Well hello, welcome to my page about Mummy Barrow, the award winning blog run by me.
I have had this blog for almost ten years now and am currently living with in the south of England though I often secretly dream of living somewhere exotic. I started out as Mummy Barrow on Twitter ten years ago because I wanted to be slightly anonymous and thought that as a mum of three small children the name made sense. Respecting my children’s privacy though I don’t really talk about their growing up or anything personally related to them because I don’t want them to Google themselves and find it all laid bare. Or more worryingly have their mates do it. This does make me regularly wonder if I should be ditching the name in favour of my own but as the postman now greets me as Mummy too it might be quite a wrench.
I would describes myself as a person who knows things and people, but mostly people. If we have chatted on line don’t be alarmed when you meet me for the first time if I greet you with “I love your new kitchen” (which I did once to Lisa Faulkner at the Good Food Show, much to Bruce’s absolute horror) and if I ask after your poorly child, ageing parent or adorable dog.
Back when I had what other people call “a proper job” I was a PA for the director of the country’s top scientific institutions despite only having a grade 4 CSE in Chemistry. I also spent time as a PA working for the Saudi Royal Family in Riyadh despite not speaking Arabic, where being able to drive myself was illegal, and where having a wee in the office was impossible without somebody going in to the loos to make sure there were no men inside first. After returning to the UK from the Middle East I worked in the property industry and despite no longer working in it I still have a keen interest in all things home and property.
Ask me what my greatest achievement is to date and I would mumble (aside from having a hand in raising three magnificent twenty somethings) something about encouraging a group of bloggers to come together to raise over £80,000 in five years, whilst also raising the awareness of the work that Comic Relief do around the world. Or that I can now speak enough Arabic to get you a discount on that rug you really want in the Moroccan souk. Or that we once had the FA Cup in our lounge for the day (complete with its own body guards). Or it might be something about the day I found out that if you Google “leftover turkey and ham pie recipes” mine comes at the top of over 9.5 million results. Said recipe is here: Leftover turkey and ham pie recipe
Though I am such a terrible blogger that it took me six years to realise that post from 2014 was doing so well.
I am a firm believer in “staying in” being the “new going out” and whilst I dream of hanging out in the coolest bars and restaurants I am terrified of being on the receiving end of looks from other people that suggest I am far too old to be there, so you are more likely to find me curled up on the sofa with a box set on my iPad, planning the next holiday. Some might say I am rubbish at planning since we once went to France for the day and then realised we only had 45 minutes before our return ferry left.
.Bruce and I do love to travel so Bruce can indulge his love of photography (especially with old cameras that use film and have no moving parts) and so I can indulge my love of bringing back bottles of gin instead of fridge magnets. My gin collection now exceeds 100 bottles and shows no sign of diminishing.
I am also a firm believer in this not being a dress rehearsal so we need to live our lives to the full. I make sure I say yes more often than no and that I do the things that menopausal women often think they shouldn’t. Like making snow angels whilst wearing a swimming costume in Iceland and posting the picture on Instagram.
I dream of one day living by the sea where I can eat chips and drink tea whilst watching the tide roll in and out.
I also long for the day I put a USB cable in the right way first time.
If you want to know anything else about Mummy Barrow, or to work with me then do get in touch