Little Sister

I don't think I've introduced you to the newest member of our extended family and she's already seven months old! 

This is Chloe

She is the very beautiful little sister to this munchkin, who I'm sure most of you will remember: 

Our Daisy Doodle. She is a character and a half if ever there was one. How much she has grown since she came to stay with me in December while Chloe was making her entrance into this world. It was a bit hard for her to adjust to not being the only child at first but it's obvious now how much she loves her little sister. We went to spend the day with them in Nottingham yesterday which was long overdue. I feel a bit guilty at times because I've spent so much time with Daisy since the day she came along, yet yesterday was only the 4th time I've seen Chloe... I hope as time goes on I get to have a similar relationship with her as well... Provided Miss Daisy doesn't mind too much that is. At the moment It would seem that I'm still one of her best friends. After Molly of course. 

I can't let you go. Not yet anyway...

It's almost the middle of July and I have been completely neglectful with posting again. For those of you have still checked in from time to time to see what might be going on I'm thankful. I keep having debates with myself regarding I Drank the Whole Bottle and whether its an avenue I want to pursue any longer.  I keep telling myself that this is meant for me more than anyone else, however every year my posts become increasingly lower in numbers.  It's not because I have nothing to say or any photos to post but more the fact that I share my stories via other forms of social media that negates tons more feedback.  Not that feedback should matter that much.  It's not like I thrive on the validation, yet it is always nice to know you are still popping round.   

As he often does when I've been remiss in posting, my husband asked if I I'd done a post recently to which my reply was 'Nah, I think I'm going to relinquish it for now'.  He seemed dismayed by this and the moment I said it, I know I was too.  It's hard to let go of something that has been with you for over 10 years and The Bottle has been my comfort blanket for the past decade (that sounds so wrong... I love my wine and although it can be very comforting, I am referring to this blog)  If nothing, I love being able to look back over the forgone years and read/see the journal of my life. So here I am again, not quite willing to let go completely. I'd miss it too much. And I'd miss those of you who do stick around. Besides, nothing allows me the freedom to express my feelings and share the story of my life, the way this does. So for now, the bottle will stay open and I will continue to ramble with my prose.  

This past week I've been participating in the 5 Day Eating Challenge and have been loving the posts, banter and encouragement shared with the other fab women doing this too. I'm enjoying trying new recipes (many with my new Spirilizer - I will tell you about that in another post - because I'm in love with it.) So far I have been successful; as it's the last day, I think I can say I've been 100% successful actually, however as my exercise has been almost not existent other than long walks, I don't think I've lost a pound.  However there is always next week; It's not like I'm going to start eating tons of junk food just because the challenge is ending today. I've met lots of great ladies who are constantly sharing healthy food recipes and links to great websites.  As we all know, this has to be a lifestyle if we want to remain healthy.

Also, since I didn't bother to relay the amazing time Andy and I had on the beautiful Island of Skiathos, I will leave you with a few photos: 

Up at the old town, Kastro - the scenery was stunning.

Enjoying a day out on the boat we hired (we didn't spot any dolphins on this outing either, however we were told by a couple in another boat that a few were following us at one point!)

Chilling by the gorgeous pool at our hotel.

Lots of beautiful beaches, however more crowded then we expected 

(not that you can see from this photo) 

Pretty boats in the harbour :) 

Loved stopping for a lunch of Mythos (and salad too of course ;) 

We didn't discover how good the cocktail taverna's were until the last evening... so a great reason to re-visit Skiathos Town again.

Yamas! 

Perspective

Monday's aren't my favourite day of the week for a multitude of reasons.  I did however wake up this past Monday in a bright mood, which doesn't always happen.  Rarely in fact. Then as I was getting ready for work I realised my hair straightener wasn't warming up but my mood didn't sour.  I had a momentary minute of panic before I decided to just throw my hair up in a bun and get on with it.  On the drive to work, the drivers side windscreen wiper decided to fling itself onto the hood of my car.  I pulled over and tried to click it back in place to the best of my ability, yet it was clear to me that it was broken and would need replacing.  During the rest of the drive I only turned the wipers on randomly to ensure I didn't lose it again, as a soft rain was falling and I couldn't drive without it.  And still I didn't get stressed out.  There was nothing I could do about it. I only needed to remind myself it wasn't that big of a deal;  because there are mother's in this world who are still dying in childbirth due to inadequate medical care, or people who have to walk miles to the nearest well for fresh drinking water for their children. I could list a whole multitude of reasons why I really didn't have an excuse to get upset over what was essentially nothing.

