tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948960687547399832024-03-13T10:09:43.719+00:00The Contented MummyAll about the woman behind the mother. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-79926599172818226632014-02-26T19:53:00.000+00:002014-02-26T19:59:26.448+00:00Life With and Without BillToday is the 20th anniversary of the death of the comedian Bill Hicks. One of the most thought-provoking, dark and controversial stand-up performers from the US since the likes of Lenny Bruce, George Carlin and Richard Pryor. <br />
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<a href="http://i1156.photobucket.com/albums/p574/franlavigne/25812_bill_hicks_v2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="h" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kW5NNe6R8ow/Uw5Gu4fybWI/AAAAAAAAAsk/O1fdv8M8V60/s320/25812_bill_hicks_v2.jpg" /></a>The first time I heard Bill Hicks was on a Select Magazine sampler tape, taken from his performance at the Just For Laughs festival in Montreal. We had good stock of satirical or 'alternative' comedy in the UK, a long legacy of boundary-pushing comedians since The Goons or Monty Python. But Bill lit me up like a firework on first listen. He was different. His political and social commentary, flipped on its head and back again, the widely accepted moral approach to life offered by religion and western so-called civilisation. I was not familiar with Lenny Bruce at the time, so he appealed to the albeit quiet and middle class rebel in me, my search for individual identity and rejection of values from my conformist Catholic education.<br />
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Bill personified the counter-culture which rose during the late 80s and early 90s. Many of us completely fatigued and in despair after years of Tory government, destroying the country with capitalist greed. But his routines, with few gags and lengthy 'editorials' - as he termed it - brutally, without apology, cut to the core of hypocrisy and injustice. You could not outright label him politically. His approach to topics such as abortion sympathised with popular feminist views, however, his routine glorifying his use of pornography were inflammatory, if you took him too seriously. <br />
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Now I am a mother, my attitude has changed towards a few parts of his comedy. His somewhat naive stance on drugs, 'I think drugs have done some good things for us. I really do.' plus references to desiring under-age girls sexually, even though meant sarcastic, were uncomfortable - his delivery was not always sarcastic enough. Which is what made him deeply unpopular in the Bible-fevered US mainstream. <br />
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Nevertheless, the vast majority of his doctrine heavily influenced my thinking and how I approach forming an opinion. At least I try! He set the bar. He still make me weep with laughter, even though I am beyond counting how many times I've listened. With a lot of material available on Spotify, I have binge-listened in honour of his memory. He is with his maker (and I sincerely hope it is his version of God) but very much alive in the comedy hall of fame. Thank you Bill, teacher, jester, thorn in the establishment's side.<br />
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Listen to Dangerous on Spotify, probably my favourite. <br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://embed.spotify.com/?uri=spotify:user:1116068699:playlist:2AbhJS4yqwrwRn8wB2VQKz" width="300"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-55605493012741139722014-01-31T11:52:00.002+00:002014-01-31T22:28:11.938+00:00My Cure For A Mid-Life CrisisTurning 40 was not a comfortable time. I was intolerable the days leading up to my actual birthday. Disappointed and angry with anything. The number itself sounded 'old' but moreover, I started to panic about life and whether I had achieved everything I expected to achieve at 40 years of age.<br>
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Of course, my more rational side realises life would not have played out any differently. And the panic has slowly melted away, week by week since then. I'm convinced a cure for a mid-life crisis is a combination of some or all of the following:<br>
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<b>1. Have someone twice your age tell you 'how lucky' you are for perspective. </b>My 91 year old grandmother phoned me on my birthday, 'oh, 40, I loved being 40, it was my favourite age'. Let's hope her good genes have been passed along the family line.<br>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDIXmn03tXU/UlqNUpDwEnI/AAAAAAAAAhE/kvmLi67CAEI/s1600/148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDIXmn03tXU/UlqNUpDwEnI/AAAAAAAAAhE/kvmLi67CAEI/s1600/148.JPG" height="240" width="320"></a><b>2. Surround yourself with silly people (or those with the same sense of humour as you).</b> My circle of friends, which I have cultivated lovingly for years, enjoy the silliness. We love our moments of lacking all seriousness about the smallest of things. We do not have to try hard. Brandishing a jar of the spice cumin at the front door when they arrive at my house, saying 'cum-in' will make us laugh for ever. <br>
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<b>3. Get someone 12 years younger than you to be gobsmacked at your age. </b>While working away from home, I've been staying in the same hotel, which inevitably employs young, casual staff. A post-shift natter turned to the topic of substance absuse. Sounding a little bit stuffy, I declared 'the last time I dabbled in drugs, I was 21 - that's 19 years ago!' I exclaimed. Protest in disbelief ensued. My ego boosted from here until next Tuesday. It's a cheap trick but it works. <br>
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<b>4. R-E-S-P-E-C-T find out what it means for your body. </b>Proving to yourself you can run a marathon at 40, may seem like a mid-life crisis. I don't think you need to take such a drastic step to discover what the 40 year-old body is capable of. I do understand how enormously rewarding it is to break through physical thresholds. For me, it has been a combination of race running but the sensible diet and regular fitness regime came first. And having experienced early warning signs that the body won't last forever, back pain and general joint grumble, I realised it was up to me alone to take control and respect the vessel I am in. <br>
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<b>5. Regale younger people, who will listen, with stories about which live bands you've seen. </b>What
prompted me to write this post, was a conversation about live music.
Wrapped up in the frustration of my career, wishing to be more creative
plus agonising over the fact I have only ever visited two continents,
made me forget that I have had <i>exactly</i> the experiences I wanted.
