A lifestyle blog
. I have been struggling to find meals that all of us will enjoy recently, and that can withstand E eating at 6pm, Mr B and I at 8pm and J at 8.30pm. It is either that or doing three dinners and my sanity can’t cope with that idea. So our Sage Appliances slow cooker has been an absolute god send as it has a keep warm function
. This floored me a bit this week. Ballet shoes hanging in a tree on Fleet High Street. Just hanging from a tree, with no explanation as to why they are there. Who put them there. Or, well, anything. The messages written on the shoes are quite powerful, and I did wonder if this was a cry for help from somebody. Lots of talk about perfection,
. You have no idea how overwhelming the urge to pretend that all the photos I took at RHS Wisley on Saturday were actually from our back garden. But anybody that knows us will see straight through that and know that our garden is far from floral. Don’t get me wrong, I would love it to be, but I know nothing about plants. And have no time to do
. Did you see what I did there? Did you? Did you? Stationary today, stationery yesterday. Some may not know the difference and I am sorry to say those people get the stink eye from me when I see them write things down. I even had to call a pen manufacturer out on it last week when they tweeted about it being National Stationary Week this week, when
. Did you know it was National Stationery week this week? Chances are you didn’t. However, if you are one of a growing number stationery addicts like myself, then you will have seen this week looming large in the calendar and been rubbing your hands together in glee. Safe in the knowledge that our Pinterest and Twitter streams will be full of #NatStatWeek gorgeousness. Today is Pen and Pencil day
. I have been trying to start this blog post in my head for about three weeks. “I don’t like olives” — but that then makes you think I am going to launch into a 10CC lyric and follow it up with “I love it”. I don’t. I really don’t like olives. Equally though I don’t like that I don’t like olives. I want to like olives.
. warning this post contains swearing. Lots of swearing. All the swears. If swearing offends then please leave now and Google some kitten pictures which is what I shall now be doing in an effort to calm down. oh love. I do not think it’s right to facilitate people living an unhealthy lifestyle. In the same way [that] I don’t believe that a size zero should be available, it’s not
. It’s 7.30pm on Sunday night. We have had a lazy afternoon watching the Grand Prix and an indoor barbecue with lovely friends and I am just assembling waffles and strawberries when my mobile rings. Withheld number. Sod that on a Sunday night. Anybody who wants me at 7.30pm on a Sunday will be in my phone book, and if they aren’t and it’s urgent they will call the
. It was a stunning picture by Annie that prompted Tara to pick colour as the theme for the gallery this week. A field of rapeseed down in Somerset last week, and it really is the most glorious picture: And it reminded me of the one at the top that I took in Holland, possibly even at the same time. How spooky would that be, so in tune as
. or I wish it was. Let me explain On Saturday I spent the whole day in a spa with one of my bestest best friends, Mrs Cooke. Mrs Cooke is a teacher and we met when post-divorce in 2001 I moved into the bungalow next door to her and her family. We quickly became such good friends that walking down one drive and up the other
. I read this article as it popped up on my “suggestions to share” feed on Buffer this week and it made me smile: What you should keep in your pantry or fridge or freezer. Mainly because it made me think about our Miele fridge. Is it wrong to love a fridge? Following my post on Valentine’s day I am guessing you are aware how much I love our fridge.
. I have to admit that I didn’t know this story, but when South Hill Park asked me if I wanted to go along to see a production of it I didn’t hesitate. It’s Roald Dahl, what’s not to like? Plus when I had been to the Roald Dahl museum in Great Missenden recently I had seen the petrol pumps on the main road that featured in the story (which