A couple of times this week I have seen Facebook statuses where people are making a huge fuss that their wifi has dropped out, or that they've had to queue for 15 minutes at the grocery store, or that traffic has been a nightmare.  I get that people in our very fortunate world have legit problems and concerns but I'm sorry, I'm not going to sympathise and feel for you if your biggest complaint of the day is that the server at the movie theatre didn't put enough ice in your diet coke (yes, I've complained about that one before). Get over it.  We have so much in our day to day lives that we need to be grateful for and remember when we start to sweat the small stuff.   

If you have a family who loves you, a roof over your head, enough money to eat and pay the bills with and friends to share your tears and laughter with then you have already have more than so many people in this world.

It doesn't hurt to just take a moment and remember this, especially when it feels like everything is spinning out of control. Maybe if I hadn't woken up feeling so optimistic on Monday I might have felt more stressed.  I get that we all have bad days, me included.  Just lately though I've been telling myself that life could be so much worse and I don't want to lose it over 'the small stuff' and so far, it's been working (for the most part.)

For the past two weeks its been raining almost non-stop and during the moments that it's not been chucking it down Molly and I have still been able to get our for a walk (she doesn't like getting wet any more than I do). She loves all the fresh smells that come out after a rain and me? I enjoy watching her explore and seeing all the pretty wild flowers that have sprung up.   

It's the little moments that really matter. 

When something as boring yet necessary as breathing gets in the way....

Thursday at work I had to ring one of the secretaries at the adult mental health team; after we talked business we got down to more important issues such as summer holiday plans, our kids and of course a plan to hopefully meet up soon over a few glasses of wine; she is after all one of my good friends. (Dee is not only an efficient and brilliant PA but also an amazing cake designer - you must remember the awesome Superdry cake she made for Alex's 21st?). At some point in the conversation Dee mentioned how well I've been doing at running. In the past few weeks I've been hearing lots of positive feedback over my 'running', which only makes the fact that I haven't been out in almost two weeks even more annoying. 

I was just getting my groove on with this running lark again when Mother Nature lobbed a soft ball at me that whacked me straight in the chest. For years I have been proud of my commitment to difficult workouts and even more recently that I have also been running for over 30 minutes. Not a major feat for some, and you might laugh if you have run a marathon or two, but considering I've had asthma most of my life, I will mark my pathetic little jaunts as an achievement. 

(Quite proud of myself after a rainy run with Molly) 

So about this breathing issue... I went out two Sundays ago and although I had just run on the Saturday I went for it; not five minutes in my chest was screaming at me due to all the rape seed and other annoying aromatic weeds that spring up here round this time of year, yet I carried on. I was (slowly)running against the high winds and I'm not sure that I would have continued if I wasn't accompanied by my young running partner Jess. It was one of those runs that just didn't feel right, and even when it was over I didn't feel the rush of accomplishment I normally do. I was to busy trying not to die while I found one of my six inhalers. Of course I got my breathing sorted and get this, it only took a few days! However I am a pro at this remember (the asthma, not the running). However just the slightest bit of exertion still becomes uncomfortable and makes my chest prove its unwillingness to cooperate. It's frustrating especially in light of the fact we are heading back out to Greece in a few weeks and I wanted to be a bit more fit than I currently am. I did manage a workout once last week and if I don't go walking through the fields (kind of hard to avoid when there isn't just one, but *two labs that need their exercise as well). I reckon I should be able to get back on track with my Ripped in 30 program. That's provided my back and hip continue to cooperate and not trip me up like in recent months. Oh the perks of being a 40 year old asthmatic with bad joints. It is what it is though and like always I will work thorough it. It could be a lot worse. 

Its a three day weekend here in England and we plan to make the best of it been despite the forecast for rain. I hope you are enjoying your weekend and that you are doing something that makes your heart happy. I'm off to get dressed and take the dogs out with Andy. 

I plan to spend the rest of my weekend doing whatever I feel like, be it something or nothing. 

* We currently have the cantankerous but loveable old boy Carter stopping with us while Dawn & Rob are soaking up the rays in Ibiza. 

The best gift she gave me

First of all I will apologise for promising to be back just after Jayden's 2nd Birthday and Easter with pictures and a tale to tell of what we all got up to.  Life became a bit hectic again and time just ran away from me. I'm back now and will hopefully not stay away so long.

So.

Yesterday was Canadian Mother's Day;  I made sure that I rang my Mom to tell her how much I love her and miss her and hoped she had a lovely day.  I apologised that her card might be a few days late, however she already knew that it wouldn't be on time as I'd told her in an earlier conversation that week.  I love it that Mom and I talk at least four days out of the seven in a week.  Depending what's happening in our lives, we can sometimes talk every day.  I love this.  I don't know if living so far away from her would have been as bearable 20 years ago when phone calls were much more expensive.  Now that we have Skype and Facetime, it's so much better. I love that whenever Jayden sees the I-pad he says 'Nanny?'.  (We actually have a Skype date with Mom this evening).