Between the age of 17 - 35 I consistently bought tickets to see the
bands who have enhanced my life. And listing them out to an enthusiastic
group of music lovers, may have been incredibly self-indulgent but it
jolted me out of my own self-pity.<br>
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<b>6. Repeat the mantra daily: age is but a number. </b>Embrace your passions. Don't try to hard to be someone you are not. Age is a number, not a state of mind.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-17776784142473395572013-11-22T22:04:00.002+00:002013-11-22T23:37:59.342+00:00Happy Birthday Belle AmieOnce upon a time I had a friend. She was a best friend. The kind you shared the growing pains with, who knew what you were thinking, who forgave you for every flaw. Then she died. Unexpectedly and tragically. <br>
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These days, the 14th May passes me by gently, a nod in her direction, as raise of a glass. That's the anniversary of her death. But this year, she would have turned 40 on Sunday 24th November. We were fellow Sagittarius' and November pals. And I cannot help but think about where our lives would be right now if she was still here. Would she love my husband as much as I do, would she dote on my kids, would we still be cynical and have an 'us against the world' mentality? <br>
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When she first came on the primary school scene, it annoyed me there was another Claire in the class. Another Claire! I was the only Claire and everyone loved me. Then she started after Easter and was the bees knees. She'd moved from Scotland and had the accent to match. Everyone was captivated by the new Claire. She invited me to her birthday party, I said no and regretted it as the whole class went and had a fab time. But that did not deter her from becoming my friend. It didn't take us long to become inseparable. When she and her family moved into our cul-de-sac it sealed the deal. <br>
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In school we rarely hung out. I was a slave to superficiality, she would have none of it. I admired that about her, she kept me grounded. She accepted me unconditionally, no matter who I was going out with or what shoes I was wearing. I knew, even through all the teenage fall-outs and power struggles, she would be in my corner. Those teenage years would have been so different without that very strong bond. All through the insecurities with boys, experimenting with alcohol and cigarettes and arguments with our folks, we knew we could cry on each others' shoulders.<br>
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It wasn't all BFF peaches and cream. She wrote in my 5th form leaving book, 'can't live with you, can't live without you.' We were competitive academically and aesthetically (a vein which runs consistently through my friendships, even now) especially in terms of who was more off-beat and fashionable and who had the coolest music tastes. Essentially, we were so similar, it was a futile competition but our young fervent minds were desperate to carve out a unique identity, different to each other. I am sure my parents could not keep track of whether we were talking to each other or not, week on week. <br>
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The one thing we understood was the unconditional love. Even in our early twenties and life was pushing us further apart, she confided, after a particularly challenging situation with friends on a night out, that I was one of the few people she trusted. And aside from my family, I always knew I could go running to her and bare my soul, 100%.<br>
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I am extremely fortunate to have friendships like this now. They have been cultivated carefully over the years, with a lot of effort and energy, with large rewards. They more than fill the hole left by losing Claire.<br>
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It does not stop me from missing my friend and her unique personality. I miss her direct, no frills comments on any given situation. I miss how she would dryly dismiss the crass and banal in this weird and wonderful life. I miss her witty and playful sense of humour and the way she would fold her body in two when she laughed hard. I miss how we could entertain each other for hours, just the two of us, polarising from juvenile jokes to serious philosophising.<br>
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One sunny Yorkshire evening, yes they exist, we were sitting on the stoop of the back to back in which she rented a room. We were talking about life after death. Eerily she told me, she didn't believe in the afterlife, 'it just ends, like a candle being blown out and you are gone.' she stated. Well mate, even if your flame still burns or not, I'll still chat to you, out loud, like the bag lady you said I was destined to become. Cheers and Happy 40th. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-48642555721734935242013-11-08T20:09:00.001+00:002013-11-09T11:47:04.772+00:00Where's The Party<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-22395921586897099302013-10-13T20:45:00.000+01:002013-11-10T20:31:49.284+00:00I Love You, New YorkIn 1999 I visited the Big Apple, with an open mind, for the first time. I left, as many have, a fool in love. And the affair continues to run deep and passionate.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UctCwzo6RN0/UlqMzQ8_q8I/AAAAAAAAAgw/oqRghcdCiiU/s1600/13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UctCwzo6RN0/UlqMzQ8_q8I/AAAAAAAAAgw/oqRghcdCiiU/s320/13.JPG" width="240" /></a>Some of the worst movies and television series have been set in New York and I have watched them all. Just to soak up the city. Having small children and low resources has made it quite difficult to get over there in recent years. So I'll take any hit I can get. Even season 6 of Gossip Girl. Yes, I know.<br />
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The best thing about visiting New York City is, even as a tourist, the city offers more than sights, restaurants, museums and bars. Despite the apparent gentrification of Manhattan, there's still a flicker of the fabric that made the city great in the first place, the rich mixture of cultures from all over the globe. Making a long weekend break in the city that never sleeps, my perfect type of holiday.<br />
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I had always wanted to go for my 40th, which is looming next month, but as this isn't logistically possible, I'm gonna indulge myself on the blog and recount my top New York moments and proving you don't need to spend wads of cash to be amused.<br />
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<b><u>World Trade Centre</u></b><br />
I didn't go up. Having a fear of heights, I decided to leave that excursion to the 'next trip'. Huh! Me and my travel companion lay down on the sidewalk outside to take a picture of each other with the towers in the background. A sort of 6th form photography experiment which paid off. I kept pictures pinned to my cork board and when the first plane went in on 9/11, they were all I could think of. My travel buddy had had the same thought.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDIXmn03tXU/UlqNUpDwEnI/AAAAAAAAAhA/cqqFh6QQk5M/s1600/148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDIXmn03tXU/UlqNUpDwEnI/AAAAAAAAAhA/cqqFh6QQk5M/s320/148.JPG" width="320" /></a><b><u>Happy Noo Year!</u></b><br />
A group of us decided to take a trip to N.Y.C. to celebrate turning 30. We flew out Boxing Day and stayed for a week, seeing in the New Year. It was going to be just like 200 Cigarettes of course, all we needed was to find a hip party in Alphabet City or NoHo. We ended up in a bar in the Lower East Side with a jukebox jammed with the latest raft of N.Y.C. cool tunes, The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and largely ignored band The Roger Sisters. As we tumbled out the bar in the early hours, we heard a male voice call out, 'Happy Noo Year!' in the most New York accent we'd heard the whole trip. Maybe he'd been employed by the tourist board to make visitors feel warm and fluffy inside. <br />
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<b><u><b><u>Staten Island Ferry and Fallopian Tubes</u></b></u></b> <br />
Acting on someone else's travel tip, we took the Staten Island ferry for a lower budget chance to view the island and Statue of Liberty from a boat. The latter was still closed post-9/11, so this was our next best option in our view. If you want to observe a little New York life, sit on that ferry a few times. My friends were followed by a man while boarding, professing, 'Ladies you are fine. You are so fine, I wanna suck the fallopian tubes outta you.' He walked off, posing no further threat but that is possibly the most creepy and disgusting thing I have known anyone to say in my life. While waiting for the return journey, a fight broke out in the queue between two blokes. Safe to say, I never rushed back to do that journey. <br />
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<b><u>Give John Lennon A Chance</u></b> <br />
Unsuspectingly, we 'happened' to be around Strawberry Fields on the anniversary of the John Lennon's death in 2007. We had taken my Nana to New York for a long weekend girls trip and totally splurged on activities. But this was the best and cheapest thing I have ever enjoyed in N.Y.C. We noticed groups of people singing along to a few playing Beatles and Lennon hits on acoustic guitars and were naturally drawn in. Almost everyone who stopped by to watch eventually could not resist belting out a few verses to some of the most famous songs ever written. <br />
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<b><u>Forgeddaboutit</u></b><br />
