talk. And that was only Saturday. Try to curb your excitement for me ok?

Sunday was the better day weather wise so I decided to take Molly for a long walk at one of her favourite locations. Because it’s been rather humid round these parts recently and my girl has been suffering from an aggravating itch (which is finally subsiding due to antihistamines) she didn’t wait before jumping into the stream at an area where I normally don’t let her because of the wildlife. She’s normally so well behaved but there was no holding her back from that first plunge.

I did however manage to get her out quickly, and keep her out of the water near this lovely little family:

It’s great to see the babies up and out of the nest.

When we got to the area where she is allowed to swim, she barely tolerated me telling her to wait and wouldn’t look at me, her whole body saying ‘come on already, let me go’:

Of course, once she’s in she’s completely pleased with herself:

The rest of the walk was filled with me chucking a stick into the stream for her, as we both cheerfully enjoyed our afternoon jaunt, despite the threatening rain clouds.

When I got back to the car, I lowered all the windows and prepared to leave my soaking companion for five minutes while I dashed into the shop for a salad. It was at this moment that I had the bad fortune to realize I must have dropped my bank card along our route. (I had taken the card as I didn’t have any change.) It must have fallen out of my pocket at a moment when I was pulling my phone out to capture a photo. There was nothing to do but go back and retrace our steps. As the whole circuit takes about 45 minutes (when not stopping to play), I wasn’t looking forward to it. Molly on the other hand, couldn’t believe her luck. Another walk that would also allow for one more swim… Why should she be anything other than keen? So off we went, one happy dog and one frustrated Jody. Of course I didn’t find the card. I managed to look on the bright side though: both Molly and I had plenty of exercise.

I cancelled the card immediately and it will take 3-5 working days for a new one to be sent. Good thing I have a husband with another card to the same account.

That Friday Feelin

2011-08-05T14:02:00.001+01:00

Today has been the first five day work week I’ve had in a while and surprisingly it hasn’t passed to slowly. I don’t have much planned this weekend other than a trip to the hair salon and exercising both myself and Molly.

To wrap my week up I’m going to highlight what’s made me smile, and on the flip side, what's made me frown.

What I’ve been smiling at:

• I have been working out more regularly and feel better for it. I also feel better that I haven’t let myself down by not going to the gym.

• My husband has been working local for the last few weeks and I’m enjoying having him home in the evenings.

• The pita wrap I had for lunch yesterday made with sundried tomatoes, avocado, olives, pickle and cheese – yummy!

• A new British program I’ve been watching called Sirens that made me laugh out loud a few times;

• Sitting in the hot tub after a hard work out, there is no better way to sooth sore muscles.

• I haven’t had a glass of wine since the 3rd July (gasp) and I’m not even craving it. Why I’m smiling about that is beyond me – do I even know who I am anymore?

• My new navy wedge heels from Clarks

• Listening to my mom tell me she was out with her sisters both Saturday and Sunday night until past 2:00 am.

• This evening we are meeting friends at the local pub for a few drinks and a something to eat and if the weather holds Molly and Carter might even be able to come with us.

What I've been frowning at:

• Despite working out and eating healthy (never mind not drinking any wine), the scales told me I gained three pounds. Those scales are lucky they didn’t get thrown out the window – argh!

• The idiot cyclists in this town – some guy almost drove his bike right into my moving vehicle this morning.

• Molly’s itch is back again, and it’s chronic. Instead of taking her to the vet, I’m starting her on a round of antihistamines; when taken daily I’m told these will help.

• Finding out that my bike is not fit to ride anymore, when I haven’t even been on in it! (kids eh?)

• The smell of manure in the air due to the farmers spreading it all over their fields… it’s not been the best summer we could ask for, however this week has been muggy and having to keep the windows shut at dinner is just friggin perfect. At least the worst of it seems to be over today.

I hope most of you have had more smiles than frowns this week. Feel free to share any anecdote's that might make the rest of us smile too.

A letter to my younger self

2011-08-03T12:41:00.003+01:00

Dear Younger Self,

There are so many things that I wish I could have shown you before you had to live them for yourself, to spare you some of the heart-ache you are going to suffer; either at the hand of other people, or as a result of something stupid you will do. And I don’t want to frighten you, but girl, you are going to make a lot of asinine mistakes in the coming years.

I’m not going to say that I would point you in a different direction to the path you chose to take, because the paths you have taken in life have made you the person you are today; besides, you do have a lot of fun along the way. Anyway, I’d like to think you grew up to be a pretty good woman. A person who has learned some very hard lessons that I wish you could avoid, but as the old cliche goes (the 2nd one I’ve used in this paragraph), there is no going back.

I do however wish I could tell you not to fret about a lot of the stuff that is causing you anxiety, that I could share some of the confidence that you have now as an adult. Actually, I wish that you had been born with this confidence that comes easily now, after putting on such a good act, for so very long. It’s true what they say, if you fake something long enough you can make anyone believe it, even yourself.

I wish I could tell you as a young girl, to stop obsessing about your weight, teeth and skin. You aren’t overweight, stop comparing yourself to the other girls who are all much skinner than you. One day, when you have finished school you will see that you were not that unappealing and that as a 30-something year old, you've aged a lot better than most of the girls in your school. The boys who want those girls now will come to realise that you are someone worth getting to know but for them, it will be too late. You will eventually lose interest in them, and rightly so. And those boobs that you hate so much for bringing you the wrong kind of attention? You will learn to make peace with them and even grow to begrudgingly like them, even though buying clothes will never get easier. However moving to the UK (something I bet you think you will never have the courage to do) will be the best thing that could happen in regard to your boobs (amongst other things); the selection of bras, at very reasonable prices is much better than what you get in Canada. It’s not only the small busted that get matching bra sets in brilliant designs in the UK. It’s understood that big busted girls need la variety of choice too, at affordable prices. Oh, and you grow into your teeth, and although they aren’t perfect you learn to accept them too, and actually start to believe that they add character; You grow to admire people like Barbara Streisand, for not changing what so many others would. Perfection isn’t what you will strive for as an adult. Self-acceptance and a healthy lifestyle is much more important, trust me on this one.

At 13 you are a 140 pound, 5’7” girl with big breasts, not fat by any means; I wish you would stop comparing yourself to your sisters who are much, much thinner. You are built differently; maybe this has something to do with mom feeding you homogenised milk when you were a baby, but maybe not. It’s just what it is. And to this day, I’m still proud of you for standing up to your Aunt, the one who used to poke your belly while commenting on the fact that you should be skinnier (although that doesn’t happen for another five years). I just wish you wouldn’t let moments like those, and a few others, lead you down the road that you are going to take. I wish you were a stronger person (which isn’t fair, you are just a kid) because as a result of your insecurities, combined with more than one devastating event, you have a long hard battle in front of you that still hasn’t been completely resolved. I’m sorry for this. I really am. I feel like I’ve let you down.

If I could encourage you to do anything Young Self, it would be that you spend more time with your sisters, because now that you’ve outgrown playing barbies with them, you don’t have a lot of time for them; most of your time is taken up with your friends and pining after boys. You will be sorry about that when you are an adult, but the adult you knows deep in her heart that you aren’t a lot different to any other teenage girl; there will be time enough for becoming close friends, best friends even, with your sisters when you are fully grown.