In honour of yesterday being Mother's Day, I'm going to publish a re-post from 2010; My mother has given me enough love, understanding, support and friendship to see me through the rest of my life, however the best gift she has ever given me was the siblings who followed me. So thank you Mom, for not only being everything that you are, but for giving me the gift of three little sisters and a brother.  It might not have always seemed it but I love being the eldest of this eclectic group of people. 

And then there was five...
Initially published in June 2010

When my Mom had me she wasn’t married to my dad. For all accounts it was just me and her (and a gaggle of aunts who seemingly fought over me). It was a very real possibility that I might end up being an only child. However that was not to be.

When I was two and a half, mom married dad and a few months later came the arrival of my sister Tawny. I think she was a prettier baby than me, with dark curly hair and big brown eyes. Mom said I wasn’t a jealous big sister and I was happy to share with her although there were apparently times when I did give her the odd pinch (sorry!); more often than not I was pleased about the baby, so much so that once mom found me trying to stuff her into my doll’s crib – my own baby. Tawny was creative and agreeable, often following me from place to place – once following me out of the apartment at 7 am on a Saturday morning in our night dresses; another time she packed her bags with me to run God knows where when we were visiting our Nan one summer when I was eight and she was six; Thank goodness she wizened up to following me around – I was going nowhere fast evidently!

A few years later came another sister during my parent’s quest to have a son. Because Sandra has never conformed, it was only logical that she was not a boy. She had red hair and a fiery personality to match. Unlike Tawny and I, she wasn’t so agreeable and certainly marched to her own drummer, strong and independent. She was quick to say I hate you, but even quicker to say I love you.  Sandra definitely threw some variety into the mix. When there is a crisis, she's always there.

Finally, when I was nine, mom successfully gave my father his namesake. Turns out though, that John with his big liquid brown eyes and disgustingly beautiful long lashes shares only his name with dad; From all that Mom has told us, I believe he is much more in nature like our maternal grand-father than our own dad. John is obviously a man that grew up surrounded by females: he is quiet, gentle, respectful and knows when to disappear. If he ever marries he will have one lucky wife.

That was supposed to be it.

Although we had moved from an apartment to a house after dad left the navy, I was still sharing a room with my two sisters when at the age of 11, mom made the proclamation that there would be one more. I freaked out. I knew it would be a girl and that there would be four of us crammed into one little room.

But I was wrong (and right):

Mom and Dad built Tawny and I a room of our own downstairs and the following May came our very last sister. My parents had promised I could name the dark-haired baby with the pretty birth mark on her cheek and I chose Stacy (she is so not a Jennifer or Susan – what my father wanted). Because I was 12 and by then very used to babies, having had lots of practice with John and my cousins, mom let me have almost free reign with Stacy. She kind of became my own baby and rather than put her into a doll’s carriage, mom let me take her for long walks in her pram. I used to love taking our sweet natured little sister, with the softest voice you can imagine out for walks and to my school to show her off. By the time she was a toddler Tawny and I were spoiling her at every chance we could. She was our baby – she still is in so many ways although now a beautiful, confident young woman.

We are now all grown and settling into our adult lives. Most of us remain close, friends even, although a few of us are very far apart in geographical terms. We’ve had the usual family fall-outs but we always manage to pull together; Never more so than these last few months of mom’s illness.

I was watching Sense and Sensibility the other night (one of my favourite Austin adaptations) and it got me thinking about the relationships between siblings, sisters especially. How fortunate are we to have this incredible bond that will last us a lifetime no matter what is thrown at us?  I adore our amazing and flawed tribe and I couldn’t imagine what my life would have been like without them. Sure we have had our differences and I’m certain there are a few more brewing on the horizon, but we always recover and come back to what’s important – the friendships, the laughter, the love.

Stacy, Sandra, John, Me and Tawny (with our Clara on board)

(Goodness have us girls  lost weight since then - John of course looks just as fit as he always does).

Our Little Golden Girl

Somehow it only seems like yesterday when Andy, my sister and I went to look at the two week old puppy that would be ours as soon as she was old enough to leave her mother. 

It was love at first sight for all of us. 

We drove home that day tossing lots of names around, some really cool however she was a Molly for me, right from the start. (Who knew that every 3rd lab we came across would share the name; yet it doesn't matter because she is such a Molly.)

She was even more adorable when we brought her home after our honeymoon at ten weeks old :) 

Although she was a typical lab and loved to chew everything in sight, she tried very hard to be a good girl; and succeeded most of the time. 

What a brilliant dog she grew to be. She is such a good girl with just the right amount of quirkiness to make her personality shine. 