Johnny Depp memorably explains the use of this Italian-American phrase in Donnie Brascoe and T-Shirts with the slogan were widely sold in tourist areas all over city. One of our travel group proudly purchased the t-shirt from a souvenir store in Little Italy and wore it underneath a jumper on a very bitter walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. We dived into a cafe when we reached the other side, desperate for a hot drink and lunch, the diner looked like something directly from a Martin Scorsese movie. Formica tables, a couple of old Italian looking men nursing coffee and not many other customers. Our so-called friend, roasting in this well-heated establishment, was forced to take off his jumper and reveal his black t-shirt on it written in white block capitals 'Forgeddaboutit' to the whole place. We were mortified. Typically the Brooklynites did not flinch. <b><u><br /></u></b><br />
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<b><u>L.A. Law at CBGB's</u></b><br />
Knowing that the legendary club would be shut down in a matter of weeks, I dragged my travel buddy to the club to experience a piece of music history (also knowing it wasn't at all her scene). It was a harmless evening of hard rock or punk metal, however you wanna term the 'no name' bands on the bill. Sitting at the bar in the half-empty venue, I notice a couple walk in who looked a little out of place, the way they were dressed and the fact they were significantly older than most of the gig-going crowd watching the band. However, as they were greeted by a wide group of people, I realised it was the actors Michael Tucker and Jill Eikenberry. Random, I know, but I made them without a smartphone and Google, having been an avid watcher of L.A. Law in the 80's. I was just drunk enough to walk up, tell them I loved them, tell Jill she looked fabulous (which she did) and ask for their autograph, much to the disgust of their young companion. It turned our their son was playing in one of the no name bands. <br />
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<u><b>Queuing and Not Queuing for the Empire State</b></u>We spent a disproportionate amount of time queuing to go up the Empire State Building in 2003. It the first touristy activity on our agenda, top of everyone's list, A number 1. We amused ourselves while waiting singing renditions of New York themed songs. And no matter how many times we tried to sing the words to Arthur's Theme, we annoyed everyone around us by only managing, 'dum de-de dum, de-de-de dum....dum...New York City'. Four years later, we had an 'in' with the staff, by-passed the queues straight up to the top observation deck. Thus sparing any more tourists from our signing this time round - maybe they knew. <br />
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<b><u>How to Not Stalk Celebs</u></b><br />
I'm sure there's many illusive spots roped off with velvet where you can spot oodles of celebs in N.Y.C., if that's your thing. But it seems there's a good time of year to go and spot stars in plain public view too, in our group's case, the Christmas holidays. Annie Lennox browsing goodies in Duty Free at Heathrow (OK not in New York), Blythe Danner was on our flight, Mary-Louise Parker preggers with her ex, Billy Crudup's, baby, Steve Bing shopping in Soho and our going home star spot at J.F.K.....Minty from Eastenders, who at that stage was a peripheral character, so a good spot at that. <br />
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<b><u>Best of the Rest</u></b><br />
Gourmet food tour of Chelsea, Dirty Martini at the rooftop bar in the Gansevoort, Duke Ellington tribute band at Birdland, mimosas and brunch at Balthazar, Lulu stomping on the 'Big' piano in F.A.O. Schwarz, lunch at Tom's Restaurant pretending to be Elaine Benes, the Christmas Spectacular at the Rockerfella Centre, buggy rides in Central Park and The Nutcracker at the New York City Ballet. I will not be staying away too long. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lady Liberty getting felt up in 2003</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another, less creepy, cuddle in 2007</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-83107838709602559492013-09-09T18:39:00.000+01:002013-09-09T18:51:36.082+01:00Starting School. Holding Hands and My NerveToday my eldest daughter had her first day at school. It went a bit how I expected, as she has recently become sensitive to separation from her parents, which I elaborated on the <a href="http://www.brightonmums.com/starting-school-nerves/" target="_blank">BrightonMums.com blog</a>. The teachers have seen it all before, I have no doubt, but for me it was uncharted waters plus a huge life event for Lulu.<br />
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As part of the settling in, the pupils start at 1pm. We spent the morning calmly preparing her book bag, the final bits of her treasure box and making sure her uniform was ironed and she was well groomed. She even told me how excited she was to be started school. But when it was time to get her shoes on, she leaned into Daddy and started to cry. Without too much fuss, we reassured her, cuddled her and continued to get out of the door and walk to school. There were regular laments of 'Mama' and 'Daddeee' all the way down. <br />
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<a name='more'></a>We held our nerve, well my husband was calm and confident, I followed his lead as much as I could. Deep down I was distraught with a huge lump in my throat trying to hold back the tears. Firstly because I wanted to do everything in my power to reassure her that school will be the most awesome thing in her life so far and that there's no need to feel sad. Secondly because I felt like such an inadequate mother for not having done a better job at reassuring her and cultivating a more confident child. At this moment in time I was most certainly not 'contented'!<br />
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This is one of the downsides of social media. Despite relishing the daily exploits of my friends, especially those with big life events looming such as their children starting school, seeing all the photos of seemingly confident and proud kids in their uniform before leaving for their first day didn't help my frame of mind. 'Switch it off!' I told myself but that was easier said than done. And yes I know, those photos are only a snapshot in time that a parent clings on to but amidst all the walking-to-school-tears I wasn't getting our 'proud moment' encapsulated memories. I had to put the camera away as it was a bridge too far. I selfishly felt a little cheated, albeit it may be karma for the times I've blatantly posted proud/ 'show-off' updates while another parent could have been feeling the same. Social media karma, now there's a 21st century term if ever there was one.<br />
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Today's school run story does have a more uplifting ending. On collection we waited for the school gates to open. My brain was even too occupied to survey the other school gate parents - which we know is bad if I can't be bothered to be nosy. Lulu came bounding out of the classroom like Tigger, smiling from ear to ear. The teachers said there had been a few wobbles but on the whole better than we left. I got my 'happy' photo which I shared privately with family & friends, not social media and have used a different one on this blog. Day one lesson learned!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-36323960733300544502013-09-05T10:40:00.001+01:002013-09-05T10:40:07.453+01:00The Bunny TragedySince the start of this year, I have become a keen runner. There are numerous obvious health benefits but also a run at the start of day clears my head and helps me focus on the day. It has also become a way for me to explore my neighbourhoods and countryside on my doorstep. But, the hazard of running in beauty spots is disturbing the wildlife. At home in Brighton, this hasn't been a major problem, mainly dodging snails at 7am. But while in Wales for work, it's a different story.<br />
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My chosen route for a morning run was on the pedestrian path by the Shropshire Union Canal in Welshpool, which you can follow "all the way to Newtown if you like" according to the self-titled 'Big Dave' on reception at the Royal Oak hotel. I won't be going to Newtown, it's 14 miles away and I'm only training for a half marathon but keen to explore the canal, a very different environment to my usual run routes. Needless to say it's a haven for a vast variety of species. On my first morning, I followed a grey heron along a stretch of the canal which was a real treat. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The late Canal Bunny</td></tr>
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On my second day of running I saw a cute little bunny, hopping along the path. I quietly whipped out my phone and took a video for my daughters. How proud I would be to show them a real life rabbit in the (sort of) wild. Suddenly he decides to escape me by jumping in the canal (rather than trot back to the field he came from) to which I immediately panicked, can rabbits swim? While I'm desperately looking for a branch to put in the water and steer him back to the bank, a family of swans start to terrorise the desperately swimming rabbit. Sternly warning off the swans who were hissing furiously at the brave bunny, my feeble townie ways couldn't think how to help the poor mammal short of jumping in. I didn't jump in of course, that would be daft.<br />
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Exhausted from swimming the rabbit stopped still and turned on his side. All alone, I still hunt for something to try and bring him to shore in the desperate hope he would hop to life. Heartbroken, I had to go on my way. The swans swam off.<br />
