A Lyrical Little Country

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Canada Day BBQ 2011

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

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

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

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

Dawn and John

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

Me and my baby brother

Beautiful Madelana

Competitive Andy R

Zoe, Tasha and Wendy

 Me and the Gallivan Girls:

Around the Fire Pit

Tasha and Andy:

Jayne, Dee and Me ;)

Den and his sausage :)

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

This is a cool one of Rodders 


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

Jupiter's Cock

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


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

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

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

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

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

Keep the good times rolling

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

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

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

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

John and Connor on the London Eye:

At Cafe Rouge:

 On Tower Bridge:

We celebrated Tasha's 21st Birthday on Saturday:

John and Archie riding the train Archie constructed:

Champagne and a hottub:

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

it was a fantastic day:

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

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

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

The initial prep:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The result was absolutely amazing!

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

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

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

Not bad for a Saturday night eh?

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

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Last year, July 2010:

Giving the kids a little fun!

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

Get me off this bumpy ride...

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wanna go far away...

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

Myrtos Beach - Kefalonia

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

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

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

Garbis Villas - where we love to stay...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Malham Cove

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

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

The boys, heading into the Gordale Scar:

Me & Dawn

Cameron, Connor, Me and Dawn

Gordale Scar (much more impressive in reality):

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

Taking a coffee break:

Me and Dawn:

And because I love this one so much,

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

Can't wait for the next hike!

Fortuitous

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


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

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

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

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

Angry All The Time...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Followed Her Around

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beautiful Halifax, Nova Scotia

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

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

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

I loved that day, even if it is stereotypical. 

Day 25: One of Your Most Prized Possessions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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