Your obsession with boys and all things social isn’t doing you any favours at school either, but you can’t say you haven’t been told about that already. I have a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t listen to me anyway, no more than you listen to anyone else (you might be happy to know that some things will never change and younger you isn’t a whole lot different to older you… especially your brilliant sense of humour ;)

I wish you weren’t so interested in sex either… that you would forget about losing your virginity in a few years time, like so many of your friends. It’s much more important to find someone who really cares about you, but then again, that’s something you aren’t going to learn until after the fact. You eventually learn not to settle for less than you deserve. It will take time and you will have to go through a bit of heart-ache, but you do end up with someone worthy of your love, someone who has a bigger heart than any other guy you will ever meet, even though he tries to keep that a secret. Someone who is worth all your crushes combined. And you probably aren’t surprised to learn he lives abroad; but then again, maybe you are… I don’t think you develop your penchant for foreign men until you are at least 15 ;)

Younger self, you will go through a whole series of events in your life, some that will really test you. But you will get tougher as the years go on. You are going to make some hard decisions, some that will trouble you for longer than you expect, but you will be ok. You have always had the capacity to make friends with ease, and that hasn’t changed. I bet you aren’t surprised to learn that some of the friends you have now will still be your friends in 25 years. Amazing eh? Time, distance or life hasn’t gotten in the way of those true friendships.

Right now you probably aren’t thinking past the weekend and what you will be doing, which will likely be spending it at your best friends house, hoping to see Stephen Chaisson, whom you have had a crush on for far too long; hoping that this might be the weekend where you end up in the dark with him for ten minutes. (Although now that I look back, I really can’t understand how that boy held your attention for so long.) Troy Pennell, him I can understand. He was a great guy, and in another few months, you will transfer your attention to him for a short period. I’ll let you in on another secret; in grade 12 you actually make out with him one evening after a party, even though you have long outgrown your junior high crush. I’m telling you, things start looking a lot brighter by high school.

What I guess I'm trying to say, is that all in all you are a typical, albeit naive (although many adults comment on how mature you are) 13 year old girl. Although I know you look forward to growing up, I wish in some ways I could go back there with you, if only to be that dreamy girl again; or maybe just to whisper some answers in your ear.

(I apologise for the length of this post, yet I highly recommend this project to my fellow bloggers - writing it was very therapeutic.)

A baby, Jamie Oliver, and more than one nasty swan...

2011-08-01T09:45:00.000+01:00

Friday morning I caught the train down to Nottingham spend Friday with Alison and Daisy. Since I arrived at lunch time, we met Scott at Jamie Oliver's restaurant - Jamie's Italian; I was impressed by the ambiance in the restaurant (the decor is fantastic) and even more so by the food; we had a few different samplers of starters for our lunch, alongside a variety of bread and olives on ice. It was perfect. I would have wanted to love it no matter what, as I have a bit of a soft spot for Jamie Oliver, but I had to fabricate nothing. I loved the whole experience.

Daisy was a little gem and slept throughout the whole meal, leaving us adults to chat. Ali and I spent the afternoon browsing around the shops; and again Daisy was a star. I think she is gong to be an impressive shopper one day. She will certainly have the experience behind her.

I took this picture when Daisy was getting ready for bed. Her mom wants a copy of this as it will look great in her bedroom :) I love what my camera can do with colour effects.

She's a little beauty, for sure; and those legs! Ridiculous chubby eh?

I was happy to give Alison and Scott a night off, in order that they could both get a good night's sleep. They didn't need asking twice and cheerily made their way to bed by midnight and didn't appear until just after 8 a.m., rested and ready to go for the day.

Me? Well lets just say I didn't get much sleep. This could be for a number of reasons:

a) I often don't sleep well the first night or two I'm away from home

b) Miss Daisy is a restless sleeper; she kicks the mattress repeatedly in her sleep. (How those legs stay so fat is a mystery :)

c) I constantly had one ear tuned in to the baby which is silly because it's not like I wouldn't hear her if she woke up (which she did once, at 2:30, but only for a moment).

d) When I did cat nap I had ridiculous dreams.

And still, when she woke at 6:00 am I couldn't be grumpy with her because the smile that meets you first thing in the morning could melt a glacier.

Much later in the morning when we were all up, we stopped for coffee and then got on the road to Clumber Park where we met Andy Connor and Molly. Andy swapped Connor for me as he will be staying with his Aunt and Uncle until Wednesday.

Here are a few pictures from our walk through the park.

If there is a tree that needs climbing, Connor will find it:

Connor, me and Ali:

Me and Alison:

Scott and Andy with the pram:

The swans were in abundance; they didn't like Molly at all; and boy can they hiss, the beguiling little buggers:

I'm not sure why Molly isn't in any of these pictures... she was probably too busy trying to figure out ways of sneaking past the swans into the water. (Although we didn't let her swim on this walk as the last time she was in fowl-filled water she came down with an irritating itch.)

Baby was enjoying her walk :

I spent the rest of Saturday feeling a little punch drunk, and because it was just me and Andy in the house, Molly and I were able to catch a two hour nap later in the day.

Summer, where are you?

2011-07-27T15:07:00.000+01:00

May was a month that seemed to be full of discord and distress in our house… although it carried over into June, I worked hard to ensure it didn’t affect our lives more than it needed to, especially since my brother was visiting.

July has been a busy month, yet at the same time I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished very much. I would sum this up to the fact that I was feeling low with my chest infection, which I’m happy to report is now behind me. I went back to the gym on Saturday morning and have promised myself that I will work out at 3-4 times a week. If I don’t make it to the gym, I will take Molly out for an extra long walk, or go on a bike ride.

Andy and I have been using tennis rackets to bat a ball back and forth on the field for Molly on fine evenings – it’s great exercise for her, and not bad for me either, as I often race Molly for the ball if I miss (which I do more often than I like to admit. I won’t be making it to Wimbledon next year that’s for sure.)

I think I’m fed up because we aren’t having much of a summer here; I know most of my Canadian friends and family are (finally) experiencing a proper summer and Ontario is actually having a heat wave (nothing new there); I don’t feel sorry for those who are complaining, as I would love to feel some good, proper heat. When it gets too hot here (a very rare event), I don’t have a beautiful beach like Crystal Crescent to go to,

but what we have is good enough. At the moment it's sunny and about a comfortable 20c but that will probably change in 30 minutes.

(I can only day dream of this place until next summer)

I haven’t been trying out very many new recipes lately as I’m trying not to overeat. Last night, after working out I did make a summer strawberry and almond crumble for Andy. My plan was to not have any at all, but then how can I deny myself a wee taste of something that I have made? So I did. And it was scrumptious if I say so myself. I only had a small bowl and wasn’t too hard on myself regarding the extra calorie intake as I haven’t had a glass (or bottle) of wine since the 3rd July. That’s 24 days. 24 Days... I don’t know why I’ve gone off wine. Not a bad thing I guess, as I was drinking too much of it. I’m sure most of you are aware of this, but for those of you who aren’t, wine has a lot of calories. Calories I don’t need.

In other exciting news, I’m now sleeping a bit better as I have finally booked myself an appointment with a dentist. I have been a bit picky since moving to England in relation to finding a dentist – the few I have seen have suggested pulling a tooth rather than fixing it (not the answer) and as the dentist my husband and his children go to is definitely not up to my standard, I had been opting to visit the dentist on my trips back to Nova Scotia. However I haven’t seen that dentist in forever (I’m not telling you how long it’s been because of the shame) and I’ve decided that not seeing a dentist at all is worse than seeing a mediocre one. After looking around I have found a reputable, good dentist and have an appointment in a few weeks; And I will try my damnedest to not compare. I know they likely won’t have a hygienist clean my teeth and definitely won’t have a TV in the ceiling (mine back home didn't either, so that's ok) but if the cleaning last’s longer than ten minutes, I will not complain.

I was also delighted to stumble across two great blogs whilst searching for something completely unrelated: Ea-pea Dave's Terra Nova and Better After

The first appeals to me because of my Canadian roots, the 2nd because I can only ever dream of accomplishing the wonderful feats that are displayed over there and I might just get a little inkling of inspiration.