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So I'm feeling utterly useless & destructive. I know it wasn't directly my fault but if I hadn't have been there, the canal bunny may still be alive. Answers on a postcard in the form of a blog comment of how I could save a drowning bunny again? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CavgLywS08k/UihPqa3mG0I/AAAAAAAAAdk/5OiSxugMYuM/s1600/IMG_0219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CavgLywS08k/UihPqa3mG0I/AAAAAAAAAdk/5OiSxugMYuM/s400/IMG_0219.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rest in peace. You were much loved but not by swans.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-54231824146840912412013-08-13T23:33:00.001+01:002013-08-13T23:33:32.710+01:00Vegas BabyWe woke up Friday morning with butterflies in our stomach. Getting on the Las Vegas flight standby hinged on no sales being made last minute, overnight. <div><br></div><div>Fortunately, the availability looked good at 8.50am when we were changing the ticket. As I sipped on my coffee at the departure gate, anxiously surveying our fellow passengers, I was sure my nerves couldn't take much more. Even though we still had plenty of options if we didn't make this flight. We were put out of our misery half way through boarding, our names were called, our boarding passes issued. Hurrah! Relief washed over our faces and we focussed on the business of bundling small kids onto a jumbo jet. </div><div><br></div><div>My 4 year old, Lulu was overjoyed to be boarding the plane. Both kids quickly settled in their seats, pillows behind their backs, blankets over their legs and headphones on ready for the inflight entertainment. When else would they be allowed to watch hours of television in one go? Plus have people bring food, drinks and snacks at regular intervals? Kids are remarkably resilient and flexible while travelling and anyone holding back from long haul travel should carefully weigh in this factor. If they nap, have drinks and nibbles plus amusement it could be so simple. They were in their element, taking every detail in from their new environment. </div><div><br></div><div>What the kids don't realise and I can't fully convey is how I feel. This is a trip I've done before and has a special place in my heart. Vegas I do not like. It's the extreme of tacky commercial greed. The height of superficiality. There are hidden gems. Fabulous restaurants. Great children's play areas. For one night it would take care of us, this much we knew. The trek through the desert is like no other landscape they will have seen. I remember at 20 years of age, my cousin's wife pulling over at the side of the road to show me the desert sky, glittering with an unfathomable number of stars. </div><div><br></div><div>Los Angeles is much more special. Firstly to see cousins with whom we have a warm transatlantic relationship. We don't see them often but the family similarities and shared experience over the years holds the bond. I can't wait for my cousins to meet my kids for the first time and the cheeky international banter to begin. Secondly to show them the Pacific Ocean where I meets the vast beaches which hold in a burgeoning city. Up at Malibu where you certainly don't feel there's a metropolis of millions of people beyond the cliff tops. </div><div><br></div><div>And lastly to show the kids the hidden nooks and delights of a city I spent a whole summer in when I was 20. Albeit it has vastly changed, no doubt even more since my last jaunt there when I was pregnant with Lulu. There's adventures and discovery waiting in the places and people, which means an invaluable learning experience for my family. </div><div><div><br></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-10801958234893303912013-08-08T17:32:00.001+01:002013-08-09T09:59:16.135+01:00The Accidental Vacation<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A couple of months ago I looked at my August work schedule. It was light versus the manic autumn I was facing so I tapped my lovely travel industry worker sister up for some concession transatlantic flights to take me and the kids for a short trip. We have family in Los Angeles so plumped for trying to get out there on standby. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In August school holidays and peak travel getting on these flights is a long shot. But after weighing up the risk factors we decided it was worth a shot. Plan B was another West Coast destination, Plan C East Coast - in other words, we would go somewhere. We had flexible hotels booked near Venice Beach and bags full of hope. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We set off this morning at 7am, me, my Mum, Boo and Lulu and my 14 year old nephew. The dream team. We love travelling and don't mind a bit of adventure. We most certainly got that!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The first flight out was always the iffy option but you never know what happens, so we checked in and showed our faces at the gate. After watching streams of people board the plane, our hearts were racing. The feeling that we may just end up jetting off to our dream destination and hooking up with our family over there at our first attempt was extremely exciting. But alas it was not to be. The Chancellor of the Exchequer boarded last, which was a surprise. Especially as he looked in vacation mode! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Despite this set back, we remained positive. After all it is par for the course when travelling on standby. But then we met Stephen. The ground staff member who went to such lengths to scan his computer and look at our options. Once he realised how flexible we were, he excitedly tapped away at his terminal, his eyes glowing with travel passion. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We came away from this gate with a plan B and Plan C. Wait for the next Los Angeles flight as there were no other standby passengers and if that doesn't work, try Vegas the next day at Gatwick. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So back to Horsham we went. To rest and gather our wanderlust for another adventure. Travelling is not about the places, it's about the people and we have already met characters we would not have met otherwise. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0ed9VO7KCwc/UgPINU_C_DI/AAAAAAAAAc0/NpnjIfMOT_o/s640/blogger-image--453653598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0ed9VO7KCwc/UgPINU_C_DI/AAAAAAAAAc0/NpnjIfMOT_o/s640/blogger-image--453653598.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-82808723241063330692013-07-29T21:05:00.001+01:002013-07-29T21:08:57.055+01:00Things I Learned From Bedtime RoutinesRoutine used to be a dirty word in my world. I'm sure I have some subliminal routines in my life but on the whole, I am one of those fidgety sorts, always looking for something new. Not loving routine does not exactly blend well with parenting but it has taught me a few useful and interesting things:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Please Lord, let the kids sleep</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Ambro/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net </span><br />
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<u><b>I Actually Can Wait For Things</b></u><br />
In my LBB (Life Before Babies) I wasn't known for my patience. Waiting is boring. But with kids and particularly the bedtime routine, patience is the only tool that works. Well...and holding your nerve. The what seems like the endless repetitive techniques of silent tucking in, laying down in the room waiting for them to nod off, actually transform into an effective plan. With both of ours, it has taken less than a month to get this buttoned down, until they hit another phase such as teething, upgrading to a toddler bed, moving rooms. It has taken me a few years but I have used this 'wait and good things will happen' approach in other areas of my life, such as losing weight and getting fit, gradually dropping 25lb and completing a 10k race. <br />
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<b><u>Tear Up The 'Mum-time' To Do List</u></b><br />
While it's tempting to have a whole host of personal projects waiting for the evening, I learned the hard way not save anything crucial. Banking on the smalls getting their heads down is the path to unnecessary stress. And shouty mummy will definitely not get the kids off any faster! <br />
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<b><u>Yoga Is Brilliant For Your Escape Plan </u></b><br />
Somehow the little one can sense when you're making a move to slide out of the room despite snoring and going all floppy. You can wait 5, 10 or even 20 minutes, think the coast is clear then BAM - as soon as you pass the room threshold out, the tears start up.<br />
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Firstly, wearing socks on floor boards is essential. Who would of thought that the sound of feet peeling off varnished wood makes such a penetrating noise? Plus make a mental map of all the creaks in your floor boards. <br />
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Secondly, get that core nice and strong. Walk out on your hands using some highly skillful yoga poses. Start slowly with the <a href="http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/2468" target="_blank">cat</a> pose, then up into the <a href="http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/491" target="_blank">downward facing dog</a> then <a href="http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/1708" target="_blank">warrior</a> pose out of the door. <br />
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<b><u>Kids Are Creepy But It's O.K.</u></b><br />
No wonder children have inspired horror movies. They can sleep with one eye open, snoring away, their lids frozen. While you are studying them intensely trying to figure out if they've gone over for good, suddenly...blink, blink. Then there is the sleep-talking, shrieking and irregular breathing patterns. By day, cute little cuddle monsters, by night...Chucky is back. <br />
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<b><u>My Bedtime Stories Are Great But I'm Not J.K. Rowling</u></b><br />
