The Work House

My plan over the last few weeks has been to do a post about the fantastic holiday we took back to Nova Scotia, and I will get there by the end of this week, I swear.

In the meantime, I have this to post:

As most of you are probably aware, I'm now working full-time in one of the psychology units for the hospital. I'm based out of a centre that is near the town centre, but a couple of days a week I can be found at the hospital site, in one of the out buildings.

When I first started this job I was really impressed with the hospital site as the building was in much better repair than that of the WM Centre where I am usually based. The Consultancy is based in a very old building, with a lot of character, and has obviously been re-decorated and modernised over the years. The WMC is in a 70's style building and hasn't had a face-lift ever, from the looks of it; even the paint in the main stairwell is all chipped and peeling. However there are various perks at each place, and one of the perks at the consultancy, is the more cosy, modern offices.

Often when I'm at the consultancy I'm left to either open or close up, which includes setting the alarm, a task I don't mind doing. However there have been a few evenings when I've been here on my own that something just feels a bit creepy and I sometimes hear doors opening a closing even though I know I'm here on my own. It doesn't take me long to pack up at these times, let me tell you. The other night I was closing up and had just set the alarm to the door that leads to the consulting area when I heard someone shriek. I quickly dropped my bags and began to open the door to turn off the alarm as I thought someone was being locked in (as has previously happened once in the past), however that wasn't the case - no one was in the building. I just shrugged my shoulders, reset the code and left.

Today, whilst chatting to my colleagues about the car parking changes being made to West Arch, where we park, I was told that the building we work in used to be the old work-house, and the arch-way underneath our building that allows cars to pass through, used to be the archway that the deceased were carried through on their way to the cemetery (which is across the street). Probably explains a lot of the eeriness and weird noises that are constantly heard. How my boss manages to work till seven or eight pm on her own in the building is beyond me.

For those of you who might not know what a workhouse was, here is an excerpt I found on the Internet:

By the 1850s, the majority of those forced into the workhouse were not the work-shy, but the old, the infirm, the orphaned, unmarried mothers, and the physically or mentally ill. Entering its harsh regime and spartan conditions was considered the ultimate degradation.

Meeting the lovely Madalena



Last Sunday Andy and I took a short trip to Hull to meet Paul and Sophia's beautiful new edition to the family: Madalena


It was lovely to spend a few hours on the patio of a coffee house catching up with our friends, but better yet, cuddling with the perfectly beautiful and snuggly Madalena.

You couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

Proud Daddy

We are looking forward to spending some proper time with this little family in September, after all the holidays are past. Molly will be happy to spend time with her cousin Maebh, and I will be happy to have that babe in my arms once again :) We are also going to ensure we get some really good photos.

3 Week Break

Funny how when you work full-time you end up appreciating the weekends much more than before. Or maybe not... I think I looked more forward to my three day weekend when I had a job that wasn't so enjoyable. But I'm running away with my point here. What I initially logged on to say was that I am now officially on vacation and if I thought working full time gives me a better appreciation for the weekend, no wonder I think I've hit the jackpot with a three week hiatus.

So - Packing.

Much less enjoyable when you are flying charter and only have one suitcase per person. Hrrmmmm. Thank god I have sisters who are happy to share and as usual I will be breaking into Fern's stash of sweatshirts/joggers and t-shirts for the Mersey River Trip; saves room for all the important stash I need to bring like Pear Cider.

It doesn't hurt either being able to pack one suitcase for two boys, however we only want to go out with three cases. The reason behind this for those of you who don't know me well: We will buy a big hold-all (much cheaper out there) from Walmart that we will then fill with Canadian goodies. (Including comfort jeans for a few of the girls ;)

I've looked at life from both sides now

I can hardly believe that it has been six years since my first post. Six years people. It basically coincides with my failed attempt to move to the UK! Good times I tell you.

Hard to say what direction this blog would have taken, if my life hadn't gone in the direction it did.

As I sit here reflecting on years gone past, on posts that I've written, some published, some not, I have to wonder - what has happened to everyone?

Is the blog going to go the direction of so many other fads? Most of my blogger buddies seem to only post very sporadically, and often I am lucky if I manage to see a video link, or photos. Now don't get me wrong, I like these types of posts, especially the ones that include photos but its sometimes nice to open a blog and actually see they've written something . I know I'm one to talk, and often my only excuse it that I don't really feel like I have anything to say. Which is bullshit really - we can all come up with something if we put just a little bit of effort into it.

I was chatting with my sister about all this the other day and she actually mentioned that she is considering giving up her blog in favour of starting another. My first thought was 'No! you can't give it up - you are the original blogger out of our crew, you can't!' then I thought about all the other blogs she has initiated and can't understand why she wouldn't just begin a new one whilst still keeping on her original blog. I understand where she is coming from but I stil protest!

Am I wrong to care this much about who is continuing to post? It's just a forum after all. But I do care. I love our little community and wish that we all spent a little more time 'maintaining it'. Especially where we are all in various parts of the world and its a great way to stay connected.

Now here I sit, six years on, with not a whole lot to say other than this:

Here's to six more years! I don't like the name of this blog, its unoriginality is quite banal, (even if reflective of my existence some days) however I'm not giving it up to begin another for the sake of a name change.

So Happy Anniversary to me and my verbal bullshit.

My friend Alex Keith and everything in between

In the wee hours of the 18th August, while the dawn is only considering showing its face, Andy and I will pack the two boys and all of our luggage into the SUV to begin the drive to Gatwick Airport (my very favourite, have I ever said?) to board a plane that will take us to Nova Scotia - to my family and friends.

We are all counting down the days and by this time next week we will be in holiday mode... (Connor has been blowing on about this trip for weeks now). Nobody is really talking about much other than the lake, the beaches, the food, the drink, the city and especially spending time with our family and friends.

However, Connor and I are in continuous conversation about somewhere that I consider to be one of the most fantastic places on God's green earth, a place where I have always felt complete peace and serenity. A place where my mind is always at ease and my heart feels like it has truly come home:

Mersey River





And it makes my heart sing that our blonde, rambunctious Con loves it so.

I only hope the old wood hottub is back in order so our stoker can fire it up for the night :)

A Perfect Way to Spend a Sunday...

At the Brackenborough Inn for lunch...

Yummy!

Double Yummy!

Andy just had lemon sponge and custard - it didn't look posh enough to take a photo of ;)

Beautiful Beryl

In the English Garden

Bargain Hunter

2 Dresses from House of Fraser - each at %70 off;
1 Pair of mushroom coloured heels at %70 off;

Steal of the week:

1 top (fall collection) from Next at a cool £2.75 (courtesy of the charity shop.)


My Birthday Boy:

Andy, the kids and I celebrated his birthday tonight with beer (none for the boys of course)and fajitas and decided to ditch the walk we had planned as the skies have opened up and its raining/hailing out there with the force of a drunk spewing 2 litres of wine and a chicken kebab...

