A lifestyle blog
I know. Can you believe that? Getting upgrades on flights these days are about as rare as hen’s teeth. Smiling sweetly to check in staff or wearing a posh frock is not enough anymore to get you bumped up to the next class of flight. Believe me. I have tried. Six years flying backwards and forwards to the middle east. Not one. Trips within the middle east? Not a chance.
This is it. The weekend I thought would never happen because I said I would never camp or go to a festival again. Well they say never say never and now here we are. <gulp> Camp Bestival we are ready for you. First off we have the essential charging kit which gets checked and double checked ahead of anything else: Then of course comes the essential tea and coffee kit:
Woohoo. My turn to host SatCap again this week. We decided to turn right out of the drive earlier this week rather than the usual left and see where the dirt track would lead us. Boringly out on to the same main road we have been going up and down all week, just further down. But not before we had driven past a derelict house. Well two houses in fact.
Somehow I have managed to be featured under that subject heading in the latest issue of at home magazine which this month is guest edited by Jo Frost, the parenting guru. Quite how they found me or thought I would qualify to fit under that heading, I have no idea but I am going with it until I am found out. I am amongst great company, some of my favourite
Tournesol. “Turn sun” is the literal translation. Sunflowers to us in England, but to the French they are tournesol. I have really fond memories of driving through France and seeing field after field of them. All facing the same direction. Towards the sun. In fact, for me, no journey through France is complete without seeing them. I dont know what I would do if we ever had to drive through
I am expecting lots of cats and dogs (particularly Tara’s gorgeous hound) this week. And had we been at home then it would almost certainly been my picture too. Either #Fatcat, Cheeky Dog, or Bob the grumpy cat. But since we are away I have been able to feature something else. And not something that I photographed, but that Ellie photographed when she went for a walk last week. Our
As well as exploring out and about whilst on holiday in France, we have been exploring a bit more of the house we are staying in. It has been owned by the same family for five generations and is over 300 years old. We have had great fun trying to work out how it looked originally. It is clear that it hasn’t always been one dwelling. And in fact started
It took just three hours. Three hours for the world to be aware of this sleepy little village in the middle of France. It started just like any other day in June. But this was June 10th. 1944. And by 5pm the entire village was dead. Massacred. In three hours. Men rounded up and shot. Women and children taken to the church. Where a fire was started which forced them
The novelty of showing photographs from our garden soon wore off. About the same time that actually gardening wore off. I knew it wouldn’t last. I just haven’t got the gardening bug. But coming to France has given me a great excuse to show you the garden of the house we are staying in. That’s it up there in that picture. It’s rather gorgeous, I have to admit. And deep
I love this theme, it might even be one of my favourites as it gives a real snapshot of a moment in time. And an insight into people’s lives. My view at the moment is very different from my usual view on a Wednesday morning. Normally I would have done the school run and after the usual domestic stuff I would be sitting at the kitchen table doing what I
Tuscany holds special memories for me. It is where Mr B proposed. In Florence. In the Uffizi? Nope? On the Ponte Vecchio? Nope. But on one knee in a Tapas restaurant. Something I blogged about here: Six years ago today and so when I was asked if I would like to blog a Tuscan recipe for #TuscanyNowCookOff well how could I refuse. The email I got was so lovely and
Great Outdoors We had the most amazing Christmas last year, away in a holiday cottage in Cornwall with my parents, my inlaw, my granny, three teens and Miss C’s boyfriend D. It was brilliant. Enough space for all to spread out but around the roaring fire (that my dad proudly kept lit all week) it felt cosy and like a home from home. Soon after we got back Team