Well I think the stories are great with average reviews from the kids. We love a bit of the Gruffalo, Room On The Broom and poems from my childhood. But my favourite thing to do is turn the days events into a 'Once Upon A Time' style story sometimes embellishing adding dragons and fairies. If I am really up for a challenge, I set it to music choosing a catchy tune, tonight's offering was Volare by Dean Martin and flying pink ponies over the hills and sea, to our local park for ice cream. It was wonderful, nonsensical carefree fun and I loved every minute.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-78367406867536828702013-07-23T09:08:00.003+01:002013-07-23T09:08:53.381+01:00Procrastinating In The HeatYesterday was a tough day to work in. Even from my shady home office, the hot, dense air had me feeling lethargic and slow. Those of us who work from home may not have the luxury of air conditioned offices and chilled water coolers. So how do we keep motivated and cool in this climate? I just about clawed my way through the to do list yesterday by doing these things.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vtHJNVzX1Wg/Ue453XXcFBI/AAAAAAAAAbo/nntBV69DkaA/s1600/kemptown+seafront+railings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vtHJNVzX1Wg/Ue453XXcFBI/AAAAAAAAAbo/nntBV69DkaA/s320/kemptown+seafront+railings.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
1. Drinking plenty of water. I had a bag of ice in the freezer and a tall glass of water by my side all day. I'm sure there's some sort research that says cold makes the body over-compensate and generate more heat, as in taking cold showers but I was in the business of kicking my thought processes into gear. An ice cold sensation down my throat to the stomach seemed to do the trick.<br />
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2. Exercise. I've been setting the alarm for stupid o'clock and going out for my morning run in the cool morning air. It controls my stress levels, organises my brain plus I have some of my more creative ideas while running. Plus at lunchtime I dragged myself up the hill for lunchtime 30 minute circuits at my well-aired gym, a good old alt+ctrl+delete for the brain (except I use a Mac, so that wouldn't really work). <br />
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3. Siesta. Those Mediterranean types have got it right. Work when it's cool, rest when it's hot. If your routine allows it, there's no reason why this wouldn't work. I didn't take a siesta yesterday but did save some particularly complex tasks till the evening, after the kids were in bed and the sun went down.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i1K9AtaD7Kg/Ue45zqWauwI/AAAAAAAAAbc/7zmnnksvnrc/s1600/Oranges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i1K9AtaD7Kg/Ue45zqWauwI/AAAAAAAAAbc/7zmnnksvnrc/s200/Oranges.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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4. Eating energising foods. I made a huge bowl of fruit salad in the morning, and grazed on it all day, sometimes adding a dessert spoon full of low fat crème fraîche with vanilla essence or pumpkin seeds.<br />
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5. Only doing the vital tasks. Early in the day, I spent about 20 minutes looking at my calendar, my task list and sorting what can be done when. As the weather report showed the week would cool, it made sense to move some of the more complex tasks to those days. Apart from a few unplanned e-mails I needed to react to, the plan worked. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-36969026023696009852013-07-20T10:17:00.001+01:002013-07-20T10:17:01.629+01:00California Dreaming<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><div style='width:300px;margin:0 auto'><div style='position:relative;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/california_dreaming/set?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=90271830' target='_blank'><img force='1' border='0' height='300' title='California Dreaming' src='http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/5o6BkHbkaTbX5Qm4BnpPYw/cid/90271830/id/pFkWn5NPRqOkAwAoDKkSOA/size/c300x300.jpg' alt='California Dreaming' width='300'/></a></div></div><br/><div style='text-align:center'><small><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/california_dreaming/set?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=90271830' target='_blank'>California Dreaming</a> by <a href='http://contentedmummy.polyvore.com/?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger' target='_blank'>contentedmummy</a> featuring <a href='http://www.polyvore.com/swarovski_jewelry/shop?query=swarovski+jewelry' target='_blank'>swarovski jewelry</a></small></div><div style='width:300px;margin:0 auto'><small><div style='padding-top:16px'><p style='clear:both;margin:0em;padding:0px'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=66011095' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' style='border:1px solid #cccccc;margin:0 8px 8px 0;padding:2px;background-color:#ffffff;' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/66011095.jpg' hspace='4' align='left' width='50'/></a><div style='margin-bottom:8px;text-align:left;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=66011095' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Swarovski jewelry</a><br/>swarovski.com<br/><br style='display:none'/></div></p><p style='clear:both;margin:0em;padding:0px'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=21860515' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' style='border:1px solid #cccccc;margin:0 8px 8px 0;padding:2px;background-color:#ffffff;' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/21860515.jpg' hspace='4' align='left' width='50'/></a><div style='margin-bottom:8px;text-align:left;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=21860515' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Mac cosmetic</a><br/>maccosmetics.com<br/><br style='display:none'/></div></p><p style='clear:both;margin:0em;padding:0px'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=43685203' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' style='border:1px solid #cccccc;margin:0 8px 8px 0;padding:2px;background-color:#ffffff;' src='http://ak2.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/43685203.jpg' hspace='4' align='left' width='50'/></a><div style='margin-bottom:8px;text-align:left;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=43685203' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Waterproof mascara</a><br/>maybelline.com<br/><br style='display:none'/></div></p><p style='clear:both;margin:0em;padding:0px'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=66063056' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' style='border:1px solid #cccccc;margin:0 8px 8px 0;padding:2px;background-color:#ffffff;' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/66063056.jpg' hspace='4' align='left' width='50'/></a><div style='margin-bottom:8px;text-align:left;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=66063056' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>The body shop</a><br/>thebodyshop-usa.com<br/><br style='display:none'/></div></p><p style='clear:both;margin:0em;padding:0px'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=83578151' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' style='border:1px solid #cccccc;margin:0 8px 8px 0;padding:2px;background-color:#ffffff;' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/83578151.jpg' hspace='4' align='left' width='50'/></a><div style='margin-bottom:8px;text-align:left;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=83578151' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Beauty product</a><br/>$43 - clarins.co.uk<br/><br style='display:none'/></div></p></div></small></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-20183571285336955042013-07-20T10:16:00.001+01:002013-07-20T10:16:45.095+01:00California Dreaming<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><div style='width:300px;margin:0 auto'><div style='position:relative;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/california_dreaming/set?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=90271830' target='_blank'><img force='1' border='0' height='207' title='California Dreaming' src='http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/1JWoF7qa6u6xHIJaxYsnVA/cid/90271830/id/pFkWn5NPRqOkAwAoDKkSOA/size/c300x207.jpg' alt='California Dreaming' width='300'/></a></div></div><br/><div style='text-align:center'><small><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/california_dreaming/set?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=90271830' target='_blank'>California Dreaming</a> by <a href='http://contentedmummy.polyvore.com/?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger' target='_blank'>contentedmummy</a> featuring <a href='http://www.polyvore.com/mac_cosmetics_makeup/shop?brand=MAC+Cosmetics&category_id=93' target='_blank'>mac cosmetics</a></small></div><div style='width:300px;margin:0 auto'><br/><div style='text-align:left;'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=66011095' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' title='Swarovski jewelry' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/66011095.jpg' hspace='4' width='50' vspace='4'/></a><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=43685203' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' title='Waterproof mascara' src='http://ak2.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/43685203.jpg' hspace='4' width='50' vspace='4'/></a><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=66063056' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' title='The body shop' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/66063056.jpg' hspace='4' width='50' vspace='4'/></a><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=21860515' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' title='Mac cosmetic' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/21860515.jpg' hspace='4' width='50' vspace='4'/></a><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=83578151' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'><img force='1' height='50' title='Beauty product' src='http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/83578151.jpg' hspace='4' width='50' vspace='4'/></a></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-90379916585534682842013-07-19T10:04:00.001+01:002013-07-19T20:04:57.865+01:00Getting Off The FenceI'm a reasonable person. When debating an issue with someone, I usually see several angles. But there are times when we all need to get off the fence. So here's my cards, slapped down hard on the table. <br />
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<b>Dogs</b><br />