Today, she turns 9. That's apparently 63 in dog years which puts her at a similar age to my mom - a bonafide senior. However like my mom she shows minimal sighns of slowing down and is still very active. A few times a week she still gets 'her crazy on' - when she races around in circles at full speed, teasing and wanting to play some more. Long may it continue as she enjoys her golden years. 

Quite frankly, she is incredible. 

Happy Bithday to our old girl. You will always be the best gift I have ever received. 

The Rundown

I thought it was high time I dropped you a line to say that I'm still around and that no, I haven't completely given up on this whole sharing a component of my world with you just yet. I wish I had the drive to post a bit more often and this time round I don't even have a good excuse. Well that's not completely true. I have been extremely busy reading other blogs, mainly of the culinary variety. Lately I've been on a real baking kick, ever since St Paddy's Day (which was ironically my last post).  Work has been busy too, especially as I missed a few days due to a bad cold, however in reality I'm just making up excuses. 

Seriously though. Here is the rundown on what's been keeping me preoccupied: 

1. Trying to replicate pretty but tasty recipes I've been finding from some amazing food bloggers

 

  Neither of these were nearly as pretty as the original's but they were tasty. 

2. Going on a few hikes with Andy and the dogs (we've had Carter to stay a few weekends this spring. 

During our 9.5 mile hike through the surrounding villages last weekend, we came across the neatest little 'lending library': 

3. I have cheerfully been getting the house sorted for spring and of course Easter, which I love. We have a busy weekend planned over the holiday for a number of reasons, including Jayden's 2nd birthday. I know!  I don't know where the time has gone. I will make sure to pop back before the month is behind us to share photos and a tale or two.

I love the abundance of tulips this time of year brings.

Oh, and I almost forgot... There is one thing that is proving rather distracting; some of you need your fix from medical dramas, The Bachelor, hell maybe even some version of Housewives of who cares. Me? Well my fix for the next month or two is... Masterchef. 

If I'm not back before the weekend, Happy Easter! 

Shamrock Cookies & Chocolate Guiness Cupcakes

Over the past few weeks it seems like the never ending rains of winter have decided to take a hiatus;  Maybe mother nature is playing a vicious trick and before we know it the skies will open up again and the temperatures drop back to zero.  I hope not because Spring seems to have sprung around here and with the longer days (even though we haven't yet put our clock's ahead) life is seeming a whole lot brighter in general.

Over the past few weekends I haven't wanted to do a whole lot other than spend time pottering about the house, go on long walks with Molly (especially now that the fields aren't a quagmire) and squeeze in a few workouts.  I don't know about you but I feel so much better when I've done something that makes me really sweat.

I didn't want this past weekend to end (do I ever) although today I'm feeling much better than I normally do on a Monday as I was up and out of the house at 6:00 am for a run with Molly.  It was hard getting out of bed but it felt so good to be out at dawn getting in my fix of exercise.

On Friday night Jayden came to sleep over;  he was staying with us as his Dad was going to Nottingham and his mum had to work all day Saturday. I've probably said it a dozen times but our little man is such a joy to look after, he is just so chilled and easy going. Case in point: on Saturday he slept for almost three hours, thus giving me time to to get some baking done, hang out a load of laundry, work out and make lunch... all before I gave in and woke him up.

Buttermilk biscuits with home-made jam... yum 

(just one reason why I need to work out)

After Jayden woke up and had some lunch on Saturday, Andy and I took him down to the sea-front.  It was a bit chilly with the wind but we still had fun.

Grandy should have had his sunglasses on, but I still love this snap:

On Sunday morning I got up to finish my St Paddy's Day baking;  I had made and decorated nearly 100 shamrock cookies on Friday, however I wanted to get my Guinness cupcakes with Bailey's cream icing made as well. (It's hard going resisting these which is why I give them away).

I also wanted to get dinner prepped as Beryl was coming over.  I was doing a pork-tenderloin marinated in a olive-oil/garlic and soy-sauce blend with a ton of fresh herbs... 

I love having fresh herbs to hand; I love keeping these on my windowsill - it just looks and smells like spring :) My rosemary, chives and parsley are planted outside.

Nothing smells better than fresh chopped herbs don't you think?

However the big disappointment of the weekend occurred yesterday afternoon when I was checking to see how my roast potatoes were coming along and realised the element in my oven was gone again and it wasn't emitting any heat.  Just what I needed;  this is doubly annoying as it is the 2nd time this has happened when I was cooking for company.  Our solution was to go pick Beryl up and treat her to a meal out which was nice,but I think I would have enjoyed my dinner more.  Just saying.

Well, that's my weekly wrap up.  

Oh, and Happy St Patrick's Day.  

I know not everyone celebrates, but I love to celebrate it even though no one locally seems to make much fuss of it.  I can't help it, it's such a strong part of my heritage.  Yes I'm Canadian, however a large majority of Nova Scotian's celebrate St Paddy's Day.  Besides, when I descend from this crowd it's understandable that the Irish Whisky runs through my blood.