We will celebrate with a meal out, etc on the weekend (and after pay day ;)

Andy at two months old

Five Days a Week...

As most of you are probably aware, back in March of this year I quit my job. After two years of trying to make something work that so obviously wasn't going to (not for me anyway) I packed it in - with no other job to go to. One aspect that was going to hit me hardest was not having any of my own pin money; no extra money to go out with the ladies who lunch, or buy the little treats for myself us girls fancy every now and again, such as shoes or make-up. However I did have an understanding husband who supported my decision in every way and when money allowed (i.e. wasn't wasted on bills or putting petrol in the 4x4 ;) didn't complain when I gave in to the odd lunch or four or just had to have a certain top I saw whilst out shopping. Needless to say though, I have been very good about it all. I think the fact that I managed to have over two months off while we seemed to have the best of the sunshine balanced out the not having as much dosh as I'm used to. Also, having my mother and Aunt here was a big bonus. If I'd still been working I would have lost out on a lot more time with them.

Now I say not working, which is kind of a fib, because not long after I quit my job I got a call from my former employer asking if I could do some temp work for her, only about 8 hours a week but hey, why not? (I shouldn't have been surprised, I'm just that good) And as Tesco says 'every little helps'. And it did, however slightly.

In between all the lunching, sunning and trips to the gym, I did manage to fill in an awful lot of applications; then attend an awful lot of interviews. I guess I wasn't that good after all ;) However just when I was about to despair I interviewed for a position that I knew I wanted even though it was full-time and I was awarded said position. I was in a slight form of shock the evening I was offered the job and almost had convulsions when asked if I could start the following Monday. My first thought was 'hell yes! I got the job!!!' while my second was 'so much for having the summer off' but then my third and final, and yes very driving thought was 'think of the money honey - think of the money'. And so last Monday I got myself geared up, pulled out my 'work' clothes and got back on the horse.

Mind you, its been six years since I road that horse... and by this metaphor I mean worked full-time. SIX YEARS people. Talk about an adjustment.

On that first morning I went off like a five year old beginning school for the first time: I had a big grin on my face, my clothes were clean and I was full of optimism, with just a slight twinge of fear. I was still feeling pretty much the same when I got home that first day. And then came Tuesday, which started well but by quitting time I was ready to pack it in. And so continued the week: my emotions were skipping all over the place. I was not happy with the situation at all. One day I was positive and upbeat, the next I was dejected and thinking I was in some kind of purgatory. I tell you, I was more up and down than a hyper kid on a trampoline. What an awful feeling. And not just for me... I think Andy and Alex were afraid to come near me for fear I would eat them in between growls (maybe I can't blame it all on work though, as it was the time in my cycle where I tend to get slightly crazy.)

Then the weekend came and I breathed it in just like a prisoner would who has been released from prison after 20 long years.

And once again came Monday. I went to work and I got stuck in and had a fabulous day. Then Tuesday, a little trepidation, wondering if something would crop up to make my positive thoughts run to the negative... but nope. Another great day. And here I am at Thursday, wondering where the week has gone. I've been so busy I don't know which way to turn but I'm thriving. I've easily stayed focused at work, am rising to the daily challenges and I still have enough energy to come home, get tea ready and even squeeze in some exercise. What's even better are days like today when I come home and find that our 16 year old has cleaned the house, including his bathroom and my husband offers to treat us to supper at the Harvest Moon. I really can't complain.

I certainly won't be complaining come payday.

They came, they saw,they loved
(in more ways than one)

I can't believe that its been two weeks now since my Mom and Aunt left to go back to Canada.

What a whirlwind of a ride it was having them here. Everybody knows that I never, ever had the expectation that my Mom, Gina would make the journey to come and visit me in the UK. Mom is the best, I couldn't ask for a better mother, but travelling by air is not her most favourite way to go. Because she has such an amazing, wonderful sister, Anita who was brave enough to accompany her, they finally made the decision to come. Once they arrived, they realized that it isn't as hard as some people make it out to be, travelling overseas. Mom is now saying that I don't live as far away as all that... and better yet, she will be back. Both of them have said this :)

Looking at Tower Bridge from the Tower of London

I love to hear everything Mom has had to say, both whilst she was here, and since she has gone home. We had so many moments of laughter and yes, a few tears. But only tears of joy. I think it has made my mother feel so much better seeing what my life is like here in Britain, and meeting my friends and extended family (she had already met my in-laws and step-sons of course). But to actually see how I live, and how joyfully we do so, gives her some peace.

At the Splash

The fact that our families gel so well means the world to me, probably even more so to Andy. I could never have chosen for myself a husband who was not accepted by my parents, nor whose parents were not accepting of myself. And vice-versa. Families are so important and life is to short to be wasted on people who think they are better than others. Andy and I originally chose each other passionately, but tread very cautiously where our families were concerned and because of this we have not had to deal with belittlement within our blended family.

Mom, Wendy and Aunt Nita at the Family Garden Party - I'm framing this one

A few highlights from the Holiday:

- Waiting joyfully at (the surprisingly uncrowded) Terminal 3 Heathrow Airport for the ladies to arrive. Not being able to wait for them once they walked out of the arrivals gate before running down to embrace both Aunt Anita and Mom.

- Just seeing the awe on their faces as they took in all the strange sights of a new country... the smaller, enclosed spaces, but with so many more people, the cars with steering wheels on the opposite side, and cars being driven on the other side. Never mind the looks on their faces when confronted with Buckingham Palace and the Crown Jewels. Their eyes were a bit welled with tears, just the same as mine had originally been. I know what they were thinking: How much Mom (my beloved Nanny) would have loved to have seen all this.

- The moment when Aunt Nita and I went to pay for our pub meal in London and Aunt Nita pulled out some notes, and then a bag of lose change Uncle Gordon had sent with her. 'Will this help?' as she handed me the clear baggy. I started to count out the money when I realized something wasn't right. I looked closer: these were no £ coins I was used to... they were shillings! The old English currency that was outdated sometime in the sixties I think. Let me tell you, we roared over that one.

- Mom's joy upon seeing where I lived, here in the outskirts of Grimsby, the house, the boys (and how they'd grown in 3 years), and of course, my baby Molly. The love between Molly and her two 'Nana's' was instantaneous. Why wouldn't it be?

- The arrival of Carol-Anne on the Friday, who gelled immediately with both women, Aunt Nita especially: I think the two of them spent more time laughing and crying than all of us combined.

- The time spent in the kitchen as Mom, Aunt Nita and Carol-Anne churned out delicious food night after night, especially for the BBQ we held on Saturday Eve. Aunt Nita's Asian Slaw is a hit now not only in Canada, but in the UK. Recipes have been emailed out as per request. I don't know how many chocolate chip oatmeal cookies Mom turned out, but me and the boys were so grateful. Sorry, but they were shared with no one else. I know Aunt Nita made at least three apricot cakes made with Philly Cheese, and if it weren't for the fact I need to be eating healthily, I would be attempting to make it myself. We've already gone through what they'd frozen for 'later'.