They smell, dribble, mess, need cleaning, walking and amusing. What is the point? Yes, I can see some working dogs on farms are helpful but these days I don't see why they are useful anywhere else. Dog owners bang on about loyalty and the comfort they get but if one of those smelly things comes near me with they scratchy claws my stomach turns. In our neighhourhood they just symbolise mess, everywhere. On the pavement and on our buggy wheels. <br />
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<b>Car Crash Television</b><br />
Talent shows, scripted reality bullshit, they are all an advertisers wet dream. But something happens to my Twitter feed on a Saturday night. All these wonderful people I follow who share amazing articles, blogs and insights all week, suddenly switch to giving poor armchair commentary to a show essentially about nothing. Why would you want to give a blow by blow account of someone else's embarrassment? If you ever catch me tweet #xfactor please unfollow, it's too late to save me but not yourself.<br />
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<b>Sport</b><br />
Playing sport is great fun. You get fit, healthy, reach some goals, push the body and spirit to new levels. Throw in large sums of money, television rights, endless pundit shows and backpages of 'transfer politics' and you've lost me. The modern world of national tournaments and grand slams is riddled with people just looking to make money, not sporting history. It's rotten and cheating continues in order for people to make more and more cash. Doping, match fixing, ball tampering, embezzlement - the list of incidences grows and nothing really appears to change. People who routinely spend large amounts of money on sporting events are being conned in my view, no matter how thrilling they think the match may be.<br />
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<b>Swearing</b><br />
To me it is all relative. Bloody, shit, fucking - they are all just words. Personally I love a good swear session, it heightens a sense of passion and emotion. If you get hung up on 'bad language then you're missing the point. People can be rude and vitriolic without using any 'rude words' at all. When you consider English words mean different things in other countries, it makes a mockery of swear words. The American's use 'fanny' for bottom and it's playful, to us Brits its a rather derogatory meaning for ladies front parts.<br />
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<b>Money</b><br />
We need it to live, crave it to change our lives and some people use it to measure success. In fact I'm sure most of us have been caught thinking in terms of the latter. Ultimately the pursuit of wealth is a meaningless path unless it comes with other achievements, such as creating or producing something of intellectual or artistic value. Or filling the soul and having experiences which enhance yours and others' lives. I look at those around me who crave 'stuff', nicer cars, houses and holidays. Some reward themselves as a result of their achievements, the collection of 'stuff' is a symbol. If you can leave the craving there, you've sussed out a balance in life. But it doesn't always end there and I've also seen those who are eternally frustrated to get to the next level of wealth and never any happier getting there. <br />
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<b>Religion</b><br />
The list is getting rather heavy isn't it? Anyone who has read my blogs, knows I kicked organised religion out of my life some time ago. Raised a Catholic, I was disillusioned once out into the big wide world after being part of a fabulous school community. I'm still left with a spiritual void. The teachings in many religious scriptures and doctrines are essentially a moral code for humans which is a good thing isn't it? There's absolutely nothing wrong with trying to give your soul some direction and purpose. But organised religion is dangerous and slowly tearing apart the human race.<br />
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At a community level, religion is different. For example, in congregations throughout the world, most people don't care if two members of the same sex want to get married or women want to be Bishops. I will never fully understand the level of control organised religion wants over all people, whether part of their belief system or not. It's a double standard stacked up against their supposed spiritual beliefs. <br />
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<b>Kids</b><br />
Yes I'm a Mum. But I was a woman, a person with many different aspects before I became a Mum. Having kids was just something I have done. It didn't 'make me whole' or complete me or any of that claptrap. My daughters are the most precious part of my life network but not my sole purpose for living. Procreation is primal, it is deeply set in our genetic code.<br />
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Validating our existence by having children is one of the most natural things humans do. We extend our familial line and therefore guaranteeing a sort of eternal existence. One could argue, it's not a choice at all. And those who choose not have kids, have just evolved emotionally past the primal pull towards sowing their seed. Ironically, this kind of evolution would not guarantee the future of the human race!<br />
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<b>Hove</b><br />
I've tried so hard to like it. I lived there twice. But no one smiles that way and it scares me. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-29069553040632024972013-07-10T21:49:00.000+01:002013-07-10T21:59:11.305+01:00Tinted Lip Balm: The Reason You Do Not Need Lipstick In The SummerSummer make-up can be tricky to master. Your skin can get clammy spending prolonged periods in the heat and could start oozing sweat at any moment, so many cosmetics melt. Despite the heat, I do like a bit of polish and glamour. One simple and subtle way to achieve that is using a tinted lip balm or lip stain - or both! <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cfC8a3XRpT8/Ud3Ia0xWjSI/AAAAAAAAAZA/kXNhaFYtAZY/s1600/IMG_9048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cfC8a3XRpT8/Ud3Ia0xWjSI/AAAAAAAAAZA/kXNhaFYtAZY/s320/IMG_9048.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Warmer weather is the perfect time to give your skin a break from a heavy make-up routine. A tinted moisturiser, almost invisible cover-up, reliable bronzer and steadfast, waterproof mascara is all you need. Mix it up with a tinted lip balm and you have a healthy sunny glow, ready to withstand being out and about in the summer time.<br />
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After several shopping around exercises over the years, MAC's Tinted Lip Conditioner always comes out top for me but sadly the company are phasing them out, only a few shades remain on the U.K. website. My all time hero shade Soothing Beige is gone, so I'm in the market to find a colour which comes close and is fit for purpose - hydrating, soothing and glamourising my summer smoochers. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TwMBIRQeFPs/Ud3Iaf0y9hI/AAAAAAAAAY0/5cdJTJoumMQ/s1600/IMG_9042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TwMBIRQeFPs/Ud3Iaf0y9hI/AAAAAAAAAY0/5cdJTJoumMQ/s320/IMG_9042.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">I found out about the demise of my favourite balm airside at Heathrow this March, a pot of lip balm is one of my long-haul flight essentials. I trotted along to the Duty Free and picked up a <a href="http://www.clinique.co.uk/product/1605/15520/Makeup/Lipsticks/Chubby-Stick-Moisturizing-Lip-Colour-Balm/index.tmpl" target="_blank">Clinique Chubby Stick </a>after explaining to the assistant my 'pot' woes. The shade, Whole Lot Of Honey, lived up to my scrutiny in colour but my moisture hungry lips ate the balm too quickly so I irritatingly had to reapply several times. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">My favourite so far, on my quest to find a new tinted lip balm is <a href="http://www.clarins.co.uk/Colour-Quench-Lip-Balm/C050303011,en_GB,pd.html" target="_blank">Clarins Colour Quench Lip Balm</a>, £16.00. It doesn't have an SPF and it is a shimmer finish (I prefer matte) but the Sweet Fig shade is just what I'm looking for to fit with my beach glow summer look. It even stayed on after eating my lunch, which I don't usually expect from a lip balm. </span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Another solution for melt-free summer lips is to use a stain. I'm talking about clear liquid lip stains, often applied with a brush or pen. Not those lipsticks which refuse</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> to die on your lips - which clump are vile in my view. If you still want some shine, wait for the stain to dry completely, then add some clear balm over the top. It shouldn't remove the stain underneath, at least not for a few good applications. </span></div>
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The Body Shop sells a reliable and versatile<a href="http://www.thebodyshop.co.uk/make-up/lips/lip-and-cheek-stain.aspx" target="_blank"> lip stain</a> in two shades which used to be rare until Rimmel launched 1000 Kisses. I've been combining stain with balm for years and happily Rimmel's felt pen style lip stain has a handy balm stick the opposite end. <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Other clear balms to compliment your stain with a subtle sheen would be <a href="http://www.thebodyshop.co.uk/shop-by-range/shea/shea-lip-butter.aspx" target="_blank">Body Shop's Lip Butte</a><a href="http://www.thebodyshop.co.uk/shop-by-range/shea/shea-lip-butter.aspx" target="_blank">r</a> or <a href="http://www.maccosmetics.co.uk/product/164/643/Products/Lips/Lip-Care/Lip-Conditioner-SPF-15/index.tmpl" target="_blank">MAC's Lip Conditioner with SPF 15</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Trying to find a stain in red or warm brown is nearly impossible. </span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Rimmel's 'variety' of shades seem to be several shades of pink. You</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> can still buy MAC's discontinued Lip Stain pens on eBay but caveat emptor, as you could end up buying make-up that could not be authentic which potentially comes with a whole set of health risks. </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So if there are any manufacturers reading this, please can you make a nutty, creamy, matte brown lip balm please, that preferably tastes of champagne. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><i>Regular readers will know that I don't do sponsored posts or write about freebies for this blog. I don't work for any of these companies directly or as a service provider.</i></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-80748873923015972712013-04-27T17:03:00.002+01:002013-04-27T17:18:27.184+01:00News About Your TicketAfter years of resisting, I am now one of the <strike>blinded</strike> hopeful masses who play the lottery each week. Playing on-line, every time I get the e-mail titled 'News About Your Ticket' I get a little flutter in my tummy. I'm struggling to remember how I got here.<br />