My aunts (and a lot of the family) always seem to whoop it up on Ireland's National Holiday - any old excuse really ;) I really miss them at times like these! 

So again, Happy St Paddy's Day

May your blessings outnumber

The shamrocks that grow, 

And may trouble avoid you

Wherever you go. 

Weekly Wrap Up

Every week I keep telling myself I really need to find the time to post;  finally I'm making that time and am realising that it's been nearly a month since my last.  Hmmmm so much for my resolution to post more and surpass my yearly totol.  It's only March and already I'm off to a bad start. Does it really matter? Who knows.  I thought it mattered to me, but obviously not enough.  I can't even plead that I'm too busy because I'm not.  Bah, never mind, it is what it is.  

I will save you the boredom of a monthly up date and give you the weekly run down, which goes something like this:

Although I'm not overly busy in my personal life, work has been incredibly busy which is probably the real reason I haven't been posting, as I will often find time to do so when I'm having my lunch. These days I just want 20 minutes to read my book as I scarf down a salad. I took last Friday and Monday off and enjoyed a four day weekend which then meant I've had to spend the last four days making up for it. 

Last Friday morning was gorgeous and I had Jayden for the day so I took him and Molly over to the park for most of the morning. I don't know who loved it more out of the three of us. Both Jayden and I certainly loved watching Moll bound in and out of the woods like a pup as she was chasing squirrels. 

I spent the rest of the weekend cooking and baking, which I haven't done in a long time. 

On Tuesday I invited Alex, Bonnie and Jayden over for pancakes however shortly after I got home from work there was a power cut so sadly pancakes didn't happen. The electric board sent a few guys around later in the evening who then called in the guys with a jack hammer and by about 12 am we were rigged up with temporary power until they could get back the next day and sort it. The power cables are underground here so it was an awfully big job to reconnect the power for six houses! At least when they are underground it means our electrics aren't at the mercy of the weather - with the high winds we are always experiencing in this area its a definite bonus. 

On Wednesday after a lot of debating with myself, I made the decision to give up wine for Lent. Sure I could have picked chocolate or cake but just in case you aren't in the know, Lent is about sacrificing something we love and that will challenge us. As I type this now I'm not craving chocolate, I'm wishing I had a cold glass of Pinot Grigio beside me. I will probably wish for the same thing when I run my bath later. So yes, this Lent I will be challenged. Much the same as last year. 

As some of you may be aware, yesterday was World Book Day and I was thrilled that Jayden's nursery was participating. I happened to have him overnight on Wednesday so was delighted to get him ready yesterday morning. 

Is he not the cutest Gruffalo ever? 

Which brings us to Friday. It's been a good week but I'm glad to have two full days off in which I have nothing planned but walking Molly and perhaps getting in a workout. 

Oh, and Andy and I just finished booking a holiday in Skiathos this June. We had hoped to go to Newfoundland in the spring but a joint trans-Atlantic trip just isn't in the budget this year. We will make that journey next spring. So for now we have ten days in the sun to look forward to and thankfully it won't be Lent when we are there :)

Love Hearts say it Best

Every year, for as long as I can remember my mother has been sending me a Valentine's Day card.  In recent years this has extended to both Andy and myself which I think is so sweet. Mom has always taught us that Valentine's, although traditionally a day for lovers is not only about lovers.  It's about love.  All the various types of love.  It may just be because of this that I was never the girl who whined about being on my own at Valentine's;  I always felt treasured and loved and not just on Valentine's; Besides it is after all just one day,  which is great if you have someone to make a fuss over it but certainly not the end of the world if you are without a lover.   It's only one day. 

The fact that I've married a man who tends to be more saccharine than me on Valentine's is ironic, especially since it's not been as popular in the UK until more recently.  Either way Andy seems to enjoy Valentines and enjoys expressing his love for me on this day in various different ways.  For our first Valentine's we weren't together as we lived in different countries yet he had  flowers and a beautiful gift sent to me.  A few years ago he arranged a scavenger hunt that ended up with me arriving at Greek restaurant to find him waiting for me all suited up and bearing a gorgeous bracelet. He wasn't even supposed to be in town that night.  

As much as I love these romantic gestures I'm always telling him that he doesn't need to do all that; it's money that we don't need to spend. However at the same time I appreciate that he works hard and that he loves being in love, especially with me.  And I love it really.  Roll your eyes over the sappiness of it all if you will but hey, it is Valentine's Day and I do have a lover, so what did you expect?