The four of us gals spent at least a few hours sitting at the dinning room table talking, laughing, drinking endless cups of tea, coffee, wine, breezers, etc. and better yet, swapping recipes.

- And then there were the days out: Lincoln Castle and Cathedral, Chatsworth House, York, for a ride through the countryside on a steam-engined train.

Boarding the Steam Train

Molly and her Nana's ready to get going :)

The Cheeky Two

The Journey Back...

The only disappointment of the whole journey was the beautiful day we went for a train ride and and ventured to Robin's Hood Bay on the way back. The weather had turned by then: the wind was up and the tide was in - right in. So no walk on the beach.

Robin Hood's Bay

But I was so proud of the ladies for making the hike back up to the car-park, because if you know Robin Hood's Bay, you know that is some hill. Stopping in for hot chocolate and scones didn't hurt, nor the fact that Molly was happy to assist in 'pulling' both women up the hill.



Also, the small outings, but still filled with fun and excitment: Taking the ladies to church on a Sunday morning and then sunning ourselves in the garden afterwards, consuming Mango breezers, listening to Johnnie Reed and calling the Aunties back home; the usual trips to the local pubs and some further afield like The Splash; the walks on the beach and in Hubbards Hills. They truly loved it all.





- Seeing how happy everyone was when together, be it with my family or friends:

The night of the BBQ was terrific, having mom and Aunt Nita laughing and singing with Irish Paul, and mom flirting with Lord Ady Sanderson (Sarah's husband) and both of them openly giving cuddles all around.

The day of the family Garden Party at Wendy's, especially when Mom and Anita finally got to meet Claire, something they were so eager for, and then the joy on her face when she realized all that they'd brought for her; watching Connor run around with his Dad's Canon, pretending to be the paparazzi; listening to Uncle Brian tease Aunt Nita and to have Aunt Mavis tell her stories.

It's all been brilliant, the way everyone embraced each other, just like I knew they would.

I couldn't stop smiling, and still haven't.

Back from Hiatus

I realize its been an awfully long time since I last posted. Initially my reasoning was that there wasn't much to talk about, then of course I had a visit from my beautiful mom and Aunt and naturally there will be loads to post about, but I'm still trying to sift through a multitude of photos, etc.

This last week has been a strange one, with a number of occurrences:

Some not so good:

I've come down with an awful bad spasm in my back that has been making every day life a little unbearable for me, and what's worse, its stopping me from going to the gym which I'd really love to be doing if not just for the exercise, but to keep my mind off missing my mom and Aunt Nita. As most of you also know, Polar, our little family dog back home, had to be put down last Friday. Its going to be so strange to go home this summer and not have him there, even though I've known this was coming for such a long time and said my goodbyes when I was home last year.

Some very good:

Our little romeo Connor turned 13 on Monday. To think of how fast the past six years have gone is unreal - I remember being with him when he celebrated his 8th birthday. Connor is such a sweet, unbelievably funny young man, with a knack for bringing a smile to the face of everyone he encounters. I wonder what the next few years have in store for us, considering the fact he has already brought more than one pretty young lass to our house, and has a penchant for causing mischief. But honestly, what's to be expected from a lad who could not only charm the birds out of the sky, but has such big blue eyes and a mop of unruly golden curls to match said personality? He still doesn't shy away from giving big hugs to his old step-mom and hopefully it will last a little longer. I have to publish these two photos though, the first one because it is such a family favourite, and the second, because it captures his personality brilliantly and shows what a shining star he is.





On Tuesday, Andy's brother Adi and his lovely wife Zoe welcomed one of the most beautiful baby boys I have ever seen into the world. Archie James weighed in at 7.15 and only put his momma through 4.5 hours of labour. Which was deserved really, after the hellish time they have gone through to have a child. On a lighter note though, I often think that if Andy and I were to ever have a baby and it was a girl, I would be so tempted to call her Veronica. This is probably a witticism only North Americans would understand ;) .

If bra talk makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this post.

I was happily getting into my groove this afternoon on the treadmill when I felt something uncomfortable in the region between my boobs. Something kinda scratchy. I figured maybe it was just because I'd switched bras quickly and didn't put the one I was wearing on properly. I chose to ignore it and continue with my run as I didn't want to interrupt my workout and thought it would adjust itself. About two minutes later I could stand it no more and whilst still jogging, reached into my shirt (which thankfully wasn't high necked) and quickly realized it was the under wire coming out of one of my cups. Any woman who wears a wire bra will know just how extremely uncomfortable this occurence can be at any time, never mind while you're jogging. I pushed it back in as best I could and continued with my run.

Another minute later and the damn thing had popped back out, this time with a vengeance. Oh man. There was nothing to it. I was not going to give up my run for anything - I was in my stride. So I took a quick look around, ignored the woman on the treadmill next to me, reached in and pulled that sucker out.

I'm not sure if she noticed what was happening but to tell the truth I didn't care. I stuck the wire in my cup holder and ran on in comfort.

Way I look at it, it could have been worse, I could have accidentally farted out loud.

I'm not that into you, Jimmy Choo

The other day my hubby and I had a huge clear out of our wardrobes. As I was putting the last few bits of my summer clothes away (and realizing how much of Stacy's summer clothes I still have from her trip last year), Andy came into the room and looked down at the bottom shelves of the closet.

These two shelves happen to be jam packed with a variety of shoes: high heeled, low heeled, flip flops, boots, you name it. This isn't even counting the box of shoes I don't wear often but can't bear to part with, which is stored on a shelf in the spare room. And I still don't think I have enough... you can never have enough shoes.

This was my response to his question 'Don't you think you have enough shoes?'. When he heard my response he said 'You are getting as bad as Carrie Bradshaw'. Now, I'm probably breaking a major rule in the husband-wife rule book by publishing the fact my husband knows who this character is, but hey, he has to admit that for all the times I've made him sit through episode after episode of the show, he's actually been drawn in. I think he secretly has a crush on Mr. Big. Or at least admires his slick personality.

Anyway, my very quick response to his likening me to Carrie was: 'No way... all the shoes in my closet wouldn't add up to five pairs of hers.' I buy most at a bargain and usually always draw the line at $150, unless of course they are an absolute must have, and face it, all of us shoe lovin' girls have found at least one pair of clogs we can't just leave on the shelf, despite the price.

Note: Of course this is why I stay clear of designer shoe shops - what you don't see you can't miss, nevermind afford.

Never too stingy to share...

As most of you know, I have three sisters and one brother. We were considered rather a large family whilst I was growing up and still would be considered a large family by some. But more importantly, I like to think we are a close family. A tad bit dysfunctional maybe, but hey, show me a family that isn't?