The Law of Averages

2011-07-19T16:09:00.002+01:00

I’ve been living with a chest infection now the past 10 days and therefore haven’t been able to go to the gym. Meaning the last time that I had any good exercise, was the day we hiked Mount Snowden in Wales (which was a spectacular workout, even though we hiked down, not up). That makes it 12 days since I’ve worked out. It’s driving me nuts. Funny, but when I can go to the gym, I have long debates with myself about whether or not I should go; you take the option away from me and what’s the first thing I want to do? Work out. You would think I was three, not 30 something. My mom, who works out regularly and by this I mean daily, has said that there is nothing I can do about it. I know that she is right in the fact that if I were to go for just a short spin on a stationary bike at this point in time I’m likely to have a set back, thus delaying my return by even longer. Not only have I been living with bronchitis for about 25 years, my mother has been dealing with me. So I will listen to my mother and give it another few days, especially now that the antibiotics are starting to kick in.

I tried to explain to Andy this morning that I will let him know when I’m returning to the gym, that his asking me is only making me feel worse. Yes, I know that I mentioned I would try to get back to the gym yesterday, but I was only fooling myself and he should have known that… I mean you would think that after nearly 10 years together he would have the ability to read my mind! I guess he’s only developed the ability to see through my clothes. Oh wait. He’s told me that when he’s staring at my chest he’s willing me to take off my top, that he doesn’t have x-ray vision. I suppose the fact that after all this time together my husband still has thoughts of my boobs isn’t a bad thing, but then again, they are spectacular if I say so myself. Yup that’s right. Even with all the inconvenience they’ve caused me, I love my boobs. But how can I not? When more than one female in my family has battled breast cancer what other option do I have? I wish more women would appreciate the boobs they have – big, small, droopy or wrinkly, because once you are faced with the option of losing one, or both, I think it sheds a different light on the situation.

So, boobs and chest cold aside, I’m just going to have to sit back and wait this bugger out for a few more days. I’m hoping that by tomorrow, or realistically, Thursday, I will be able to get on the cross trainer again. Spinning will have to take a back sit till at least the weekend.

I’m trying to keep myself distracted by reading and watching TV, without over-eating. Yes, I’m not feeling the best but there is not a damn thing wrong with my appetite.

My friend is coming over tonight to help keep me distracted and those of you who know me will have a good laugh at what she has planned; she’s bringing her math homework with her so I can help her study for her exam tomorrow. For those of you who don’t know me, let me clarify what my family and friends are probably wetting themselves with laughter over: I had to take math 5 times in three years to ensure I graduated high school with the rest of my class. It’s going to take my friend five times longer to figure it out with me helping her, I can assure you.

A Lyrical Little Country

2011-07-15T15:27:00.000+01:00

I've only been at work two days this week - Monday and Wednesday. I took Tuesday off as John was catching his train to London to begin his backpacking journey and I thought I'd have the afternoon off as I've been exhausted lately, with a hacking, annoying cough. Work Wednesday was a bit of a struggle as I was constantly coughing - the more I move and talk, the more I cough. So I decided to have today and yesterday off to rest, because I know that when I get my bronchitis, rest is best. I will go to the doctor this afternoon just in case I need antibiotics. I know I'm not well though when I'm not interested in long hot baths or cold crisp glasses of wine (I haven't had a glass of wine in two weeks, I seem to have gone off it at the moment, try not to be to shocked, this is a temporary situation I'm sure.

So since I am sitting at home on this beautiful day, not doing much but watching tv and reading, (in between sleeping) I thought I'd post some photos of our trip to Wales with John last week.

On Wednesday we visited Conwy, with its beautiful castle and walls that surround the town:

They don't exactly look like knights, but they are all mine ;)

The smallest house in Britain (It costs a £1 to enter, John wasn't sure if somene really lived there)

We also stopped in at Llandudno, my other favourite Welsh town, home of the Great Orm, a little mountain we have climbed more than once....

Next time we go back to Llandudno, I'm hiking around the mountain - this road is amazing.

On Thursday we did Snowdonia, which was breathtaking, no pun intended. (I will post the photos over the weekend, as we have a number of fantastic shots).

John can't believe how gorgeous Wales is and said he would never have even gone to this little British gem if we hadn't taken him; a lot of people don't realize that Wales is a country separate from England and has an astounding beauty that must not be overlooked.

Canada Day BBQ 2011

2011-07-05T23:08:00.002+01:00

Saturday was beautiful and sunny, without the high winds that can often blow throughout our area. Andy was up early putting the finishing touches on our garden, and whilst he and our great friends, Dawn and Robert were setting up the tent and putting out the chairs, John and I nipped to town for a few last minutes bits.

We had a fantastic turnout and all went off without a hitch despite a few of our friends showing up a few hours earlier than expected And on into the wee hours of Sunday morning it continued. Oh, and my brother was a big hit, naturally.

I have had some of my best Canada Day celebrations since moving to England... go figure eh?

Here are just a few of my favourite photos from our Canada Day in England, 2011:

Dawn and John

Dave, Abby and Tasha (with Sarah playing Jenga in the background :)

Me and my baby brother

Beautiful Madelana

Competitive Andy R

Zoe, Tasha and Wendy

Me and the Gallivan Girls:

Around the Fire Pit

Tasha and Andy:

Jayne, Dee and Me ;)

Den and his sausage :)

Roasting sausages on the fire pit always goes down well...

This is a cool one of Rodders

It was an awesome tribute to my country and I love how my English family and friends love to come together each year to help me celebrate the country I may have left behind physically, but is always in my heart...

Jupiter's Cock

2011-06-29T16:17:00.000+01:00

Most of you know that when we have family or friends visiting us here in England we love to take them touring around, showing them some of our favourite places.

On Friday I will be taking John to see Lincoln, a city that has yet to leave any of my guests unimpressed. It’s not a big city, but it’s big on personality and history as well as breathtaking beauty. Being from a small city myself gives me an appreciation for such places.

We also like to throw a party or two, and as previously mentioned. I love the fact that the biggest party we throw each year for Canada Day will be attended by my brother. I had debated making this year’s party a themed party; a gladiator theme to be exact. (Not to be confused with a toga party.) I discussed the idea with a few friends and although a few were keen I decided to forgo it as not everyone likes to dress in costume. So Saturday will be the usual Canadian theme minus the Canadian Beer (I wasn’t willing to pay £48 for a case of 24 Moosehead.) Can’t blame me for that eh?

Besides, I should probably save the Gladiator Theme for a night when my in-laws aren’t going to be around, or Tasha. Andy’s daughter (as most daughters) is uncomfortable at the thought of her parents as sexy beings. And I can’t promise that if I saw my hubby in a Gladiator skirt, walking around our garden with those long legs of his bared, I would be able to stop myself from jumping on him then and there. (After Andy reads this he will probably turn up dressed like a Gladiator on Friday in the hopes that I will do just that… a man can dream eh?)

Ironically, I had taped a series called Spartacus Blood and Sand a few months back. I hadn’t watched it yet and it turned out that John was up for watching it with me. Initially neither of us were sure about the graphic scenes that mimicked a gory video game, nor the acting ability. However by the third show, we were both gripped. We finished the series on Monday night, watching four shows into the early hours of the morning. It was a very dark, sexy program that sometimes even had us laughing out loud. A common phrase used was ‘Jupiter’s cock’, used in the way we would say Judas Priest, or holy shit. John thought they were using the term incorrectly as he was sure the god Jupiter was a woman. Obiously not! I did laugh every time they said it though, and have to refrain from saying it myself; at least at work. Besides, it’s an inside joke between my brother and I that other people probably wouldn’t understand.