Today I  received a gorgeous bouquet of long stemmed red roses.  The delivered kind.  The kind that I always tell him not to buy me on Valentines because the mark up is ridiculous But then I think of one of my best friends whose birthday is today and how her boyfriend always used to send her birthday flowers the day after Valentine's because of the price and I realise that it's actually quite lovely to receive flowers at the office on Valentines and know that he's thinking of me.

So no, I don't like to 'buy' into the materialistic aspect of days like today; however my husband needn't worry that I've lost all interest in celebrating it because when he makes it home this evening I can assure you he will be appreciative of what I have planned.  Here's a hint: the blinds will be shut, the doors will be locked and the house has been declared 'no go zone' for the kids (a warning text that I'm sure the kids puked a little over). The wine is chilling and I will spare you the details of what else is on the menu.

Either way, I do know how to celebrate Valentine's and I'm grateful to have a man that I adore and who still turns me on after nearly 10 years of marriage.   

I hope you all have a loved up day no matter what type of love that may be; failing that, there is always chocolate. And wine.  

Tuesdays with Tasha

For those of you who know me personally, you will know that historically my relationship with Andy's eldest child and only daughter Natasha has not always been the easiest.  If you've been dropping in occasionally to read my posts, especially in the years pre-2010 you might have been able to surmise this for yourself if only because prior to that year I didn't often make reference to her.  I might have made a passing comment in the very early years when she would pop in and out of lives but for the most part I thought it was better to refrain from mentioning Tasha because as I've said, it was a tumultuous time. I use this forum to chronicle my life story, however there are aspects that are private and not for sharing especially in relation to members of my family.

So I had this life with my husband and his two sons where occasionally Tasha would pop in to see her dad or partake in family events.  I could see through her efforts to be polite and knew she barely tolerated me and would have much preferred if I'd fallen off the face of the planet.  In her defence, Tasha was only 12 when her parents legitimately split up, which would have been hard enough at her age however she was also faced with the prospect of my  arrival in England shortly thereafter. It was messy and hard enough for me to accept at times, never mind a hormonal 12 year old who thought she was going on 30.

All of that is history now and for the past three years Tasha and I have been slowly building a relationship; Since she has graduated from university with a foundation degree in law, she has matured in leaps and bounds.  I always thought that with time she and I could be friends however I was hesitant to believe that I would ever feel for her what I do for the boys; after all they have been a constant in my life since the day I met them.  I don't think I'm the only who is slightly astonished that we have become much more than friends and that I have come to love my husband's daughter every bit as much as his boys.  I know it means the world to Andy that Tasha and I now have a good relationship.  One that has progressed to the point where Tasha will ring me when she's upset or needs advice.  I can't help but smile when she's ringing off a phone call and says rather offhandedly that she loves me.  How times have changed.

Tasha recently moved into a house with her boyfriend in Lincoln.  As she has to travel nearly an hour each way to work and does overtime on a Tuesday evening, she has begun staying with me one night a week.   Molly and I enjoy having her company on Tuesday nights and I especially enjoy our chats on the drive to work the next morning. Last week as I was dropping her off we laughed about how far we have come from the days when it was much less than 'perfect' between us.  She reflected on how she used to 'plot various ways of breaking me and her dad up'.  We both grinned and laughed about how pleased we are that she was unsuccessful in her attempts.

I've been known to say many times that I'm not her mother.  I have never, ever tried to fulfil that role in her or her brothers lives - they have a mum. What I am is proud to be her step-mom and most importantly her friend and I hope that never changes.  

The one with all the wedding dresses

A friend at work (Tina) got married this past December and in the weeks leading up to her wedding there was naturally a lot of discussion about her upcoming nuptials (in between all the work we were managing to achieve of course). On one of these occasions we were in the office with Tina chatting about ' the dress' when Alison and I began reminiscing about our our own wedding dresses.  You know the drill if you've been there... the colour and style, was it bought or hand-made, oh yes, and does it still fit. We also got to to talking about how it's kind of sad that the most gorgeous and important dress we will ever wear only gets to be worn once, twice if the bride has her wedding and reception on a different day.

Alison and I who have been married for quite some time now (Andy and I are in our 10th year of marriage) began discussing what we had done with our wedding dresses.  Like many other responsible brides, Alison had hers dry cleaned and boxed up; she was fairly certain, but a little doubtful that it would still fit.  Me?  Well I had left mine at my mother's in Nova Scotia but had plans to bring it back when Andy and I travelled home after New Year.  I knew mine still fit me because I've had it on more than once since 2004.  No, I haven't exactly worn it, its just almost every time sometimes when I've been home I've taken it from its protective bag and put it on.  Trying it on is not the same as wearing it though. It's not.  I won't apologise for loving my dress.  And I wasn't even a bridezilla; my sister had to coax me a little bit to get a proper wedding dress.  But I'm digressing as usual.