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Nineteen years ago the nation went bonkers for the National Lottery. I was proud to resist being a slave to the weekly numbers making my thoughts known to anyone, usually quoting the fictitious Henry Davenport from Drop The Dead Donkey and calling it 'the moron tax'. I was smug that I wasn't one of those people who ended any discussion about craving luxury material items, 'ah well, when I win the lottery'. Relying on luck to get what you want in life, 19 years ago, was absurd. Plus the odds were wildly impossible, it seemed better to put money in premium bonds - which I did and earned the same interest as I would do in a savings account (when the interest rates were half decent). <br />
<br />
Now I'm approaching 40, I seem to have softened my approach. I mean, what the harm in parting with £1 or £2 a week for a chance of winning a nest egg or ten? It's probably pretty common to feel this way during mid-life. I'm exhausted from the work/life balance and the idea of not working and having more freedom is extremely seductive. We have also witnessed first hand what lottery money is doing for good causes and sport, so another justification to why it's not a complete waste of cash.<br />
<br />
Something doesn't sit right playing the lottery though. I buy my ticket on-line to keep it 'out of mind'. Except when that e-mail arrives with 'News About Your Ticket' then my meagre winnings of around £2.90 are used to buy more tickets. It's like a poorly performing financial investment. <br />
<br />
I have a problem with the notion of craving large amounts of money. It's rife in our society, aspiring to the 'haves' and their endless stream of excess. Essentially I believe it cripples people into achieving their true potential and creating something amazing. When you've reached one level of wealth, it's inevitable you'll start lusting after the next level creating an impossible and exhausting journey. But it's easy to say that when I've never gone without the essentials in life. <br />
<br />
I've been watching the second series of The Syndicate, which attempts to portray the influence of a
large influx of cash on people's lives. Unlike, Disney telling us that a
'happy ending' is marrying a prince and living in a castle, the series
unfolds into moralistic yarn on how money destroys families, friendships
and basically turns people into nastiness. I'm sure that many of us
have first hand life experience of this being true. I have sadly seen
money change people's trust in each other.<br />
<br />
In the last episode of the series, they featured a house which was the venue of a good friend's wedding. My eyes and heart filled with emotion, memories streaming back of a happy but emotional day. Weddings cost money but the moments they provide beat out a million lottery wins. And that is something I truly believe. Long may I remember! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-51816869219359598772013-03-22T00:17:00.000+00:002013-03-22T00:21:20.118+00:00Suits: A (Rubbish) Poem For Harvey Specter <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5cEJlcLIheQ/UUuiyLRkoKI/AAAAAAAAAVo/XTbAZ3xYcAY/s1600/suits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5cEJlcLIheQ/UUuiyLRkoKI/AAAAAAAAAVo/XTbAZ3xYcAY/s320/suits.jpg" width="221" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">"Blue Suit On White Background" by zirconicusso</span></h1>
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Harvey Specter wears a suit,<br />
And has a fancy office,<br />
With vinyl albums on one wall,<br />
Autographed baseballs against the other. <br />
<br />
Harvey Specter closes cases,<br />
That's what he does, <br />
With a flash of the eyes,<br />
And pouty lips. <br />
<br />
Harvey Specter, New York City<br />
Has a driver, an assistant,<br />
And a cutesy mole,<br />
Above his left eyebrow. <br />
<br />
Harvey Specter quotes bad movies,<br />
With Mike Ross, the illegal legal,<br />
The super secret in the storyline, <br />
Which will no doubt drag on. <br />
<br />
Harvey Specter is Thursday,<br />
And without Thursday, <br />
He's Gabriel Macht,<br />
Who was once in Sex and the City. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-26651320385346453172013-03-21T23:36:00.001+00:002013-03-22T00:19:30.133+00:00How I Wear My New Viva Glam<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-13873853692643617942013-03-12T16:28:00.002+00:002013-03-12T21:58:44.443+00:00Mid Life Crisis? Moi?Don't you just hate the term 'mid-life crisis'? So I've reached mid-life and feel like shaking things up a bit? So what! I think people should be applauded for trying new things, especially as they get older.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Couch 2 Running in the Rain.</td></tr>
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I've used the phrase. Usually applying it to middle-aged men who buy a convertible Porsche or have affairs with younger women. But in truth, the fact declared someone is having a mid-life 'crisis' says more about me than the person I'm referring to. In the sense that, a) I'm jealous of someone who gets a Porsche b) I'm disgusted by men who break up their families for 'a grass is greener' affair. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I'm going to call my latest 'mission' to run a 10k race then a half-marathon, a 'mid-life epiphany'. In your 20s and 30s it's all too common to be oblivious to your health. After all, at that age we feel invincible and take our young, resilient cells off clubbing two nights in a row, binge drinking and non-stop dancing. One feels life is far too short to be a hamster on a treadmill for hours in the gym while television screens belt out culturally-challenged music videos when we could be socialising.<br />
<br />
As Britain is slowly waking up to an obesity epidemic, these last few months of a new eating and fitness regime for me has slowly wrenched me from a toxic existence. I now get itchy if I don't go for a run or exercise. My body feels awkward and bloated if I indulge in excessive sugar, fat and alcohol. I haven't denied myself foods I love, merely introduced lower calorie meals which float my boat in the same way. <br />
<br />
It's clear we need a new mindset towards our health to emerge in our society. We know very well from oodles of medical evidence we should be balancing our diet and exercising at ANY age. The gap between the 'health conscious' and the 'health oblivious' is widening, making it harder to educate those who should be looking after their bodies better. Those who don't engage in regular exercise, for example, sometimes feel intimidated by gyms and classes. We need to examine more why healthy eating and physical fitness can't become as natural to most as buying the morning paper or putting the kettle on?<br />
<br />
I'm only two months into this journey. The proof that changing a mindset for life is still out there. But initial results are looking good. I've lost 12lb and several inches from my waist and hips, without joining an expensive gym or diet club. The latter for me is the biggest achievement, as I feel I have taken sole control of changing my habits and sticking to my new routine. There's few excuses for major deviations now, as I have also proved I can fit it all around life with kids, work, volunteering and running a household. <br />
<br />
For more on my progress plus my recommended tried & tested (non-sponsored) tools to support weight loss & fitness visit: <a href="http://www.fitfaband40.co.uk/" target="_blank">www.fitfaband40.co.uk </a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-75543316298248234322013-02-18T13:00:00.001+00:002013-02-18T13:01:35.793+00:00Fit & Fab At 40
<p> This year I'm launching my own self-improvement campaign. Fit and fab at 40. I hit the big 40 in November which leaves me plenty of time to attack my appalling BMI and get fitter in general. </p>
<p>My story isn't unique. Over the years I've yo-yo dieted, each time I fell off the wagon my weight crept up on the scales. In 10 years I've lived somewhat in denial being a little overweight and now I find myself deep in the obsese category of the universally acknowledged BMI scale. Having kids hasn't altered my attitude to food and weight, due to morning sickness I lost over 20lb with each pregnancy, vowing each time to keep the weight off post-natally. To put things into perspective, on 1st February this year, I weighed the same as my 41 week weight with my second child. So this isn't baby weight or lack of fitness due to having two kids, I was fitter during pregnancy than I had been for years previously.</p>
<p> Like many, I spiralled into an understated but very real depression. The kind that leads you to comfort eat and ignore the obvious. Hating just about every 'diet' club I had joined, I wanted to find a solution for life. I wanted to examine why I couldn't exercise self-control. As a close friend put it, eating and exercise is like managing a calorie bank account. You can't continue to permanently overdrawn.</p>
<p>So, when it looked like I was pushing towards the next clothes size up, I knew it was time to take action. I was consistently tired, with grumbles in my joints and back. These were the warning signs and thankfully I listened. </p>