So, back to the reason behind this post… when we have company, we love to show our guests a great time, visiting scenic places and enjoying pub lunches; however one of the best things about having my siblings with me are the moments when we kick back on the couch and watch old movies, or a whole series of a program over the span of a few nights. It’s definitely one thing we all have in common and I love nothing better than those nights where we pass the time lost in a show, but sat there together.

Keep the good times rolling

2011-06-28T23:08:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a roasting hot day here in the north east of England… Driving home yesterday the temperature was at 30 degrees. I don’t remember the last time it was that hot here. And the humidity was crazy; the kind of humidity where you just know a thunder storm will follow. And follow it has. Today at work we watched lightening, heavy rains and even hail crash down outside; the thunder was louder than I have heard in a long, long time. I rang home today to make sure Molly was alright. I knew John would have his hands full keeping my little pup calm. Like fireworks, she abhors thunder. It frightens the heck out of her.

Of course she was alright with her new best friend. Since my brother has arrived he has taken great joy in walking her every day. He even took her for a walk after everyone had eaten at Tasha’s 21st Birthday BBQ on Saturday.

It’s not just Molly that is enjoying having John to stay; we all are. I’ve been seeing Connor more than usual as a result; Most of my friends who have met John have taken a shine to him, and of course the family and he are getting along famously. But why wouldn’t they? They, as well as my brother are an easy going bunch. I was pleased that John got to see Alex for coffee on Saturday morning and is hoping to see him again before he leaves for Europe in a few weeks.

We have been keeping fairly busy and I’ve picked a few of my favourite pictures from the last ten days to share with you:

John and Connor on the London Eye:

At Cafe Rouge:

On Tower Bridge:

We celebrated Tasha's 21st Birthday on Saturday:

John and Archie riding the train Archie constructed:

Champagne and a hottub:

On Sunday John and I headed out to York...

it was a fantastic day:

It's recommended you do this with a friend...

2011-06-15T19:11:00.002+01:00

My friend Alison received a cook book for Mother’s Day; it’s not written by any of the well known chef’s like Nigella or Delia and it has a lot of non-typical recipes. One of them involved cooking sirloin of beef wrapped in a dishcloth in a fire pit. WTF? How is this supposed to work? Although as soon as she showed me the recipe, the same thing popped into my head that she had been thinking… we have a fire pit, and both Alison and our husband’s are big beef eaters, so we decided to give it a try.

Saturday night I picked Ali and Dave up (with a multitude of supplies and alcohol). Ali informed me that the recipe called for a lot of salt (both table and rock) which had me concerned as I don’t normally use very much salt at all, often never, even if a recipe calls for it. I told her not to worry about it as I had a few boxes of both on hand. I had no idea that we would need nearly one whole box of table salt and 1 ½ boxes of rock salt. But I’m digressing here… We got back to my house, cracked a few beers and set to following the recipe. I captured it in photos to share with you because I think you have to see it to believe it (sorry in advance to all my vegetarian readers).

The initial prep:

(The limes weren’t part of the recipe they were just garnish for the beer. The beef was the best you could buy, trust me on this, it was not cheap but we went splits.)

We had to use a lot of table salt to boil the dishcloth in for ten minutes. I believe this was key to the dishcloth not catching fire later. We then had to wait for the dishcloth to cool before completely coating it in table salt.

I could feel my arteries hardening just watching all that salt being poured…

We then covered the salt in plenty of roughly chopped garlic and a ton of fresh picked rosemary and thyme before rubbing the beef with pepper:

This is one big hunk of meat... (I think it was over a kilo):

It was time to cover the beef completely before wrapping it and tying it with string that had also been boiled in very salty water. (We also added a few safety pins just in case the rope burned – which some of it did!)

Then we just had to place it in the embers and let it cook for 15 minutes each side (we left it in for 20 minutes each side just to be on the safe side):

The discloth was mostly charred, but the beef was safe:

The result was absolutely amazing!

It was so tender and juicy, infused with the flavours of the herbs and garlic. Not one bit salty. It was cooked perfectly, medium rare in the middle, perfect for those who liked it that way, and the outer edges were medium well.

I missed the unwrapping of it as I was busy getting the grilled vegetables sorted, however it was easy to see (and taste) that it wasn’t infused with salt, as most of it was brushed off after it was unwrapped. Again, we believe that the truckload of salt is vital to the dishtowel not burning.

I don’t eat a lot of red meat so this was definitely a treat. Not only was the meat scrumptious, we had a fantastic time preparing it, and then eating it with grilled veg and fresh bread washed down with wine; later on, after eating by the fire, we chilled out in the hot tub.

Not bad for a Saturday night eh?

It might not be something you want do on a regular basis due to the cost, (and maybe the salt and beef overload) but we did agree that we will have to do it again before the summer is over.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

2011-06-13T15:57:00.001+01:00

I wish I could say that yesterday I set out to complete all that I had on my list of ‘things to do’. Although my only real plans had been to go on a long walk with Molly, make sure all the bedding was washed and hung out to dry, followed by the gym at tea time while Andy watched the Montreal Grand Pre. (I know, I have a rough life!) Well the rainfall put a stop to the bed linen getting sorted and it discouraged both Molly and myself from venturing out (my water loving lab abhors the rain… go figure). I’ve pulled a muscle in my hamstring so that put me off the gym (it doesn’t take much on some days). Excuses you might say? And I might agree in full. Eventually I might find some of the conviction that my sisters have; they are working so hard to ‘reinvent’ themselves and succeeding; I wish I could be the girl who doesn’t let any excuse get in the way of achieving all I set out to do. I often set out with the very best of intentions at the beginning of each week and sometimes I manage to do everything… and then some weeks I don’t.

Yesterday I could say I let myself down in a big way, yet I didn’t. I chose to snuggle in bed all day with Molly as I caught up on some TV, snoozed and had a long, hot bath all the while a steady rain was falling. Andy wasn’t up for much either, but he at least he got dressed and did some yard work in the morning.

Maybe this is one of the reasons I don’t become super stressed, am what a lot of people refer to as ‘laid-back’; many of my friends say they wish they could be as relaxed as me. I won’t lie, I know how to do ‘nothing’ well, but try not to do it too much. I also like keeping busy and I think the gym is great, I love nothing more than an awesome work out. Nothing makes me feel better… but sometimes a lazy Sunday afternoon in your pj’s is required, especially when you have a few busy weekends coming up. Molly didn’t seem to mind either, if the constant stream of snoring coming from her all afternoon was anything to go by.

BBQ's, beer (and nudity is not an option, sorry)

2011-06-10T13:25:00.000+01:00

Hugh Grant said it well in the opening lines of Love Actually: "Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow airport. General opinion makes out that we live in a world of hatred and greed - but I don't see that - seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there: fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, none of the phone calls from people on board were messages of hate or revenge; they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love, actually, is all around.”

This time next week, my brother will be landing in London and I will be waiting in Heathrow Airport for him to come through arrivals. This time next week, it will be a sister and a brother reuniting.

We are fortunate to have a lot of great moments from each year, even the few incredibly crappy years. Andy and I are strong enough to be able to remain smiling through some of the hard times; grey hairs and frown lines might be in abundance but boy do we know how to carry on through a bad situation. We are a great team that way, one of us often bolstering the other up when the need is required. Despite the crappy times, and let's face it, who goes through life without sh*t hitting the fan occasionally, we have a great life; We just wipe the sh*t off and carry on. We are unlucky enough to be surrounded by his children, and his family; we have lovely friends and the most awesome dog in the world (we do, it’s true). We are comfortable enough to be able to travel and although we don’t have all that we want in life, we have enough.