When I mentioned that I was bringing the dress back to the UK and would likely have it cleaned and boxed up, not to be tried on again for possibly years, Tina suggested we should have a wedding dress party.  Well to cut a long story short Alison and I loved the idea. Shake your head if you will.  I completely understand if I've now lost you forever because you think I'm certifiably nuts and I'm sorry to see you go.   What I'm not sorry for?  That my friends and I decided to have a party to wear the one dress that has made us feel more beautiful than any other dress we own, the dress that we chose for the most important day of our lives. The one dress that made it all about us.  A few other girls at work jumped on board with the idea (some quicker than others) however a few who wanted to partake couldn't (for a variety of reasons).  Either way, we have been asked to do this again.  Maybe we will, maybe we won't.  Either way we had a grand old time parading around like a bunch of deluded brides. But we looked good and we felt great (especially for the two of us who have been married for years and can still fit into the dress, and yes it matters, if only a little bit).

Were we sadder than a particular trio of single girls who sat around in rented wedding dresses?  I don't think so but you can be your own judge of that.

I personally think it was a brilliant idea for an entertaining evening with my girlfriends, from the moment we all got dressed together; even Em, whose wedding dress was long gone yet she still looked lovely in her black maxi-dress.

Because as a great friend of mine commented when she saw the photos: 'What girl doesn't want to wear that dress again?

And we were even better after a bottle of Tall Ship

I'm going to tell you a little story about the day I went skiing.  Yes, you've read this correctly. Not the day that I went to the ski hills and managed to slam into my sister Sandra as I attempted to fall ski down a very scary, ice filled hill;  nor the day that my 17 year old self took off my skis and ran clumsily down the hill whilst attempting to keep two very long skis and two poles from slipping out of my grip; and especially not the day I mistakenly agreed to ride the chair lift to the top of the hill only to get left on it by my best friend  and sister who had promised to ensure I got off OK. (I thus had to endure the embarrassment of riding that chair lift back down the hill - I suppose it's a bonus that I'm quiet adept at dealing with humiliating moments.Yes, I can laugh at myself. However that experience has ensured that even though I've finally got the hang of skiing, I will be sticking to the T-Bars only.)

So let me tell you all about it, if you don't mind indulging me here.  I went skiing people and I didn't fall, or slam into anyone (well not on the ski slope anyway).I could surmise that the reason for this could quite possibly be that at the age of 40 I'm much fitter than any other time I've attempted to ski (including the school trip when I was 17).  Add to this that for the first time I had a patient and good skier with me (my cousin Jennifer) who took the time to teach us the basics and didn't rush off to ski herself almost straight away. Or maybe it because Andy and Stacy were both with me (also novices) and ended up being my good luck charms.  Although in the end I think it was because I had Stacy, who was as nervous as I was to try skiing again, with me every step of the way  (Sandra and our brother John are the skiers in our bunch.) Andy actually had only an inkling of what he was facing as he'd never tried it before.

On that bright Saturday morning there was some confusion as we all headed out to Martock.  Lines got crossed along the way and some of us thought we were going to go cross country, some hoped we would be snowboarding and myself?  Well I figured I would have been safest sitting in the lodge drinking beer.

In the end we all decided to give downhill a go.  Jen is a pretty good skier; Wayne not so much. Stacy and I had a wee argument over snowboard versus skis that I won. (I just couldn't get my head around both feet being strapped down on one board and I didn't think my knees and back could cope with the maneuvers required to snowboard.) Andy, well he was just keen to get on the bunny hill and give it a try.

All geared up to hit the hills: 

My man was looking pretty hot in his ski gear :) 

We had a basic lesson from Jen before we all grabbed hold of the rope that would pull us up the bunny hill.  So far so good right?  Yup; well for everybody else but me. I'm the fool that made the mistake of wearing fingerless gloves without the mitten bit covering my fingers.  That rope moves fast and quickly started burning blisters onto my fingers almost immediately.  I was only halfway up when I started losing grip and despite my sister yelling at me to 'don't you dare let go I'm right behind you!', I let go and ended up laying in the middle of both tow ropes... great. Another humiliating moment for me.  Somehow Stacy managed to hold on and get past me and I was left trying to figure out how I was going to scoot through the skiers and get back up (why the controller didn't just stop the ropes is beyond me).  I managed to succeed in crossing the ropes without knocking anyone down or having to take my skies off, (not the easiest feat when one can't just roll over) however getting back up was a problem because I let my fear from previous ski trips overwhelm me.  I sat there thinking what an idiot I must look in my bright green jacket when a gentleman came along and offered me a hand up.  I gratefully and bashfully took it and decided that for once, I was going to overcome my fear of falling, figure out how to just do it, and if not at least how to get my skis on and off myself.