Growing up my sisters and I got on well enough together and often chose to do things together without being forced to by our parents. Naturally, we had the usual fights over touching stuff that might not belong to us, such as clothes or make up, but most often we were happy to share, something that has luckily followed us into adulthood.

The McDonald Sister Clothes Swap is quite an event to behold (or so I have been told)and its bad enough when two of us are partaking in this event, but when a third gets thrown into the mix, it can be very difficult to follow. Our friend Dawn used to shake her head at us, but now that she participates in this event, she has become even more ensconced into the Family McDonald, bringing me to this point:

Not only do us sisters share clothes, make up, books, etc. we quite happily share our friends.

For years Dawn was mainly Tawny's friend, one of her best, and quickly become a much seen presence in our house. By the time we had reached our early twenties, she had became not only a solid friend to Tawny, but was quickly becoming a good mate to myself, especially after Tawn departed to another region of the country. Dawn at one point even dabbled in a friendship with Sandra (the one of us that tends to march to her own drummer :) But Dawn had something in her that can seemingly relate to all of us McDonald girls. While Dawn and Stacy were both here in 2006 I kept saying that they should start hanging out more back home, as they always seemed to get on so well when we were all together, and so they did. Now they continuously get together for movie dates, shopping and a bit of dining thrown in ;) It makes my heart sing to know they are together, looking out for one another. It is sometimes hard to be missing out, but it makes the times when we all get together even better. I can only thank Tawny for being so open-hearted and unselfish for sharing Dawn with us so willingly.

And in return, I would like to think I've been the same way throughout my life. I have always been happy to introduce my old friends to new friends, as well as to my family. If everyone hits it off, even better.

I met one of the best women I have had the pleasure of knowing shortly after moving to England. We had five years to grow close and she became indispensable to me during this time. Last year, she left to move back to Ontario and in some ways, a very large part of me went with her. I miss her often and sometimes still can't believe she is gone. While she was living here she was able to meet Stacy and Dawn, and they too came to love her. Since moving back home, CA has been able to connect with Tawny and they have since developed a close relationship. This I am happy about because I know my friend could use the loyalty and support that is so readily given by my sister, and as well, because my sister will only benefit from this girl with the big heart who isn't afraid to say what she feels.

So again, here we are - us sisters sharing in the love of beautiful friendships. Friendships that I know will survive the years and miles spent apart because they already do. Here we still are, after all of this time, laughing and crying and being there for each other.



Carol Anne, Dawn and Me at the Canada Day BBQ we had the summer of 2007:

No Looking Back

There are some decisions in life that we make and instantly regret the choice we made. Other choices are made and we know immediately it is the correct one, even from the moment the idea took shape.

But it's the decisions we make that keep niggling and picking at that little spot in our conscience, asking 'but was it really the right thing to do?' My husband believes that once you've made a decision, it is the right one, no matter the outcome, because it was the right choice for you at the time.

This is something my feelings run to the ambivalent on due to some decisions I've made where I wish I could turn back the clock. Decisions that may have been insignificant, or enormous in their capacity, but either way I wonder what the alternative outcome might have been if I'd taken the other option. Many people, myself included, have been heard to say: Stop dwelling on the would haves, could haves and should haves of this world. What is done is done and and there is no turning back the clock. And I do believe this... for the most part.

Because really, how long can you sit around thinking and recriminating on something that is past? Or how long must someone weigh the pros and cons before making their mind up about something? Is it better to make instant decisions or spend ages thinking about it before coming to a decision? I suppose its all relevant to the enormity of the choice needed to be made.

However when you are someone who can take a ridiculous amount of time to decide on what kind of ice-cream she'd rather have, how can I possibly make life-changing decisions in a short amount of time? Despite all the uncertainties that run riot in my head, I am someone that actually does manage to make decisions (sometimes sooner rather than later) and the decisions that serve me best are often the ones I've made spur of the moment, especially when it comes to the momentous decisions in my life; because ultimately somewhere deep down, I'd been deliberating for quite some time and knew the answer all along.

Keep the focus on the ball.

Back when Molly was only a year or so old, we started playing on the field that now only happens to be across the street. On this field Molly was able to socialize and meet a number of new friends. Two of these friends were Abby, a manic black flat-coat retriever, who still happens to be quite manic, and Carter, a placid chocolate lab, who at the moment is anything but, at least when he is outside.

Over the years I've become quite close to the owners of these dogs, and as a result we often take turns taking care of each other's dogs. Molly goes crazy with glee when she realizes she is being dropped off at Abby's for a few hours, and of course Carter is now jokingly referred to as her boyfriend. The only problem is, over the last year or so, Carter has become increasingly more cranky and is basically an arsehole when it comes to other dogs; especially other dogs that want to bother with Molly. It was only the other day that he and Dawn, his owner, were out on the field and ran into another chocolate lab that was a little on the cranky side. Dawn was later telling me that the other dog's owner was relieved that her dog wasn't the only one with a foul temperament, when Molly and I walked on to the field. Dawn was quick to inform the woman that now would be a good time time to vacate, as here comes Carter's woman and he just doesn't deal well with other dogs coming near her. And its true, Carter is manic over tennis balls and Molly. What's so surprising though, is that he is an absolute teddy bear when he is in the house, whether that be ours, or his own.

Today on the field he got into this horrible fight with Mac, another neighbourhood dog who is normally rather easygoing. It was a nightmare to watch, and we were all desperately trying to break them up. Carter and I both ended up a bit bloody, and I don't know who was more shaken up in the end, Molly or Carter's Mom. If didn't know him and love him so well, I might have to put a stop to his seeing my Molly ;)

This was my 1st attempt, and a lesson learned:
I should never make these when my husband isn't home


Blueberry Lemon Mini Puff Pastries


Note: When you are feeling ambivalent about something, baking might be the solution to occupy yourself but only if you have a strong enough constitution not to eat it afterwards!

Rise and Shine, whether you like it or not

I was enjoying a fairly good sleep this morning when the phone rang. As I reached over to pick it up, I looked at the clock to realize it was only 6:30 a.m. 6:30 on a Friday morning - my day off. The day when I enjoy a bit of a lay-in before heading to the gym, and most people know this.

I then experienced the obligatory second of wondering if it was someone calling to convey bad news. But thankfully no, it wasn't anything serious. Yet, in a sense it was bad news: bad news in the form of the blond, curly headed one in our family who is usually so oblivious to anything unless it involves sugar or getting back outside to his mates.

As soon as he heard my mumbled 'hello' he quickly apologised and hung up (because this isn't the first time he's made this mistake, but it is the earliest he's made it). Who he was ringing at that hour is beyond me. I'd like to think he has more sense than to even bother trying his brother at that hour, but since I didn't hear Alex's phone ring, it couldn't have been him either. He's lucky he's still at the stage where I find him so adorable, I'd forgive him almost anything.

Regardless, that was me up for the day.