Aside from my first year living here, at least one member of my family (including extended) has come to visit each year. Some years have brought more than just a solo traveller. I don’t think any trip I take gives me more excitement than the morning I stand in the airport waiting for my loved one to come through arrivals. That first hug feels better than almost anything.

We have a number of events on the agenda during my brother’s stay (between the sight seeing trips). Almost every Saturday is going to be taken up with BBQ’s, as Andy’s daughter Tasha has decided to have her 21st birthday at our house. When it comes to Tash, we have definitely come full circle and are so thrilled she has chosen to come to ours for the party that will launch her into world-wide legality. I think Ursala (the hot tub) just might being playing a small role in this ;) Either way it should be a great night. I don’t think my brother will complain too much about having a group of young folk in their early 20's in the house. There has to be some balance as most of my friends are in their 40’s.

Of course we will be throwing our annual Canada BBQ on the 2nd. I love nothing more than when I have another Candadian on site. Mom and John are already helping me out with the party planning and this year I will actually have a bit more Canadian themed party supplies. Now if there was only a way I could order a big stash of Canadian Beer like Alexander Keith’s (Lite). Hmmm I would even settle for Molson Canadian. Apparently there are a number of fellow Canucks that have moved into town to teach at Connor’s school. I wonder what they will be up to on our nation’s birthday? I don’t think I will send out the banners to them though, as I seem to have enough people invited and my ~~conservative~~ gorgeous husband had a hard enough time getting his head around the fact I agreed to a colleague pitching a tent in the back yard. (Although I must say, if you're willing to host your daughter's 21st, I think you should be up for anything). I think it’s shaping up to be one of our best yet.

Like my mom reiterated during one of our phone calls: it’s the one night of the year I like to celebrate and really get my party on (not her words exactly, but you get the gist I’m sure.) I’ve learned to be a ~~mature~~ adult for all other fun occasions like birthdays and Christmas; Besides, my older and much more mature friends love the opportunity to let their hair down at our annual BBQ as well. It’s not just me and Connor that love a dance around the fire pit.

Here are a few pictures from previous years (I noticed from looking back over my blog for pictures, that the words ‘get our party on’ resounds quite frequently):

July 2007 - we had Longbottom (aka Dawn M) with us that summer:

Last year, July 2010:

Giving the kids a little fun!

I'm not sure what direction this year's party will go in; let's just hope everyone leaves their clothes on!

Get me off this bumpy ride...

2011-06-08T13:07:00.000+01:00

It seems that my emotions have been scattered in every direction this last week; they are all over the place which in itself is making me moody and I’m not really someone I like to be in the company of. The problem is, I can’t get away from myself. It’s a shame I can’t develop a drug that could achieve this. Wait a moment, that’s already been done; I’m just not willing to develop an addiction for Heroin. I’m sure most of the mood swings can be attributed to the fact that I had my period last week (yes I just said that, propriety is not high on my agenda at the moment) or perhaps because there has been an awful lot of unrest in the house due to various situations with the kids.

Either way, I’m up and down, and every which way mood wise and I have decided to share my various feelings with you and the reasons why I think I might be experiencing them. Tons of fun for you, I’m sure, but here I go just the same:

Melancholy: because the beautiful, listed Inn that Andy and I got married in burnt down on Saturday. Luckily no one was hurt, but it’s such an awful feeling and I know I’m not the only past bride/guest feeling this way. It’s a good thing I don’t believe in bad omens.

Despondent: Work is piling up and my get up and go is so gone. Because I’m feeling the way I have been, I seem to have no drive and lack the motivation to do anything. Not good at all, especially when I look at the huge pile of work that needs to be done and all my procrastinating is doing nothing to speed the process up.

Annoyed: because blogger won’t let me comment on any of your blogs that require word verification. Trying to be supportive is hard when you lose your ability to comment.

Enthralled: because of a program that has captivated me from the beginning, Game of Thrones. I can’t believe it’s not a movie or mini-series that hasn’t come to an end yet. Better yet, it’s a program that Andy and I both love, a rare event in itself. If you haven’t checked it out, I suggest you give it a go.

Aggrivated: My head seems to constantly hurt and I think this could be due in part to the excess of caffeine I have been ingesting. I know copious amounts of this drug are bad for me but at the minute I don’t seem to care. I’ve just always been proud of how I’m not addicted to caffeine and I don’t want this to change. I don’t know why I even started drinking the stuff after 37 years of avoidance.

Disappointed: this is because I haven’t been going to the gym nearly enough. When I don’t go to the gym I feel worse, both physically and emotionally. I reckon my headaches will improve when I get myself back to the gym. Which I plan on doing tonight, enough excuses already. If I’m going to continue eating the way I have been, I need to move a lot more or else I won’t fit into my jeans. And then I will be even more moody, something that really doesn’t need to happen.

Expectant: I’m thrilled my brother is coming next Friday morning and I think that he is going to be the tonic this family needs. I’m not going to let the stress that has been affecting us all this last month and a half put a negative spin on the trip my brother has spent the last two years saving up for. Next Friday morning can’t come soon enough.

Proud: because the youngest of our family, Connor is 15 today and I’m so impressed by how laid-back and downright amusing our young man is. I hope he has a brilliant day and that he continues to remain the ray of sunshine he has always been.

It would seem the more ‘negative’ emotions are outnumbering the more light hearted feelings; I am putting a lot of stock in the fact that after I force myself back to the gym today I should start feeling more optimistic. I usually do after I’ve burned a few hundred calories.

I wanna go far away...

2011-06-02T15:51:00.000+01:00

With everything that has been happening at home I don’t know who is spending more time thinking of a holiday somewhere hot and warm, Andy or me.

Myrtos Beach - Kefalonia

I was perusing cheap holidays yesterday on the internet when Andy emailed me wondering if I was interested in going back to Kefalonia in September.

We are so often on the same page with each other you would think we write with the same pen.

Of course I would love to head out to Kefalonia in September. It’s one of our favourite Greek Islands. We know the location, we love the accommodation and it’s very comfortable. I don’t even want to think about the food or I will be drooling all over my keyboard.

Garbis Villas - where we love to stay...

There is a part of me though, that wants to try somewhere new, maybe add another country to the checklist on my map. However I don’t know if this is the year to do that or not due to time, expense, etc. I like the fact that I don’t have to use up a huge chunk of my leave on travelling, even if it means I won’t get home again this year. It’s nice to have the time to just take a day here and there when required.

As I might have mentioned more than once, my brother is coming and that will be like a holiday in itself. We could definitely incorporate a mini trip in with him as I know he is thinking of heading to Ireland this summer before heading off to Europe. I love the thought of exploring the Irish countryside as we’ve only ever visited once, and that was only Dublin for a few days (not nearly long enough). Andy and I had also been toying with the idea of visiting our friends in Italy… Italy is expensive though and I’m not sure if we can fit it into our budget this year.

We have a decision to make though and it’s a tricky one because we’d decided when we agreed to buy a hot tub that we wouldn’t need a holiday this year; this was before the teenager that used to live with us turned our hair a lighter shade of grey.

We have already determined that we will take some time off to explore the UK with John, but I also think a little beach break might be in order. We are mentally exhausted and quite frankly want to get away. If we do go in September it gives us something to look forward to, if nothing else.

In all seriousness, I would board a plane tomorrow for a week if we could find the right deal.

What I am focusing on though, is that John will be with us in just over two weeks. It will awesome to have him here, for him to meet my friends, Molly and the rest of the family. To show him this beautiful country and know that because we live here he had the added incentive to plan his tour of Europe. It’s been a long time coming, but finally, my baby brother is coming to the UK. Oh yeah!

