Superman must have been a good omen

It might be a cliche, but I have to be truthful here: My wedding day was one of the happiest days of my life.

It wasn't stressful or full of pressure the way a lot of weddings can be; I mean what bride would not have a sylist booked months in advance and spend the glorious morning of her wedding walking around town with her sisters and friends laughing and chatting while trying to find a stylist to curl her hair? (I did have a back up plan called Fern, just in case).

I remember opening the door to Cat, who was grinning, two beers in each hand as she announced she was there to paint my nails; and Dawn, sitting in the bathroom window with a big ugly mask on staring down at the guys frolicking in the pool, waiting for them to look up. (Sounds like a wedding straight out the Beverly Hillbillies eh?)

I treasure the moment when mom and the girls were all with me in our room, helping me into my dress and drinking champagne.

I loved the look on my dad's face (and the tears in his eyes) when he saw me in my dress for the first time and proudly walked me past the 75 waiting people in attedance towards a beaming Andy.

I loved saying I do to the best man I have ever known: My husband.

Happy 5th Anniversary Andy.

Because I love words

Today is National Poets Day. In honour of this I will post one of my favourite poems. Feel free to share your favourites with me.

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud
by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

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.