<p>So this is my personal campaign. To be Fit and Fab at 40. The age is a turning point for me. If I don't change habits now I can see it only becoming harder as time marches on. Plus my kids are 18 months and 4 years old, so if I'm lucky, the only memory they will have of me this overweight is in photographs. I've set up www.fitfaband40.co.uk where I will talk about the tools I've used, my progress, my challenges and generally exploring the emotional side of habit changing. Add me to your reader, book mark me, tell me your stories.</p>
<p>What will you do to change habits in your life? It doesn't have to be about losing weight. Health inside and spiritually is equally as important. Join me in my question for Fit and Fab! Make a pledge below or in secret to me fitfaband40@gmail.com - I'll email you monthly to see how you're getting on. No cost, no agenda. Just a passion to support those who want to change. </p>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-6610562638475090492013-02-07T20:39:00.001+00:002013-03-22T00:19:55.230+00:00Hoop-La<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-86781910388100152192012-11-05T19:00:00.000+00:002012-11-05T20:43:38.391+00:00Ladies in London - Lunch<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
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To celebrate the fact I'm not 40 yet, I've organised a Not 40 Yet overnight in London without the kids. I decided to camp up in East London and explore a different side of the city than I'm used to - I'm a South Bank addict. True to form, I'm planning what to pack in the suitcase. Excursions in London can be a fashion conundrum. The surroundings inspire you to mix it up a bit but if you want to get around town, you need sensible but stylish footwear and a warm Autumn coat. You can guess one thing that will definitely be making my weekend bag: red lipstick. Perfect for wrapping around a cocktail glass or two.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-2695589335111409762012-11-05T06:30:00.000+00:002012-11-05T10:03:37.167+00:00Two Beers and Mayonnaise Jar<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JhjL9PBdR48/UJa73sbgbaI/AAAAAAAAANA/nkI7cscbtIg/s1600/Glass+jar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JhjL9PBdR48/UJa73sbgbaI/AAAAAAAAANA/nkI7cscbtIg/s320/Glass+jar.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h1 style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of </span></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">vudhikrai</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 20px;">/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</span></h1>
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My husband sent me the short story, 'Two Beers and a Mayonnaise Jar' to me the other week. It's a cute story, with good intentions but something about it annoyed me.<br />
<br />
The internet is full of urban legends, so when I receive any chain mail, I go straight to Google to see what I can dig up. However, with the charming <a href="http://www.biz.colostate.edu/MTI/TeachingTips/Inspirational_Materials_Related_to_Education/MaynonnaiseJarTwoBeers.aspx" target="_blank">Two Beers and a Mayonnaise Jar </a>story, I could only find people posting it up for inspiration. Even the oracle that is Wikipedia, had nothing referencing the story.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
The reason the story irritates me is I feel it lacks aspiration. It's a nice little reminder to prioritise the special people in your life. But I stand my ground, if you're going through a life-changing experience, like going freelance or building your own business, there has to be a few sacrifices. To my mind, following your dreams fills your soul. Which means your career, your work becomes one of the 'golf balls' in the story and not the pebbles.<br />
<br />
I could see why my husband forwarded the modern-day fable. The last year has been testing for our family. Having a second child, taking redundancy then going self-employed are huge changes. I will happily admit it has taken a decent amount of adjustment to manage my time effectively - and I'm not there quite yet. I started to put all my irons in the fire, saying 'yes' to too many projects out of the fear I will no longer be needed, let alone paid. In my mind, I was under the illusion that I had my priorities in order. In reality, I would have needed a time machine to do all the things I committed to.<br />
<br />
As with any major life change, I think it would be unrealistic to believe it can go smoothly. The most important thing is to take each hurdle as it comes, remember to look back and say, 'I did the best I could, now I'm going to try things differently.'<br />
<br />
But you can keep your mayonnaise jar wisdom. I'm writing my own inspirational story.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-62606608098606572182012-11-04T15:26:00.000+00:002012-11-04T18:16:53.352+00:00Dear Toy ManufacturersDear Toy Manufacturers,<br />
<br />
You may have teams of people specialising in designing the latest product to delight little ones enough to beg their parents to buy it as a Christmas gift. However, after about a week, these wonderful devices are left piled up in the toy box while the children go back to playing with things around the house they otherwise shouldn't.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EhoSw0BcteQ/UJaI6Bj16HI/AAAAAAAAAMw/WPOesXJBIJ8/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EhoSw0BcteQ/UJaI6Bj16HI/AAAAAAAAAMw/WPOesXJBIJ8/s1600/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I have an idea. Why not try and replicate the curious games kids invent for themselves. I guarantee it to be a money-spinner. Here's some that my 15 month old and my 4 year old will find enthralling:<br />
<br />
<b>Opening and closing cupboard doors. </b><br />
Why not invent a life-size cupboard door that doesn't trap fingers and fits over your usual kitchen doors. Also works with washing machine doors, the toilet lid and drawers on rollers.<br />
<br />
<b>Stairmaster.</b><br />
Real life stairs with Velcro and automatic air bag at the bottom of the stair case should they fall.<br />
<br />
<b>Pebble in the cup.</b><br />
A non-toxic, anti-choke pebble and a normal cup. The objective is to fit the pebble in the cup, take it out then do it all over again.<br />
<br />
<b></b><br />
<a name='more'></a><b>Bang the spoon on the table.</b><br />
A spoon that never makes marks or noises. You can take to restaurants and never annoy other diners.<br />
<br />
<b>Bed-jumping.</b><br />
Like trampolining but with a full duvet set to mess up and sensory activated soft barriers that rise if a child loses balance.<br />
<br />
<b>Hot coffee chicken.</b><br />
A cup of drink that looks like Mummy's coffee, complete with steam rising but never spills and never scalds.<br />
<br />
<b>Credit card shuffle.</b><br />
A wallet full of authentic looking library, bank and loyalty cards, money and notes. Ready to pull all the cards out and easily put them back in again. Comes complete with a handbag to unzip and pull out from to start the game off.<br />
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<b>Ripping up tissues.</b><br />
The <a href="http://www.mywondercube.co.uk/" target="_blank">Wondercube</a> addressed the fascination of pulling wipes or tissues from a box. But we need to go to the next level. The box should be stuffed with tissue like bits of cloth that can be ripped into tiny pieces but put back together again. I'm not a scientist so if someone could figure that out, it would be great.<br />
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<b>Mummy's earrings. </b><br />
Thankfully someone has innovated <a href="http://www.mamajewels.co.uk/" target="_blank">child proof necklaces</a>. Next step....earrings. Glamorous hoops and danglies that don't rip out of the ear or stretch the earlobe while being tugged by a child.<br />
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<b>Vanishing ink.</b><br />
Pens that write on furniture and walls but the ink disappears a few hours after with no marks. Washable ink pens are all very well but these take out the scrubbing!<br />
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<b>Recycling centre.</b><br />
A playhouse complete with recycling boxes, bins and waste items to sort, box and unbox.<br />
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<b>You may also want to try:</b><br />
Laptops that look more like grown-up devices.<br />
Ditto mobile phones.<br />
Sellotape that's child-safe, anti-choke that doesn't leave marks.<br />
Child flaps. They look like cat-flaps but big enough for toddlers.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2094896068754739983.post-51940905726662761642012-10-16T23:03:00.001+01:002012-10-16T23:05:08.110+01:00My Favourite Fashion Season<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
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<a href="http://www.polyvore.com/autumn_winter/set?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=61125060" target="_blank"><img alt="Autumn Winter" border="0" force="1" height="300" src="http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/EOCdOZ3EuPwtNbTldMh2OA/cid/61125060/id/ZtBmUJqBQNyAVQUNeCfVzQ/size/c300x300.jpg" title="Autumn Winter" width="300" /></a></div>
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There's nothing I love more than dusting off my knee-length boots, dry cleaning my winter coat and de-fuzzing my woolly dresses. Autumn/ Winter season is my absolute favourite, you can experiment with colours, layers and oodles of accessories. More is more!<br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/autumn_winter/set?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger&id=61125060" target="_blank">Autumn Winter</a> by <a href="http://contentedmummy.polyvore.com/?.embedder=4845565&.svc=blogger" target="_blank">contentedmummy</a> featuring a <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/suede_jacket/shop?query=suede+jacket" target="_blank">suede jacket</a></small></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249794155362522155noreply@blogger.com0