Malham Cove

2011-05-30T15:20:00.000+01:00

Yesterday we got up early, picked up Connor and headed out for a walk in the bottom of the Yorkshire Dales with our friends Robert, Dawn and their son Cameron. It was chucking it down with rain when we first arrived and since we weren't really dressed for roughing it, (me especially, I only had two warm up jackets on over a few layers, no rain gear at all... silly girl) we waited to see if the weather would change. The dogs were raring to go regardless of the weather. Luckily the weather turned within 20 minutes and despite high winds we decided to go for it.

We had our picnic when we reached the mountain top (accessed by about 200 stairs cut into the side of the cliff). Dawn did us proud with her home made Texas Corn Bread and Fidgit Pie. Andy didn't get his camera out until we were about half way through the walk but the pictures he did get were amazing; I would do this breath-taking hike again in a heart-beat.

The boys, heading into the Gordale Scar:

Me & Dawn

Cameron, Connor, Me and Dawn

Gordale Scar (much more impressive in reality):

Connor under the lower falls; it was a major task to get that far believe it or not!

Taking a coffee break:

Me and Dawn:

And because I love this one so much,

Me and Dawn again (this was up by Gordale Scar):

Can't wait for the next hike!

Fortuitous

2011-05-27T11:26:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was again a fairly busy day at work; rather than being out front I was in one of the offices out back when my colleague walked in with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a vase, full of fuchsia Gerbera’s (my absolute favourite) roses, carnations and greenery. She asked if there was a reason I might be getting a bunch of flowers. I thought about it and figured that they might be from my husband (most of you know what a brilliant giver of flowers my husband is). However I opened the card and read the words ‘Because you’re worth it’ signed from my boss (who happens to be a great friend as well). I almost made a fool of myself and cried (sadly, I’ve been turned into a bit of cry baby lately. Ok, ok... I lie, I’ve always been a bit of a cry baby when the situation calls for it.) Needless to say it’s been a tough few weeks and this made my week so much brighter

As I was looking at the flowers I looked down at my wrist to see the beautiful silver (and not in-expensive) bracelet from Links of London that was given to me last Friday by my very dear friend; she said it was because I’ve been such a supportive and true friend over the last few years that she wanted to treat me (she’s recently come into some money). I was floored by this complete and utter act of generosity and kindness on her behalf. Two gifts in less than a week… I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it but boy do I seem to have people fooled. I has however re-affirmed that I can’t be as bad as one young man is trying to make me out to be. Not that I need validation, not at all. I know that boy has had it good in my house (as does he, and w hen he stops being so pissed off and consumed with self pity, he might just remember… it’s not like we beat him every Tuesday and fed him raw liver and kidneys – we only did that for one year people ;)

I have been so lucky over the years to have met and been loved so many amazing people. Like my mother, I never had problems making friends, and most of them have stayed in my life over the years. I worried when I had to leave them all behind when I moved over here, but my worries were unfounded. I have retained my friendships from back home, and I have met even more friends since I’ve lived here… true friends, those that I can count on to be there when I need them, especially when I need a laugh or a big drink (real friends don’t let you drink alone.) Because I have no family of my own over here (Andy’s are great of course) some of my closest friends have filled that role. They too, know that I would be there for them in a heartbeat if they called. Give and take, that’s what relationships are meant to be. You know your friends are like family when you can turn up at their door at 1 am, dog in tow, manic and half-crazed and they don’t slam the door in fear of the nutter outside.

When I think about all the relationships I have formed over the last twenty years, and more recently the last seven, I can’t help but feel lucky. Some people only form one or two close friendships in their lifetime. I have surpassed this by the dozen. Seriously; and that’s not counting all the brilliant people I’ve met through cyberspace, who are out there supporting each other every day; often making us laugh with their amusing prose.

As previously mentioned, I can thank my mom for this because she has passed on so much to me, (not just my damn overbite). I’ve often been told how like my mom I am, how like the Antle girls (whom are now all well over 50 and also all ~~blessed~~ cursed with the same jaw) I am… not just in looks but in many other ways. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, even with the imperfect teeth and freckles.

Angry All The Time...

2011-05-25T13:32:00.002+01:00

I’ve been away for awhile and have pretty much abandoned the 30 Day Challenge. I’m sorry for this as I was enjoying it, but life just has a habit of getting in the way of my fun. And life hasn’t been fun these last few weeks at Casa Del McAllenby, despite the fact that we are now the owners of a hot tub (the timing couldn’t have been better- what a great stress buster!)

Let me give you a summary of what’s been going on in my world:

An angry teenager and an fed up 44 year old man lashing out at each other; said angry teenager taking too many liberties and pushing it too far; maybe it’s his pride, more likely his anger but things have reached a point where going back and building bridges is going to take more work than any of us is willing to contemplate right now. At this stage I think the 2012 Olympic prep will be sorted before we all are.

All of the above has shown me that although ‘I’ve done my very best, and have always tried to be fair, it means jack shit at the end of the day. I’ve also realized that my mum and mum-in-law have been right all along… although children bring you much joy, the heartache they bring is tenfold; No breakup with a friend or man has ever caused me this much strife. You could kick my teeth out and it wouldn’t hurt as much. I’ve known a lot of teenagers in my time, hell I’ve been one, but I have never seen this kind before. And I’m done trying to reason, it’s exhausting. Both his dad and are just plain tired. So the doors have been closed (by mutual agreement) and only time will tell what happens next.

All of that craziness aside, work has been manic and Molly hasn’t been well; she came down with some skin ailment that had her scratching so much she had a bald patch. Luckily medication has seemingly rectified the situation.

I’ve managed to keep up with all of my favourite blogs though, even if I don’t always comment; it’s a welcome distraction to read about other families that aren’t full to the brim with dysfunction; and for those of you who have your various struggles, its often soothing to know we aren’t alone.

In terms of the gym, I have been doing ok although I’ve been avoiding the treadmill … however after the stunt aforementioned teen pulled yesterday, a run last night was just the therapy I needed. There’s nothing like a good dose of frustration to get me running on the treadmill after months of avoiding it.

I'm taking back my life today and I'm going to have some fun if it kills me. I don't know if many of you know this, but in less than a month my only brother is coming to stay for awhile and that is what I'm going to focus on. No more gloomy posts, I promise.

I Followed Her Around

2011-05-10T12:06:00.001+01:00

I hope Mom's and mother-figures all over America and Canada had a great Mother's Day on Sunday full of love, laughter and joy; I know for each of you it was different in your own way.

As most of you who follow me probably realize, Mother's Day in the UK was in April this year.

After a lot of thought, I've finally decided to tell you how my Mother's Day went down. It was 8:30 in the morning and Molly started growling, which is unusual so I got up to see who might be outside and saw two police officers about to knock on our door.

Immediately I knew it was going to be about Alex (even a step-mother can sense these things, especially when it hasn't been an easy year) and was immediately relieved to see his car parked on the drive; he was at least home safe. What was to follow was not going to leave me breathing so easily and would have me reaching for the wine by lunchtime - yes you read that correctly but in my defence I was at lunch with a friend.) Alex hasn't done anything to get in trouble with the law, please don't think we are raising a delinquent. Alex has been making some poor choices lately and one of them primarily involves a silly girl. She is the one who sent the police to our house, and has made countless accusations against him to all their friends, and finally to the police. Because of her (and yes, his bad judgement with the ladies) I had a less than desirable Mother's Day. I know I'm not Alex's natural mother, but hey... give me a break here. I don't think anyone would want to wake up to the police at 8:30 am on Mothering Sunday. Breakfast in bed served with Buck's Fizz would have been much more preferable; hell, having my hair pulled out of my head strand by strand would have pained me less. The first six month's of my life in this country was spent dealing with the police constantly knocking at my door due to Andy's ex making (proven) false allegations about him. A period in our life that we would like to forget, not be reminded of.