So here it is, 3 p.m. in the afternoon and I've accomplished a multitude of tasks that I only half reckoned on completing by the day's end, nevermind before it was only half over. But man, I'm tired - I don't even get up that early on work days.

You'd have to have way more money than sense...

It costs a whopping £10 a day to sign a guest in at the place where I work out. Now as the gym is part of the country club, which has a pool, hot tub, steam room, etc. I figure this is the reason they can get away with such an inflated price.

Last year they were selling off guest passes at half price so I bought quite a few as I knew Dawn would be coming over and Andy was keen to use a few at the weekends. At £5 a pass, it didn't seem so unreasonable. Towards the back end of last year, I had some left over so I took Alex with me a few times. We both had great workouts and he didn't seem bothered in the least to have a soak in the hot tub with his old stepmom.

He's been asking me recently if he could go again but as there hasn't been any half-price sales, the answer had to be no, as much as I would have liked to be able to bring him with me.

Today though, his dad and I were chatting and we figured that since he didn't last out the weekend at his mum's, I'd offer to take him with me tonight since there wasn't much else to do. Besides, he seems to prefer that over a movie, and it would have worked out to a similar price.

So twenty minutes ago, with our gym gear on and our swimwear packed, we headed up to the country club. As we were in the process of signing in, I pulled out a £10 note to pay the receptionist. She visibly gulped before saying 'I'm very sorry, but its gone up to £12.50'. She looked embarrassed to even have to say it; And so she would be. Jaysus. You'd think you were working out at an elite A-lister club what with that ridiculously jacked up price. I can't believe that anyone would actually pay that... and obviously they do, or the club wouldn't be able to charge it. Unfortunately for Alex, and my much needed workout, I wasn't one of them.

These shoes were made for me

Normally I post about items that I have been coveting after I have made the purchase, or at least have it on order. As do most of us bloggers.

But I held off buying these shoes, thinking they just might be an impulse buy as sometimes is the case with me. However this was something I needn't have procrastinated over, as I've thought about them almost everyday since trying them on in the shop. I think about how kick-ass they would look with a certain outfit, especially my jeans and a colourful top. And although I wouldn't be able to actually walk in them, come payday they will be mine.

Voted by our boys as their favourite holiday to date

Its been nearly three years since Andy and I took the boys to Canada to meet my family and friends (well those that hadn't yet been able to come to us).

Since then, they have continuously asked when they would get to go back out there, because they seem to love the way of life and the people, just as much as me and their dad. Connor repeatedly refers to that trip as 'the best ever'. This year, we were able to tell them that providing we found flights at a reasonable price, we would be going. And so we are. I love that we have the opportunity to bring them back home, not only because they love it, but because of the people out there who love them and can't wait to see them. So many plans are already in the works and its only March. I honestly couldn't be more joyful about this trip.

Well, maybe if we could bring Molly with us!

Here's to getting more fabulous photos like this for the memory books:




Fern and the boys (hope she's prepared for them)


The 'reflective two' - Alex and Tawny


Oh, and of course one of my most favourite places in the world - seriously:
Mersey River

Connor looks so young here! But so happy :)


Alex and Dawn

Already we are talking about the even larger group that will be at Mersey River this summer... cabins, teepees and all the canoeing and kyaking we can handle.

Added bonus - the old wood fueled hot tub with a few beers and bottles of wine thrown in for us 'adults' of course.

Taken lightly, with a grain of salt (and maybe a shot of tequila)

I can't count the number of times over the last week where I have had to say 'Can you not do that' or 'Don't patronize me' or 'Excuse me - what did you just say' (This last comment is often made while I'm still trying to process if I really heard correctly thinking - 'No, you didn't just say that'). It doesn't end with the verbal prose either. Discussion of some of the scents I encounter daily could take up an entire page.

Believe it or not, I'm not talking about interactions with my teenage stepsons - I'm talking about that other thing I do on a daily basis. And I don't mean my colleagues either, although the smell might pertain to a few of those.

I've been helping out a lot lately on the front line. Most people are generally alright, and I've developed a tenuous rapport with quite a few already, even sharing a few laughs. However my own workload is taking a serious hit, and there are days like today when I wonder if I'm really cut out to deal with the finest Grimsby has to offer. Its just as well that I don't take myself too seriously.

Maybe I shouldn't say anything at all, but I figure since I'm not talking about any one particular incident, or certain individual I can't be breaking the the rules... just venting you know? But maybe I am... ???

At least the air has warmed up and I've got wine in the house :) And tomorrow is another day. Hopefully one I will get to wake up to after a restful night, much better equipped for what awaits me. But then again, a good sleep these days seems to be but a much longed for dream. I was actually laying awake last night after 3 a.m. thinking about a topic that would be fun to blog, but damned if I can remember what that was. It sure wasn't this.

Lovers, Friends, Weirdos

I thought I'd copy this meme here to give you a peek at the person I've agreed to spend my life with :) Every year for the rest of my life... however long that may be :)

What are your middle names?
My middle name is Margaret after my Aunt, and Andy's is David, after his Dad.

How long have you been together?
We've been married almost five years, together for nearly seven.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We didn't start dating in the conventional sense. We were more pals at first, meeting for lunch, basically trying to get some perspective on our relationships with other people, and having a laugh.

Who asked whom out?
We kind of just fell into it, after a few lunches & evenings out with mutual friends. But he definitely pursued me...

Whose siblings do you see the most?
I am the eldest of five children, Andy is the second of four. Because we live in England, we see his siblings more frequently then we see mine, however I think I get to spend more quality time with my siblings when I actually get to see them. Time wise, it probably works out to be about the same - Alison (Andy's sister) lives in Nottingham and although we probably see her four/five times a year, its only for very short periods. Although his brother lives in the same town we probably see Alison and Scott more. Thankfully, we do get to see his sister Claire more frequently.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Early last Autumn, Andy began to work away for 12 days at a time. When he was coming home every weekend it worked out much better for us. However we know this isn't for the long term and we have gotten through much harder circumstances in the past.

Did you go to the same school?
Not when we both grew up on separate continents. I grew up in Halifax/Beaverbank, Nova Scotia and Andy grew up in Grimsby, England

Who is smarter?
Andy is smarter than me when it comes to politics and world knowledge and can retain technical information like a computer hard drive; he is far more driven than I am. I have to work a lot harder to process information, but I'm pretty switched on when it comes to day to day life and never forget anything. I can also kick his ass at Scrabble so I can't be that thick.

Who is the most sensitive?
Hands Down - me.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Due to us rarely seeing each other these days - a cozy little pub called The Harvest Moon works for us both.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Aside from Canada that would be Italy or Greece.

Who has the craziest exes?
I'll take the 5th on that since most of my readership knows the answer to THIS one.

Who has the worst temper?
Ask the kids, lol.