Wayne and Jen mastering the tow rope:

Looking good while stationary: 

Realizing it's not as easy as it looks, but looking adorable all the same:

Both Stacy and I got a grip on the bunny hill and decided to try the big girl hill.  I waved goodbye to both Wayne and Andy as they had both decided to give their backsides a rest and nurse beers in the lodge and headed for the t-bar lift with Stacy. Andy figures if he had a few hours with a private instructor he might be able to get the hang of it.  This is something that we can definitely look at should we ever try skiing again.  Wayne's health just wasn't compatible to the sport that day.

Riding the t-bar (yes while taking photos.  My sister is that good)

We made it up the t-bar, despite Stacy's understandable unease about sharing a ride up the hill with her clumsy ass sister me.  And then we went for it.  We skied.  Not quickly, not gracefully but we skied.  Jen caught up with us a once or twice and joined in with our amusement and before long, we were actually enjoying ourselves. I knew Stacy was having fun and relaxing into it the moment I heard her humming her way down the hill behind me. Stacy does that you know, hums (or makes other strange noises) when she is happy.

In between the skiing we did pop into the lodge for a beer and something to eat before heading out for one or two more trips up the hill.  I know Andy might have been disappointed because he didn't manage to ski, but I also know he was pleased for me when he said the smile on my face at the end of the day made it worth it.  Besides, as we said, it was only his first attempt (my fourth) and he can now say he's at least tried it and can cross it off his list.  

The boys sitting comfortably in the bar

I do love this big guy: 

Two of my very favs looking great:  

Happy with my cousins: 

Either way I was proud of all of us that day.  We tried something that was way out of our comfort zone which is something a lot of people won't even consider and Jen was a better teacher than all the rest who've attempted to get me on a slope. (I'm not even sorry for saying that Catherine ;)  Also, the fact that I did it successfully with my baby sister made it all the more exhilarating.

How impressed with ourselves do we look?

The moment that I skied down the hill without falling or hitting someone has completely trumped all the disastrous moments that have gone before. Even getting stuck between the tow ropes and especially being stuck on the chair lift.  Bah, it's those moments that make for a story great anyway right? Yes, even if it is at my own expense.

I skied and that's enough to keep me smiling through the rest of winter.  Bring on the next winter trip to Nova Scotia.  

Although it wasn't perfect it sure was picture perfect

I'm a bit late with this post, however better late than never.  Time at home was spent in real time, rather than virtual :)

To steal from the wise words of a fellow blogger (hi Lara) our Christmas this year was 'a real Christmas'.  Real as in not perfect because as Lara stated, not even Norman Rockwell could have had a Norman Rockwell Christmas every year.

(One of the most perfect photos of our Christmas at home) 

For few days at my mom's there were ten people, two big labs and a cat.  In short it was crazy hectic at times.  We had loads of food and drink and as with any house with that many people crammed into it, some tantrums. Which were ironically not thrown by the charismatic three year old in our midst.

My husband wasn't feeling very well the first week out there and despite feeling this way in a full house, I believe he handled himself with decorum and tact and I was proud to have him with me.  At one point I did take him to a hotel for some rest and privacy, which he desperately needed and I headed back to my parents house for an afternoon of cookie decorating and other activities which were a lot of fun and really put us in the Christmas spirit:

Almost as many cookies were being consumed as decorated, as it should be.

Can you blame him? 

I'm just feeling so blessed that I was able to go home to my mother's house for Christmas with my husband; we had a white Christmas surrounded by the people I spend a lot of the year missing.

Here are a few bunch of pictures that were captured over the holidays

Uncle Reg fetching in the perfect tree :)

Sisters

Christmas Eve jigging

Cuddles

The Christmas Eve Feast 

(Christmas is about eating lots of food together in many homes, not just ours)

 Happy to see each other :) 

Mum and Uncle Reg trying out the pretty hair decorations 

Christmas morning walk in the snow

post Christmas dinner antics 

We enjoyed a couple of outdoor activities as well:

Stacy & Andy hitting the bunny hill at Ski Martock (this experience really necessitates it own post!)

(Me with my cousins Wayne and Jen)

And of course we had to try out the Oval, a free ice-skating rink in the centre of the city...

(Me, Stacy and Paula - baby it was cold outside that day!)

I'm going to again plagiarise someone else with a simplified version of a quote I recently read and choose to remember: 'Although life can be a series of disastrous and painful moments that can break your heart, in between those moments you savour, savour, savour.'  

Such as this moment, that I adored (I can't find the picture with my mother in it, but she was there):

And savour our time together is exactly what I did this Christmas past.  At times it was like something out of a Christmas film (both the good and not so good) and although it wasn't the perfect ending some had hoped for, me and my husband had a lot of fun at home with my family and I was so happy to be able to be with my mother and sister who have been waiting for a family Christmas for years.