Andy's ex wasn't a mixed up teenage girl which probably makes it worse (depending on your perspective), and has certainly never apologised; apologies aside, it is still not excusable behaviour to make up lies about a young man and try to ruin his reputation and everything he is working to achieve. Alex has taken this girl back into his life, despite a number of other issues that should have him running a mile (however I won't talk about that due to his privacy) and he cannot understand why I'm so disappointed by it all and won't accept the girl in my life, never mind my home (which I had been doing, up until the week prior to Mother's Day, despite my concerns about her behaviour.) I thought our boy was so much smarter but as they say, love is blind. I prefer moronic.

I've told him to give me time, that if it works out between them and they make it through the next few months without any drama then I might start to see that she is changing and perhaps we can start from there. But that is all I'm willing, or able to give and I don't think that is unfair. He however is not in agreement.

I normally try to stay away from posting about family issues, however as I keep saying to Alex, this isn't just about him anymore. That changed the day his girlfriend sent the police to our home. This page is mine to talk about the issues that I'm going through that I might want to get off my chest. It's my form of therapy because as much as I'm tempted to, I can't always turn to wine; I would be constantly sloshed these days and what kind of example would that set? I won't be pressured and manipulated into accepting someone who I am not ready to - and I won't hear talk about how I'm not being a mother to him because I won't immediately forgive and accept the girl he has chosen.. No way; one day when he has a child of his own, I'm sure he will see it differently. Or perhaps he won't - he might be a very different kind of parent. But I doubt it. Most of us thought our parents were full of crap when we were 18 years old.

However I always listened to one thing my mom said: Do not waste your time wanting someone who doesn't want you, or doesn't respect you, because I am better than that. My mom was right. I did deserve better and I didn't settle for less. That at least, was one piece of mom's advice that managed to sink in. I really hope that someday Alex feels the same way.

I read another blog regularly, written by a woman whose opinions I really respect and admire. She has such a way with words and can combine wit and humour effortlessly when discussing something seriously. JennyMac really nailed it when she talked about the relationship between parent and child on her Mother's Day post over at Let's Have a Cocktail; (Is it ironic how a number of us bloggers give reference to alcoholic beverages in our blog titles?) I will be curious to see how her writing changes as her pre-schooler grows into a teen...

Day 27: A picture of where you're from.

2011-05-05T17:54:00.000+01:00

Beautiful Halifax, Nova Scotia

Day Twenty-Six: A Picture From One Of The Greatest Days Of Your Life

2011-05-03T21:56:00.001+01:00

This photo was taken by one of my (many) dear friends just prior to 4 pm on a beautiful day.

I always thought I would elope but when I moved across the ocean I knew that the only way I wanted to marry Andy was surrounded by those pictured with me (and the 72 other family and friends not in the photo). I love how Stacy's arm is in sync with mine, even though you can't really see her). There were at least four more of my friends in the room at that particular time. I loved that moment in my life and this unexpected photo Roisin took.

I loved that day, even if it is stereotypical.

Day 25: One of Your Most Prized Possessions

2011-05-03T15:57:00.001+01:00

Sometimes I wonder if Andy and I were always meant to be together. When he talks about life in his early 20's, a time when he was running a pub in Lincoln with hopes and dreams of working his way up to one day actually owning his own pub, whilst discovering he had a baby on the way with his then partner, I often smile and think that we really were worlds apart. While he was already living quite an experienced and adult life in England, I was still only a teenager living in Nova Scotia, trying to figure out what courses to take for my last year in school, babysitting for my family and the multitude of neighbourhood kids. Oh, and of course I can't forget partying whenever I could (which probably contributed to my choosing the the incorrect courses - I should have taken general math but that is a whole other story for another day... or perhaps not, let's just say math and I were not friends and leave it at that.)

So... let me get back on track: I never would have thought our two worlds would collide and nearly 10 years on, that I would be here in England, married to this man who had such a different life than me.

Andy and I met in January of 2002 and became friends first before realizing we had a real attraction for each other. The story of how we got together isn't an easy one. I don't think either one of us was looking for the great love of our lives. I know I sure wasn't - I had just finished a long-term relationship and the thought of entering another was not top of my list of priorities. Andy's timing certainly wasn't the greatest either but I guess fate had other ideas. By that August we were both heavily immersed with each other and neither one of us was looking forward to the day in September when his contract was due to finish. Andy took me out one day in late summer and bought me a beautiful sapphire ring. It wasn't hugely expensive but he wanted to leave me with something that proved how much he cared about me and the time we had spent together. I accepted the ring (rightly or wrongly) and told him that if he made the decision to never come back I would understand - long distance is hard, especially when there are children involved. A few weeks later he rang me to tell me he wasn't ready to let it end and that he would be coming to see me as soon as possible. I cried with a multitude of joy and fear for what the future would bring.

A few months later I was working out at the gym downtown and upon getting home (1/2 hour away) I discovered I had left my ring on a machine at the gym. I was mortified at this and rang the gym immediately with absolutely no luck; it hadn't been turned in. After talking to my friend who'd been working out with me, we decided to take a drive back in and look for it ourselves, just in case (without much hope.) Andy happened to call just before I left the house and I was in such a state he'd thought someone had died. He laughed when I was able to relay what had happened and commented that it was just a ring, he could always get me another. That wasn't the point. I wanted my ring... it meant too much to just dismiss.

My friend and I got into the city and practically ran through the shopping centre to the gym where the smiling girl behind the reception desk put me out of my misery straight away by producing the ring. Someone had turned it in earlier, however she hadn't looked in the right place when I had called. She'd found it when we were on the way in. I could have kissed her through my tears of disbelief.

I still wear my sapphire on the ring finger of my left hand. Although we were married two years later, I hardly ever wear my wedding ring as both of them together give me a rash. I could wear it on my other hand but it's always been on my left hand and so I chose to keep it there. My wedding ring is important to me, but the sapphire means so much more. My husband understands this completely and is ok with the fact that I chose to wear it over the wedding ring (which I do wear on vacations and special occasions). I love him for this... for the fact that he gets me and the reasons why I make some of the choices I do (well most of the time ;)

I have another possession that means the world to me, but one story is enough :)

Day 24: Something Embarrassing in Your Room

2011-04-30T18:01:00.001+01:00

Well. First of all let me apologize for being so absolutely rubbish at this challenge. It was supposed to be done in 30 days, give or take 2 or 3 yet here I am well over month since day one and I still haven't finished. Do you care? Perhaps not. Perhaps you find this boring and wish I would get back to the regularly scheduled program that is my life. But then again, I don't think all six of my readers find my life any more captivating than the truths that are being revealed on this challenge. But who knows? I don't. The only certainties I have in my life is that I'm going to enjoy a glass of wine tonight and that my dog adores me. Somebody has to ;)

So.... back to something emarrassing in my room:

I have a bedside table in my room that looks pretty crappy due to the fact I put a glass of water on it every night without a coaster. Because of this bad behaviour the paint has chipped off the inexpensive wood and it thoroughly needs a paint job; Or throwing in the bin. I try to cover it up with books whenever I know a visitor will be in my room... but since the only visitors to my room are usually friends or sisters who come up to try on clothes or practice hair-styles I try not to let it bother me too much. Besides they too are usually so full of wine that they wouldn't notice anyway. The only othe person who ventures into my room is my sister-in-law when she wants to give me the baby, or have a shower in our ensuite, and frankly she is so tired I don't think she'd notice if there was a hairy gorilla stood in the corner.