Who does the cooking?
Me. When I first moved here I could do a few very basic things such as stirfry and pita pizza, maybe one or two other set recipes. Over the past year I have broadened by culinary skills and am now finding myself not only being able to prepare nutritious and tasty meals, I'm enjoying it. I always did have a knack though for getting the boys to eat their veggies.

Who is the neat-freak?
Neither of us. We both like a nice tidy house but aren't what you'd call House Proud. I do like it much better though when things are in their place and not left scattered all over the house. This works much better through the week when there is only two of us in the house.

Who is more stubborn?
I think he would say me. I think he's probably right - I can definitely hold out for longer.

Who hogs the bed?
Molly.
Although, its supposed to be between me and Andy so:
Andy and I are pretty good about sharing our bed, although he does tend to steal the covers.

Who wakes up earlier?
Andy. Its a very rare weekend morning or holiday that finds him in bed past 8:30.

Where was your first date?
A restaurant in the West End Mall called TJ Alexanders - it was a lunch date and was a 'let's meet in the middle' place (I worked up the road and he was lodgig around the corner).

Who is more jealous?
Ahem. This information is protected by the therapist-client privilege.

How long did it take to get serious?
Considering he was just supposed to be a summer fling, we got serious pertty quickly; we knew within six months we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.

Who eats more?
Me, no question. Although I tend to eat more healthy food than Andy; he has a habit of keeping sweets and chocolate in his company van, which he happens to spend a lot of time travelling in.

Who does the laundry?
Mostly me. Whites have a habit of turning pink when he does, although he can put me to shame when it comes to the ironing.

Who's better with the computer?
Andy but I can type dictation whilst watching the tv and by this I mean looking at the TV, which he has trouble getting his head around.

Who drives when you are together?
Mostly Andy. He's not a better driver than me, but more confident and parks better than I do. Besides he has to feel like he's in charge of at least one aspect of our lives and the kids find it funny when I'm in the drivers seat while Dad's in the car.

Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other (if you have one) on your blog.

Look how I answered all these questions about my husband without once mentioning his ex-wife!

Copied off BehindzBeyond because I've nothing else to say...

I too am gonna fancy myself a celebrity for a minute. Just for the hell of it! These are questions James Lipton asks on Inside The Actor's Studio:


1)What's your favorite word?
GINORMOUS

2)What is your least favorite word
Bloody

3)What turns you on?
A great smelling cologne

4)What turns you off?
nose-pickers

5)What sound/noise do you love
A child's laughter

6)What sound/noise do you hate?
Loud piercing house alarms

7)What is your favorite curse word
Fucker

8)What profession would you like to attempt?
Publisher

9)What profession would you not like to attempt
Door-to-Door Sales

10)If Heaven exists,what would you like God to say to you upon your arrival?
Well done :)

Little Pink Shoe

When a few days, or especially weeks pass, without me posting whatever passes for interesting or perhaps menial to some, my husband queries me on when I might be posting again.

My reply is often a cryptic 'when I have something blogworthy to say'. This can vary from week to week. Often I think 'I really need to blog this' but more times than not, especially since my laptop went on the fritz, I can't be bothered. I used to like sitting comfy on the couch, with the tv on in the background, while I blogged about whatever I might be feeling, more often than not, something trivial. These days, I'm not online so much as I have to drag myself upstairs to sit in front of a laptop that can't be moved because the top half is hanging precariously on to the keyboard, or better yet, the letter O is permanently jammed; if its not sticking, then its practically being flung off the console. But I choose to be persistent. At least tonight.

Today was a great day. A great day in the terms that I didn't have to go to work, got to see a number of friends, walk Molly twice and well, basically get through the day without mishap. Despite having such a great day, I did start to feel slightly melancholy. This is probably due in part to the fact that I still haven't quite adjusted to Andy not coming home very Friday, even though I've found ways to fill my time. And although I was invited out, tonight I looked forward to a whole night ahead of me on my own, in complete peace and quiet. Alex is out for the night so its just Molly and me.

Hence:

I went off to Tesco to buy a few groceries, and whilst up there, noticed that one of my favourite wines was on offer. This white was one that I discovered by accident, when someone brought a few bottles of it to our tree decorating party back at the beginning of December, and left them, unopened. Its called Le Maison de Charlotte and I think its fantastic. I don't know who it was that brought it to my house, but I thank you. And because there was a three for £10 sale on, they had the red on offer from the same label. Imagine my delight when I realized that they not only made the white, but a red entitled Le Maison de Michael. And if its half as good as the the white, I'm laughing all the more.

So I've sat home tonight catching up on my favourite shows such as Brothers & Sisters, enjoying a crisp, cold glass of Charlotte out of a wine glass with a little pink shoe around its stem that I've never bothered to remove after a party because I just like that little pink charm. And now I'm trying to blog on a keyboard that constantly misses out the 0 while I'm reminded of a few of my other favourite things:

I have a shirt on tonight that I wore at the weekend. It still smells like the perfume I wore when my husband took me to dinner. I love this stuff:



Something I love even more, and wish I could have near me tonight, just happens to be these three:



At least two of them are together having a good time. Its nights like these when I wish I could wrinkle my nose, or tap my pink high heels together and be zapped to where ever they are, even if for a few short hours.

But some things are worth the wait, aren't they?

Just when you least expect it.

Yesterday when I arrived home it was to find a slip that the postman had left regarding collection of a parcel that he was unable to deliver due to size. I didn't want to hope too much, but I was pretty certain it was the Christmas parcel mom had sent back in early November. She was so dismayed when it didn't reach me in time for Christmas, even though she knew that it was a possibilty because she had missed the cut off date. I had been telling her all along not to stress about it, I don't mind getting presents late, after all its something else to look forward to after all the Christmas fuss. Although both of us thought it would at least be with me for New Years. No luck. Almost every second or third day for the month of January Mom has been ringing me to see if the package came. I started wondering if maybe it'd gotten held up at customs as sometimes happens.

But apparently not, because today when I nipped up to the post office and read the date on the package to make sure it wasn't a birthday parcel, I saw that it was dated the 3/11/08. I spent about 10 seconds trying to decide if I should just put it on the backseat and wait till I got home after work to open it. But then I thought there is no way I can go to work and then go out with B for lunch knowing that it was sitting in the 4x4 unopened. So I gleefully tore it open and smiled when I saw the pretty packages and then set to opening it all.

Now I'm sitting here thinking about all the pretty tops that were enclosed and the beautiful ring my sister had tucked into the package. Its truly beautiful and so similar to the one I had been coveting off her when she was here this summer.

Am I bothered that my Christmas presents arrived a few days before my birthday? I should say not... it was lovely getting such great gifts at this very gloomy time of the year and its going to keep me smiling all weekend.

Recipe for Disaster

Last week at work the girls and I started up a weight loss club to see if we could all shake some extra pounds. This week not one of us gained weight and all but one of us lost at least 2-6 lbs.

Last night, feeling like I ought to bake the boys some cookies since we don't have any store bought ones in and haven't for a while, I chose to attempt to make Gina's Yummy Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies.

And so I did. 45 of them.

And although they aren't as scrummy as my mom's they are still quite good, especially if a group of 12 year olds are to be believed: I was in the living room when Connor and about 6 of his mates came in looking for a drink, and a break from the cold. Of course the cookies were spotted straight away and as they munched on one each I overheard them asking Connor did I always bake such good stuff, and had to smile when I overheard one of his friends say 'these are really nice but you also need to try these other ones she makes with rice-crispies in em!'And so the conversation continued while I sat in the living room unobserved grinning like the obvious kitchen wizard that I'm apparently turning into.

But...

The pleasure of baking for my boys wasn't enough as I had to help myself to the guilty indulgence of the damnable things. And not just 1 or 2. So today, I'm trying to ignore the call of chocolate chip oatmeal and concentrate on soups and stir-frys. One day of sweet delights are enough... I can only work off so much at the gym.

Alex and the girls

We had Maebh (Paul and Sohpia's dalmation) over the holidays and as both Andy and I were lucky enough to have over a week off, we took the dogs out for a lot of long walks. A few times we managed to get down to Horseshoe Point, and once out to Dixon Woods. These are some of the better shots we managed to capture:

A few rays of sun managed to squeeze through the gloomy grey clouds.


Can you see Maebh down there in the front?


Our Mol


Maebh through the trees.


My beautiful girl.

And so begins 2009

Last night at just a moment or two past midnight the phone rang as it always does at this time of year. Both my parents and Aunt and Uncle rang to wish us Happy New Year. They always get together on New Year's Eve for a feed of fresh Lobster. And they always call us at midnight UK time be they at mom's or Aunt Shirley's. Always.

It was great to hear them all hollering Happy New Year, as we all gleefully hollered it right back for my mom to hear.

The evening went exactly as both Andy and I had wanted it to. We had our dear friends Dawn and Robert over, and their son Cameron, who happens to be one of Connor's best mates. We ordered an Indian, we chatted, drank some beer and wine and best of all had a Guitar Hero and Sing Star session.

It would be fair to say our Connor could be given the award for the evening's entertainment, most certainly in the amusement category. It was so satisfying to see the ease with which he danced around strumming the guitar as he put most of us to shame, but what was so amusing was the confidence oozing out of him as he sang his heart out, while making intermittent witty comments to us, his captivated audience. At one point I was in stitches as I don't know what was moving more, his lips or his hips.

Alex, being his usual lovingly sarcastic self, was enjoying taking the mick out of the way us girls were singing, me in particular, however was quick to clam up once he finally gave in and decided to sing in the last moments leading up to the countdown. Two years ago he might have been our sing star champ, but something called puberty has put an end to that. He readily agreed that an adult voice is much harder to nail Sing Star with. Today he has informed me we need to get practicing.

Before and after our not so quiet little gathering, I got to speak to a few very near and dear back home, which put the icing on the kind of night I enjoy most. I hope our New Year's Eve was an indication of how 2009 might turn out... No longer do I wish for the days of loud night clubs and hugging people I don't really know whilst ringing in a new year.

On the last eve of 2008 I was exactly where I want to be at this stage in my life, with my husband, our boys, Molly and close friends. If 2009 continues on in this manner, I will be very content and happy with where my path has lead me.

I have no New Year's resolution for 2009, only the wish that once again I get to hug my family and friends back home.

So here's to you all who read my blog: May 2009 see you find good health and happiness. May you leave old hurts behind and surround yourself with loved ones. And may you just take time to slow down and appreciate your life and what you have.

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day."

Two of my sisters did a Christmas post this year about their favourite movies so I won't do that this festive season. Instead, I've put together a list of warnings for all of you that like to hit the bottle a little, or a lot, over the holidays. I do have to admit that I blame Dawn and Beryl for the amount of wine I have consumed over these past few years, and not just at Christmas.

So, here is a list of reminders for those who like to enjoy more than one or two alcoholic beverages during the holidays:

1)The consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people.

2)The consumption of alcohol may lead you to think people are laughing WITH you.

3) The consumption of alcohol may cause you to think you can sing.

4) The consumption of alcohol may cause pregnancy.

5) The consumption of alcohol is a major factor in dancing like an idiot.

6) The consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them. (A symptom I definitely exhibit)

7) The consumption of alcohol may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.

8) The consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when you are not.

Out of the Archives...

A McDonald Christmas Memory

Years ago, when I was about 7 or 8 my mom got us ready to take us for our annual trip to see Santa Claus at Halifax Shopping Centre. Now, we stood in line for a rather long time and I just wanted to get up there and tell the old boy about the barbies and accessories that were on my long list. I have to say, I was just a little bit anxious as well, going to sit on a strange man's lap and all (funny that I grew out of that). I knew that this wasn't the REAL Santa as he was way too busy to be attending long lines of kids and that he sought the assistance of men all over the world to do this tedious job.

Finally it was our turn and as my mom wanted a picture she sent my sisters and I up together. Tawny was about 6 and Sandra only 3 or 4. I was busily telling Santa (who happened to have sparkly blue eyes underneath those glasses) what I wanted when Tawn interrupted and blurted out these unforgettable words

"Dad! Is that you?".

It was...

I don't know why I didn't clue in - I suppose I was just too wrapped up in getting out what needed to be said and getting out of there, me being so shy in the 'old' days. Tawn has always been way more observant then me. Point in fact... Jeez.

What is it with this time of year?

This is the time of year when I normally just want to be filled with thoughts of the pending holidays and where my biggest concern is making sure the presents are all bought and wrapped, and what kind of spread I want to lay on for our Christmas lunch.

However:

Andy is stressed to the max with his work and the fact that he isn't feeling so hot these days. We could probably toss familial relationships on the top of it all if we are being honest.

Alex is stressed because of personal relationships on the other side of this family.

Connor, well he just doesn't usually stress at all, which I can certainly run with.

Me, well I'm just trying not to be stressed and am determined that stress will be left at the front door this Christmas. I had a few issues at work that were causing me to be slightly perturbed (strangely not really work related) but that was down to me and the fact that me being me, want everyone to be content.

Personally I want to continue on being the easy-going person I usually am. I should not let the emotions of others put a stop to this. Its just sometimes really rather hard.

I am 4000 miles away from my loved ones at home. I only want the people I care for here to be in a good place during this season of joy and peace.

And so:

Andy and I took the boys to pick out our tree on Saturday, despite the fact that it was chucking it down, and as Andy and Alex put the tree in its stand, and donned the lights, Connor and I cheerfully baked cookies.

We had a lovely party that night with our dearest friends to help decorate our tree. (Photos to follow shortly, when I have a moment to upload)

These are the moments that make my heart sing. These are the moments I want Christmas to be full of this year - and I know they will be. I'm just venting my slight feeling of uneasiness. It'll pass by tomorrow I'm sure. I tend to get like this when the nights draw in so early and the days aren't filled with blue skies and white snow...