Now my husband thinks I was going to blog about the suitcase full of 'toys' under my bed, but sorry I'm a 38 year old married woman who likes her playthings. I think the only one who'd need to be embarrassed about finding them is the one who is snooping where they shouldn't be.

Day 23: Favourite Video

2011-04-26T18:06:00.000+01:00

I don't really watch a lot of videos but I do love the video for Love The Way You Lie by Eminen and Rhianna.

Day 22: A picture of me on this day

2011-04-21T09:38:00.000+01:00

Sorry I've been remiss in this challenge. I had intended to use a picture of myself from the brilliant 13 mile hike in the Peak District we did on Sunday. However I was too tired when we got back home to post. I can only sum up my lack of motivation over the last days as just that: lack of motivation. Nothing else.

So here you have it, a photo of me on this day. I'm at work and took a minute to try and get a quick shot on my smart phone. It's not of my face because sadly, my face isn't up to having a good picture taken today.

Day 21: Favourite Movie Quote

2011-04-15T15:50:00.001+01:00

I don't particularly have any stand out quotes that I remember from certain movies. Of course there are a few quotes that I immediately recognize upon hearing like 'I'll Be Back' and 'I See You'.

However one quote that I do love comes from one of my favourite movies: 'I have a degree in ass wiggling mate'. The film is The Full Monty.

Thinking about this quote made me remember a funny story, one that I will share with you. I apologise to those of you who've heard it before or might not find it as amusing as I do.

One of the pictures I’ve posted below is from my cousin Nancy’s wedding. I was 18 and I loved a good time, perhaps too much, but that is another story. I really enjoyed myself at Nancy’s wedding and can remember dancing the night away with my cousins and sisters. I remember going home that night with my cousins Wayne and Glen (who came down from St. John’s for the event) and how we stopped and got Chinese, eating it ravenously in Wayne’s truck, like we hadn’t just had a big dinner earlier that night.

I don’t often get to see my cousin’s who live in St. John’s and weddings have always been a great way to see the newfie contingent. They might not all come to the same weddings, but you can guarantee my Aunt Nita will be at every wedding and at least one or two of her children.

The first summer that I went home after being in the UK found me down at my cousin Sharon’s. She had called me to say that her sister Nancy and Nancy’s husband Wayne (not the one I drove home from the wedding with) decided to watch their wedding video as it was their anniversary and they all thought I should come over as they had something to show me that I might find amusing. They skipped over much of the wedding itself to the reception. We did of course stop and watch a few moments of my Nan talking to the cameraman and whoever was behind the scenes. It brought tears to my eyes to see my Nan alive and talking and we all had a few moments of reminiscing over our Nan.

They moved on to the video of the party. This is where I'm not sure if my reaction was more shocked, pleased or mortified; the guy they hired to video their wedding reception spent more time videoing my wriggling arse as I danced, than anything else. And from the look of me I didn't seem bashful about this at all, seemingly trying to feign ignorance of the man behind me with a video camera when it was blatantly apparent I knew exactly what he was doing. Thankfully Nancy and her husband have a sense of humour and could see the amusing side of it. Although I’m sure it’s not what they had in mind when they hired a videographer to film the most momentous day of their lives…

I was also amused to see my youngest sister cropping up all over the video, her 8 year old self trying to grab the camera’s attention wherever she could. It wasn’t a surprise that she was with my cousin Nancy (not the bride; obviously some members of our family have trouble choosing unique names) who has never been introverted, however I had always remembered Stacy being shy. This particular video sure put that myth to bed… (Seems it was a glimpse into the confident young woman she has grown into… not shy, just quiet, that is until you know her.)

Tawny posted a picture of herself with Nanny from that long ago wedding on her 30 Day Challenge; it seems like most of us have good memories from that particular wedding. But then again I have to honestly say I’ve enjoyed most of the family weddings I’ve been to. I love being surrounded by my big extended and sometimes completely nutty, family.

Day 20: A 10+ Year Old Photo of Me

2011-04-14T21:51:00.000+01:00

When I was last home in February I decided it was time enough to go through some old photos and bring a few back to the UK with me. I wanted to find some pictures of me that proved I used to be much heavier, off and on, throughout my 20's. I was also hoping to find an old album of mine with photos of me and my siblings from much younger days but I have no idea what I've done with it. It wasn't with all my other albums, which has me a little worried. I'm sure I will find it the next time I go home: fingers crossed at least... There are a few pictures out of that album I wanted, in particular one of me and Stacy when I was 14 and she wasn't quite two. We are sledding in the back yard and I love it.

However I did manage to bring back a few of my favourites.

So tonight I've poured myself a glass of wine, turned on some music and am taking a walk down memory lane.

I've chosen this picture first because I only spoke with Cat yesterday and am feeling nostalgic for her.

This picture was taken in Newark Airport after about 5 shots of tequila (each). I was 23 and Catherine was 22 and boy were we about to embark on an adventure:

My brother John, Tawny and Me (fat face :) I think I was 24 here...

Dawn, Me & Tawny (Maybe I was 22 here?)

My cousin Denise and I at another cousin's wedding. I was only 18 and so proud of my hair.

The picture quality isn't very good as it's a picture of a picture but you get the idea I'm sure.

I don't have a picture that's 10+ old of me and Andy because we have just reached our 9th year together. I know it won't seem like any time though and another ten years will have passed. We have so many pictures already from our life together and I can't wait to take a thousand more...

Number 19: Something that made me smile today

2011-04-13T15:29:00.002+01:00

My mom has never really shown much interest in the computer, or more importantly the internet.

In recent years she learned how to use the internet to access the local newspapers or check the status of library books. Other than that, Mom said she wasn’t interested in much else.

When I was home in February I finally convinced her to let me set up an email account. I walked her through the steps and she sat down to compose her first email with me there beside her. She was painfully slow with typing but I encouraged her to not let it be a deterrent, in time she would get the hang of it.

And get the hang of it she has. I receive an email from my mom at least three times a week, if not more. I always try and take the time to write something back, after all I can type miles faster than my mom and she deserves a response after taking the time to compose such thoughtful emails. I know that it isn’t just me she is emailing either, she sends messages to all of her children, even the ones that live in the same house with her; each one composed individually.

Mom’s subject lines are usually one liner’s that simply say ‘love’ or ‘miss you’. Most people, myself included, rarely put something in the subject line, never mind something so kind-hearted or sweet.

Whenever I receive an email from my mom (like today, subject line: best aunty) I can’t help but smile. I know it makes my siblings smile too – how can it not?

Day 18: Favourite Board Game

2011-04-11T14:26:00.000+01:00

I come from a family that grew up playing games. Many a Saturday night found us playing the Game of Life, and because I have such fond memories of this evening when we all gathered to laugh and spin the wheel of life, I had to purchase my own edition when I moved to England.

However my all time favourite board game is:

It's probably for sentimental reasons that this is my favourite game, as it makes me think of my sisters. When we play together we are unbeatable. My husband shakes his head in amazement at just how good we are, especially when we are on the same team. My sister's husband says doesn't like playing it with us because we play it wrong, but we don't. We are not cheaters at board games (unlike my husband's family who also love board games :) It is because we know each other so well we can make each other guess the answer much easier than people who don't know each other so well.

Top 2 on my list of favourite board games:

The little characters are almost as fun as the game...

Andy's family love to play games too which makes get together's at ours even more enjoyable.

Day 17: A Childhood Photo

2011-04-08T11:32:00.000+01:00

I don't have any childhood photos with me in England and had to 'borrow' from my sister as luckily the photos she posted on her challenge include me :)

This is a picture of me and my little sister in my aunty's bathtub.

No trouble to tell which one of us was fed on Carnation Milk eh?

I still have the shoulders and arms of a linebacker.