A lot of time on my hands...

I'm not going to blog yet again about this damn chest infection, etc. that has pretty much kept me locked down for the last few days causing me a variety of emotions from guilt at not going to work, to frustration from not being able to do very much, let alone go to the gym, or take Molly out for the kind of walk she needs and deserves or Christmas shop...

I have had a lot of time to think and have pondered a lot this week, especially after having had a good chat with Cat on the phone yesterday afternoon.

This time of year brings with it an abundance of extra drinking and eating, what with all the celebrations, not to mention the scrummy food that seems to be on offer almost everywhere you turn. Looking at photos of myself, I seem to obsess over the slight bit of weight I have put on over the last little while, especially now that I haven't been able to work out in over a week. The girls in the office and I have had many a conversation about our bad 'bits' and how they drive us crazy, and how we could all stand to lose a stone, or two, or even three.

And then on the phone Cat, who had a baby last December, was saying how she needs to lose x amount of weight, leading us to the discussion of baby weight, and then weight in general. Of course we all need to be healthy and not let our flab run away with us to the point of obesity. Some women seem to bounce right back after baby, while others struggle to get back to where they were pre-baby, and alas some never even come close to regaining their figure. I also understand the need to try and lose most of the baby weight prior to getting pregnant with another child, because if you don't, you can end up doubling what you need to lose and it often gets out of control. And I do have to agree that being an overweight woman to begin with is not healthy for mom or baby.

I constantly berate myself because I'm nearly a stone up from where I used to be two years ago. But then the argumentative side of me says... 'woman, you might be up on the scales, but you have managed to keep the 28 lbs (2 stone) off from when you lost it five years ago' and I am right. I am still where I was when I initially lost my weight. I was determined enough to lose even more after moving here and I want to get back there again. Hopefully in a few months I will manage it because that's where I'm most comfortable being. And I just want to be comfortable :)

There are all kinds of reasons why we should look after ourselves, our health being the number one reason and no we all can't be size 6's and so long as we eat reasonably well and work out regularly, why can we not just be accepting of the body we have? This is why I love people like Gok Wan, a fabulous, self confessed queen who presents a show over here called How to Look Good Naked. What he does for women is fantastic and he often manages to get the women on his show to believe they are beautiful and that they need to love what God gave them, and work it to their best advantage.

And I often think and have often been heard to say... "If I were to find out tomorrow that I had an inoperable tumour, would I really care that I'm a healthy size 10-12? (14 in the UK)". No. I think I would regret that I spent so much damn time obsessing over something that is kind of small in the whole scheme of things.

So here's to you Gok... because this Christmas I'm enjoying myself with food and drink and I know it'll all be ok, cause the gym is my friend.

An answer to why I've always liked the senior set...

At the moment I'm chock full of antibiotics, cough syrup and liquids as I try and beat the throat and chest infection I have come down with. I left work early yesterday after struggling through two hours. I have a horrible cough and when I'm sick like this it takes only the mildest scent of perfume, etc. to set off my asthma. I had been sleep deprived for the previous two nights because when I get a cough like mine, I come down with incessant hacking that sounds strangely similar to a sick dog that not only wracks my throat, chest and back, but keeps me awake all night. Because I share a bed with Andy and it was the weekend, he too had the pleasure of being kept awake most of both nights. I know he did catch a few z's as I heard him lightly snoring off and on, but I would still reckon he wasn't too disappointed to hit the road Monday morning. You're probably wondering why I wasn't in the spare room, 'sparing' my husband, however he insists I stay in the comfort of my own bed and stubbornly stays with me...

So today I have been sat here trying to ignore the pain that this ridiculous cough has caused (its now giving me a vicious headache), and avoid going out in the cold. On the way home yesterday I stopped at the video store and picked up a few videos, which have luckily stopped me from going completely stir crazy. My favourite thus far has been Death at a Funeral, one of the funniest films I've ever seen.

This morning, I had a few parcels that had to go in the post today, and instead of just going to the post office I pushed myself and drove a little further on to Tesco for some soup and cough drops. Because I'm not feeling the best, I wasn't really bothered by the fact that my hair was shoved up in a clip, my face was completely bare of make up under the specs and I wasn't exactly dressed to impress. I took a look at myself in the rear view mirror, and answered my pasty, spotted reflection with a 'bah' before heading into the supermarket.

I walked up the bread aisle remarking to myself that it must be senior day at Tesco's before turning up the next isle where yet another 'older' gent was perusing the muffins. He looked at me, grinned and asked if I was following him. I smiled and assured him I wasn't when he winked at me and said 'well that's a shame'.

I didn't even take in what he'd said till I walked by. My first response was to think, man, someone needs glasses; my second thought was 'girl, he put a smile on your lousy face. He might be a near geriatric, and probably says things like that to all the younger women, and yes maybe he does need glasses, but you feel like shit and today, just for a moment, someone made you feel that little bit brighter :)

It was a small thing, nothing too significant and maybe its a cliche, but sometimes, its the little things in life that make a difference.

Note: Another thing that made my day brighter was having a conversation with my sister on the phone. Sometimes just hearing the voice of someone I don't get to see nearly enough is medicine to my soul, even if it can't fix my physical ailments.

The most wonderful time of the year... sort of :)

This will be my fifth Chrismtas in the UK and I honestly do not know where the time has went. I still remember so clearly the first year I moved to England to be with Andy and his children. It was mid December and I had just said a heart-wrenching farewell to everyone I love in preparation to start my life anew with the man who would become my husband. It was bittersweet because I was going to get to spend Christmas with Andy, but I ached at having to leave my family so close to Christmas, because we love Christmas at our house back home, and have some pretty special traditions. That year, we did manage one as Mom, Stacy and I were able to decorate the tree just before I left.

I came over here with the misguided notion that I would get to see London at Christmas, something which I believed would be absolutely magical. However getting back to Grimsby to meet my future step-children was first on the list and we have never yet made it back at this time of year.

This is probably one of the first Christmas Season's that I am genuinely looking forward to since moving here, despite missing my own kin. I've enjoyed other Christmases, but this year finds us in a really good place, in a home we are comfortable in, with a few traditions of our own. And for the first time in six years, my husband is going to see his children on Christmas Day, something that makes me extrodinarily happy as well, because Christmas should be about the children. Its win-win for all of us I think.

We have a number of parties this month, not least of all two here at the house - one with family on Saturday night, and then next Saturday some friends are coming round to help us decorate the tree (Me & Bailey's are tired of doing it on our own - the menfolk just aren't that interested.)

On the 19th I'm actually going to get to do something I have wanted to do since moving here: take the train down to London, hotel it with my husband, see the lights at Christmas and hopefully, fingers crossed go skating in Hyde Park!

Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park: