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  • Screen Time & Instagram Dreams

    Instagram fashion is my new guilty, frivolous pleasure. Moments before I drift off to sleep, I wander blissfully through the pages of Vogue, Vivienne, Astrid and Bloom - getting lost in their creations, and imagining if I should also wear a pink, frothy skirt to the museum next Saturday... Like many of you, I try to limit my screen time, but then I get sucked into the endless quest for knowledge, the "you might like" suggestions, and all of the fun groups that just beg for me to join. So, the other night (before my frothy, Instagram dreams) me and my pajamas were settling in for the night, when Facebook popped up and recommended a group to me... called... wait for it.... Modern Armpits. Yes, seriously! Modern Armpits. I'm not kidding. Never mind that the thought and photograph made me more-than-cringe, but why on earth was that "something that they think I'd like"? I've never googled an armpit, or even looked up deodorant for that matter - so why was it even in my newsfeed? After I'd frantically deleted the suggestion, I needed some late-night comfort, and was immediately tempted by the anti-armpit-alternative, the English Cookery and Tea group. Of course, I joined (at 11:30 at night) and was quickly inundated with cucumber sandwiches, vintage tea cups, and all sorts of beautiful bakes that tugged hard at my nostalgic, English roots. I tried to upload one of my cooking photographs but was immediately refused and reprimanded for not posting the recipe with it. When I tried to add the recipe, I was told off again, as the recipe needed to be in a certain format. I re-did the format and was politely notified that there was a mistake in my recipe (!) and it wouldn't be published until it was corrected. It was late, so I rolled my eyes, gave up, and my pie recipe lay there, pending sadly until the next day. Not to be deterred, and still in love with all the niceties of other people's posts and pictures, I figured it all out, and finally managed to post a photograph and a recipe that was approved by the all-knowing, admin person. Within moments I got dozens of comments, and, I have to confess that my ego was a little stroked when everyone said how beautiful my pie looked. By the next day, there were hundreds of notifications and kind comments, so I boldly submitted another one – this time it was a picture of my Yorkshire puddings and their recipe. This was also slowly scrutinized until it passed the admin test, and a day later was deemed to be okay for posting. Within an hour, there were three hundred comments, including dozens of snarky words about the recipe; how theirs was so much better, was a popover tin against the rules of Yorkshire pudding law, and why didn't I have the courtesy to post it in both Celsius and Fahrenheit temperatures. By the end of Wednesday, I was exhausted from all the virtual chatter, and my newsfeed was overflowing with comments and recipes. It was just too much, and it was taking me ages to wade through them. My screen time had been fairly balanced before, but now, the tea, cake and Yorkshire pudding people had invaded my space in a very unexpected (and oddly unpleasant) way. While I loved my screen time, it was because I found it to be relaxing and part of my social fabric. I didn't need it to be stressful, and, to be honest, I didn't like the seemingly infinite number of rules on something that was supposed to be lighthearted and fun. With a twinge of sadness (because I do so love pretty pictures of tea and cakes) I decided to say good-bye. I quietly left the group, and me and my pajamas snuggled back down into the joyful, frivolous comfort of fashion, family and friends.

  • Mushrooms Are Having A Moment

    From psychedelic to kitsch, the simple mushroom is popping up in stores and all-over the news and social media. Not so much for eating (although I know many people that don't like fresh mushrooms at all, but will happily drink mushroom tea or sprinkle dried, crushed mushroom dust onto their salad) but they're definitely on trend and enjoying an unexpected moment. I've always loved eating them, but my mushroom happiness comes from visiting them in my grandparents' garden. A lovely English garden with a lot of life crammed into it - it was perfect for young children to play in. We loved hiding in the secret, wooden garden that was covered in roses and vines, sneaking fresh raspberries from the fruit and vegetable patch, and following the crooked path that led to the clothes line far, faraway (well at least it seemed far, faraway when we were little). But the best bit of all was sitting on the green grass, making daisy chains, and watching the mushrooms to see if we could spy a fairy. Because everyone knows that fairies live in mushrooms. Once considered the love/hate vegetable of almost everyone (except vegetarians, of course) this cute fungi is now being featured on linens, pillows, jewelry, home décor, and, of course, in our vitamins and our tea. So, when another image popped up on my Instagram feed, I began to wonder what made them suddenly so cute and appealing? We know they're good for us (and have healthy medicinal uses) but we've always known that, so I really think it's because of the fairy tales, and people searching and yearning for simple things to make them smile. Show us a cartoon mushroom, and we think of nursery rhymes, bedtime stories and childhood - any childhood. It's a quick fix for the often jarring, busy world we're living in right now. We want everything quickly, including our solutions, so why not let the solution be a mushroom? They're non-political, cute without being too juvenile, and, they're inexpensive and easy to find. What could be better? Love them or hate them, here's what you can do to get some instant, heartwarming benefits from the simple, but lovable mushroom: Buy a toy mushroom and keep it in your pocket for good luck (or to fidget with). Decorate your shelves with an assortment of ceramic mushrooms. Make your bed with new, retro sheets, sprinkled with cartoon mushrooms and kitschy woodland critters. Use a mushroom bookmark when you read. Put one or two in an often-used cupboard. Place a mushroom decorated pillow on your sofa. Hang a vintage, botanical mushroom picture in your kitchen. Rediscover a favorite fairy tale from when you were young. (p.s. just to reassure my mum - no magic mushrooms have ever been used lol - my mind just wanders off in different directions :-)

  • Beginnings & Endings

    Recently, someone dear to us passed away. Although we had stopped being related many years ago, we still visited, talked, and, unbeknownst to most people, my ex-father-in-law would email a response to every single one of my blog posts. When someone is in our world for an especially long period of time, it's hard to imagine they're really gone, so when I published my most recent blog post, I found myself absentmindedly waiting for his reply. When I remembered that I wouldn't be getting one, I was sad for a moment, then wondered what he might have said. He probably would have said the blog was maybe a bit too long, and that he enjoyed company, but of course there was no need to fuss. Then he'd go on to say that he always liked my baking, and that of course his lovely wife always kept a welcoming, comfy home, and then he'd probably ask when were they going to see us next. When I was doing my design work full-time, I wrote a blog almost every week, so I have hundreds and hundreds of emails from him. Whether it was his amused curiosity about "glamping", or a gentle nudge to expand my writing into a wider audience, we'd email back and forth like old pen-pals. Both of us loved words, and had a genuine interest in what was happening in the world around us, which made for some interesting conversations. Some of his emails were lengthy paragraphs, almost short stories, and others were a few lines, with a word or two of encouragement or a question about what I had written. Regardless of what he wrote, each one made me think, and gave me a wonderful snippet into their daily lives. Sometimes, it was as simple as him describing his lunch and the mess of papers on his desk, and other times it was a very unexpected, full-on story about his thoughts and experiences that veered into a very random topic. I think, in some ways, it was sometimes easier for us to write than to talk, and, like me, he enjoyed putting sentences together and sharing parts of us that we didn't always give others access too. It was another side to him that I will always cherish, and I'm grateful to have these written memories. At one point, I started saving all of his replies, wanting to publish both my blogs and his replies in a book. I think they would make for an interesting read, but I haven't done that yet. Of course, I can't find the reply that I was looking for, but it was regarding Paul the Paper Clip. He suggested to me, with wry amusement, that there should be a sequel, and, perhaps a complete series to follow. Perhaps some children's books? I hadn't actually intended to write any more about Paul, but I liked his idea, and we talked about the possibility of writing a series the next time that we met for lunch. You see, people touch our lives in different ways, which is what makes every memory that we have so special and unique. I may still publish that book, but in the meantime, here's one of his replies to a blog post that I wrote over ten years ago about strong women, new beginnings, and my Lady in Red painting. Friday : 15 April 2011 Dear Wendy : Everybody needs some kind of "Lady in Red" discovery, though the exact color or shade may vary for each of us. Whether it's a painting, a stylish piece of furniture, or -- as is sometimes my case -- a striking dust jacket, artful book binding or magazine illustration that offers delight each time we look at it. And your latest blog, "Ladies and Red" -- pinpoints exactly why this should be so. Such excellence in artistry somehow "feed[s] that [secret] part of our soul. " Love, Joe/Grandpa

  • If I knew you were coming I'd've baked a cake....

    Come in! Well, well, well. Look who's here. I haven't seen you in many a year. If I knew you were comin' I'd've baked a cake, baked a cake, baked a cake If I knew you were comin' I'd've baked a cake Howdya do, howdya do, howdya do? Had you dropped me a letter, I'd a-hired a band, grandest band in the land Had you dropped me a letter, I'd a-hired a band And spread the welcome mat for you... (Here's the full version of this song - written by Al Hoffman, Bob Merrill, and Clem Watts, published in 1950 and delightfully sung by Eileen Barton in January 1950 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1wEVPqFFCg) I grew up with my mum and auntie always singing this song... I had no idea it was even a real song until today, but it still plays in my head, often, and brings back so many fond memories of afternoons spent with family and friends. Whether someone was dropping by unannounced, or coming to stay from overseas, there was always the house to be tidied, a cake to be made, and the tea kettle to be put on. It wasn't about being fancy, it was about making someone feel welcome, having a sense of pride in where we lived, and wanting to share our home with everyone who visited. But, most of all, it was about making that certain, visiting someone feel special. Once, it was said that this was all just too much fussing. As I paused, and wondered if my vintage plates and orange tea cake really were too much fussing, I felt a bit hurt, and almost hid it all away in the cupboard. Moments later, they pulled into the driveway, and I just knew that a hug and a freshly baked cake was exactly what we all needed. To me, it isn't about being overly fussy, it's about wanting everyone who walks through the door to feel that something wonderful (or at the very least, a relaxing few hours and something yummy to eat) is about to happen. And, that they know that I'm genuinely happy to see them and want to spend time with them. There's nothing nicer than arriving at a home and feeling that someone cares, and that they truly want you to be there. Whether it's a handful of flowers in a jam jar, a plate of cookies waiting in the kitchen, or a big smile and a warm hug when they first open the door, it's the feeling that you're welcome and they're happy to see us. It's about the care, not the cost. As you know, I love to bake, and my home is generally tidy (ish) so even if it's a last minute visit, I can usually pop something sweet in the oven, then run around for a quick ten minutes to straighten up. But, life doesn't always go to plan, so even if I'm completely unprepared, and I feel less than ready to entertain, I still want my friends and family to come and visit (and always feel welcome!). So, if you've hesitated to have people over, or feel that the word "entertaining" is far bigger than you can wrap your head around, why not invite them over for a visit, but do it in an easy, afternoon-or-morning-tea/snacking kind of way. It never has to be a full-on meal or a gigantic food extravaganza - you're just having people over because you want to see them, and they want to see you. That's all. Here's a few, simple thoughts on how to ease into it, and take the fuss and fear out of welcoming your favorite people into your home. What do you feed them? Always have something sweet and unopened in a cabinet or freezer. A roll of chocolate chip cookie dough keeps in the freezer very well, and is ready to portion and bake at a moments notice (and will make your home smell delicious!) Or, next time you're at the grocery store, buy a crumb, tea or pound cake. Wrap it in foil and pop it in the freezer. It'll thaw easily on the counter in an hour or less. If it looks a bit sad and plain when thawed, dollop a scoop of ice cream on the top. Almost everyone will snack on a cookie. Have a packet of something in the cupboard. It doesn't matter what it is (oreos, imported shortbread, supermarket sugar cookies, plain tea biscuits etc.). Never underestimate the thought of cheese and crackers. It doesn't have to be posh cheese at all - just cut up whatever you have in the fridge. Scatter a couple of pieces of chocolate or fruit around them (or not) and you're done! Use a fancy plate, wooden board or platter to serve things on. Whatever type of cookies, cake or snacks you're having, this always makes everything look (and feel) a bit more special. What do you do if you feel your home is too messy for company? Take a quick peek at the entrance where they'll be arriving. Make sure they can get to your front door without tripping on the hosepipe, or stepping on your puppy's fossilized poop collection. Clear the entrance hall as best you can, quickly (again, you don't want people tripping on your shoes or being unable to navigate their way safely). Attack the main room mess next. Gather up any strange, unwelcome bits and pieces that are lying around the area where you're going to be hanging out. Put them in a bag, basket or box, and hide them in a closet. Check the bathroom is clean and usable. And, that there's plenty of loo paper. Close any doors to messy rooms. Clear the dirty dishes off the counter. If they'll be coming into the kitchen, pile your dishes into the dishwasher (if you have one) otherwise, wash and dry them all quickly (if you have time). Or, just put them all in a big sink of fresh, hot soapy water. Empty the garbage can and open the windows. Glance around and throw away any dead plants or miscellaneous, broken uglies that are staring right back at you. . And, if none of this seems to work (or you don't have time to primp and prep) just give them a big hug, welcome them in, and pop the kettle on! :-)

  • Chicken Nancy & the eggs

    My friend and I would go on road trips - a day-long adventure to our favorite garden center-shop ever - Terrain in Pennsylvania. We'd go once or twice a year, and to say that it fed our souls is an understatement. The drive was long, but the rewards (a beautiful lunch, that usually involved lots of cheese, lavender honey butter, sweet, warm bread baked in its very own terracotta flower pot, hours of chatting, and a few necessary, but completely frivolous purchases) far exceeded the almost five hours that it took us to drive there and back. It was on one of these road trips that I discover the pure joy of fresh, farm eggs. My friend asked if we could stop by the local market on our way home, wanting to pay far too much money for a dozen eggs. I honestly didn't understand why, until she opened the egg carton in the car to show me. Underneath the lid, sat one dozen miniature, pastel beauties, all lined up neatly in their gently-recycled egg carton. Did they taste better? Maybe? Did it matter? No. The happiness that they gave her was worth every extra penny. From that moment on, I understood, and I was also hooked. I started to search for farm eggs near my home, but even though there were farms, there were no fresh eggs on a consistent basis. I would find the occasional "fresh eggs" sign taped to a red cooler sitting on the side of the road, but it was infrequent at best, and most times it was empty, apart from a puddle of melted ice in the bottom. My daughter and I once passed a sign, pointing down a winding, gravelly driveway, promising us fresh eggs and homemade cheeses when we got to the end. A wooden shed greeted us, but the place was empty, and there was not a single egg in sight. I started to back up (as figuring out the u-turn was far more than I could comprehend) when a man came running out of the house, waving at us. I stopped the car, and he asked us what we were looking for. I said it was fine, we were just looking for some eggs, but we could see that they were all out. Without hesitation, he asked us to wait, and said he'd go and check to see if they had any. Ten minutes later, I was going to leave (as I was starting to feel a little wobbly, sitting in the middle of nowhere, next to an old empty shed, waiting for a man) when he suddenly reappeared carrying a carton of eggs. I thanked him, gave him the money, passed them to my daughter in the back seat, and quickly made our escape back down the gravelly driveway. As I drove away, my daughter asked me to stop the car. I pulled over and turned around to see if she was okay. She was, but her eyes were wide, as she asked me to take back the egg carton. I reached for them, and she smiled at me, not saying a word, but knowing that she had a secret. The cardboard egg carton was warm, and inside were a dozen, beautifully colored (mostly blue) eggs. We realized that he had raided the chicken coop to get us the eggs :-) We loved them so much, that we only cooked one of them. The rest, we let sit on our counter, in a wire basket for months. I didn't care to think that they were starting to rot inside, because the entire experience just made me smile. Eventually, one by one, they started to crack and ooze, so we gathered them up and threw them out into the woods, watching them splatter against the old tree trunks. After that, our search for fresh farm eggs continued, and in-between I reluctantly bought supermarket eggs. I drew faces and wrote words on them to amuse myself - not giving up, but also not very hopeful either. Until one day, we happened upon Chicken Nancy. A nearby "fresh egg" sign on the side of the road pointed us to an enclosed, front porch. Through a screen door, on the floor, was a small bucket of money and a list. We were asked to write down our name and phone number, then someone called Nancy would call us when our eggs were ready. I was very skeptical, of course, but it seemed so odd, that I knew it just had to be true. I put my name and phone number down, and a few days later I received a call from Nancy saying that our eggs were ready. I went to the front porch, and there they were, wrapped up in string, with my name (and a thank you) scribbled on the top. I left my money in the bucket and took the eggs home. From then on, we'd get a call about once every two weeks letting us know that our eggs were ready. It was a reliable way to get our fresh eggs, of course, but the most fun thing about Chicken Nancy's eggs were that they were so unpredictable. She called me one day and asked if I minded duck and goose eggs in with my chicken eggs. Of course, I said, no, so from them on our egg cartons overflowed with the most bizarre combination of large and small, colored eggs. Almost too pretty to eat, but we did anyway. This went on for about three years, and then all of a sudden, she was gone. The calls stopped, and a quick drive by showed us that the home had been sold, and there were no more chicken coops in the back yard. Sadly, we had to go back to drawing faces on our supermarket eggs, until a recent commute took me by another homemade sign on the side of the road. Every morning, two coolers sit in front of an old farmhouse, filled with fresh chicken and duck eggs. I now stop whenever I want, and get a carton for my daughter and I. We marvel at the colors, almost too pretty to crack open, but we do.... because we now have a steady supply of fresh, beautiful farm eggs.

  • Pink Motivation

    I have a friend who loves the color, pink. She always has. Just the mere mention of the word makes her happy. Such a simple thing, but it works. It brightens her day, and her face lights up when she talks about it. Don't get me wrong - she's not strangely obsessed with it, and you're not going to see her dancing around the street in a tutu, but you may see a pink shoe, or catch the occasional glimpse of pink sprinkled through her hair as she jogs by. Because pink is actually her super-power - a daily affirmation of sorts, that subconsciously gives her strength when she needs to channel that inner something and give herself a boost. I love this about her, and recently, pink came back to motivate, when she needed to make some small, but necessary, changes. If you work or write from home, you know that it can be both a blessing and a curse. For some, a peaceful nook, with windows of sunshine and glorious quiet, but for others, it's a battle to put your thoughts together, as life and family continue to happen around you. Of course, it's a joyful kind of chaos, but when you're working, or trying to create, it can sometimes be an effort to concentrate and string together the simplest of sentences. This was where my friend found herself recently - craving a quieter spot to expand her dreams, gather her thoughts, and create more. Her small office space was beautiful as it was, but things had changed, and the time had come for her to make a change as well. It was no longer serving its purpose, and she needed to move out in order to move forward. Okay, so I know that sounded far more dramatic than I intended, but I love that sentence, so I'm keeping it in ha-ha. But you know what I mean - she just needed a larger, more quiet office space. After some brainstorming, an almost-empty bedroom was chosen to be her new spot. Of course, she was just moving down the hall, nothing earth-shattering, but we knew it would still be a lot of work, and a whole lot of mess and planning before her new space could be realized. Surprisingly, a few days later, she texted to tell me that it was finished. Magically, in just one weekend, it was all done, and it was beautiful. What had originally presented itself as a chore of necessity had quickly become a fun opportunity for her to expand, grow, and decorate. She had created a calm sanctuary of dreams and motivation. The color pink, had, once again, channeled her inner super-power, and helped bring a wonderful smile to her face.

  • Where is Happiness? Have you checked your cupboard lately?

    It's the beginning of March, and already most of us have forgotten our new year's resolutions, or never made them in the first place (me). Post-covid, they seem even more elusive than before, as everyone seems to be searching for health, emotional health, and happiness. Lofty goals, to be sure. We want it all, and we want it now. Give us the tools, show us the app, and let's make this happen. For most people, resolutions are a bit like that box of magic tricks that we get when we're children - we follow the rules, try them a few times, and if they don't work out exactly how we expected, we disappointedly put them away, and label them as a fail. But y'see, they're not really a fail. What they are is just something that we needed to practice a bit more. Like happiness. Happiness is something to be practiced. Not, contrary to what we're sometimes led to believe, a special gift that has been bestowed on the very lucky and few. However, neither is it a giant bundle of love that greets us every morning with colorful birds singing in our living room and magical rainbows floating out of the tea kettle. What they forget to tell you, is that it's somewhere in-between. It's the everyday stuff, it takes practice, and it takes a wee bit of effort to create our own happy moments and adapt our lives as-needed. Having recently downsized, I've had to exercise a ridiculous amount of restraint in how I decorate. It's been both a challenge and a journey, however, before I'd even finished unpacking, I grabbed all of my emotional tools, and forced myself to create a few everyday pieces of happy. Grandiose happiness wasn't on my list. Instead, it was how can I corral the chaos and spread bits of joy throughout my home. Every solution needed to be simple, quick and comforting. I needed instant gratification, and a happy home as soon as possible. Paring down the basics is such a lesson in happiness, and, it's blinkin' scary. I'm very sentimental, and having friends and family all over the world, I tend to collect and keep memories that make me smile. Yes, they're organized, but there's a lot, and paring them down was difficult. So, it was time to put on my big girl undies and practice what I teach. It was time to, once again, adapt to my surroundings, and love the space I was in. Of course, we all want happiness, but the reason we chase it (or think it's too hard to find) is because we're too busy looking for the big stuff, hoping for world enlightenment and that coveted ah-hah moment. But that's not what it is. Happiness is more subtle than that - it's something soft and kind that we choose to practice within our daily lives, as often as we can. It's a little bit of "fake it 'til you make it" that eventually becomes an almost unconscious habit. It's never perfect, but if we practice, it gives us something that's always there, waiting in the background, helping to lift us up whenever we need a boost. It's about finding, creating (and looking for) joy in the most tiniest of details in our everyday lives. Ridiculously, obscure details that may seem insignificant, but will all join together to form our daily dose of happy: A smile or wave to someone passing by. Anticipating and truly enjoying that first sip of coffee in the morning. Sending a gif to a friend, just so they know you're thinking of them. A cherished photograph on your fridge. Noticing early signs of spring when you're out and about. Choosing to wear your favorite color (often). Laughing at funny animal videos on social media. Buying duck eggs from the local farm. Listening to music as often as possible (on the way to work, while unloading the dishwasher, or just because you need to hear that certain song). Sitting outside in silence, watching the world happen around you. Planning what you would like to do next (big or little). Gleefully anticipating what might be in the mailbox today. Of course, I don't even pretend to have all the answers, but I can tell you, that one of the simplest bits of instant happy, that you can do right this minute, is to just put something (anything) that you truly enjoy, somewhere unexpected in your home. Pop a souvenir magnet amongst your knives and forks. Tape family photographs inside your closet door. Nestle a very small, cute something in the corner of a step. Write an inspirational word on the wall, in pencil, where only you can see it. Have a favorite knick-knack waiting inside your refrigerator. Or, do as I do, and keep a miniature troll doll sitting in your coffee cup cupboard :-)

  • 7 Minute Solutions

    It takes my trusty, electric tea-kettle seven minutes to come to a boil. Seven glorious minutes to do other things while I anticipate my first sip of coffee in the morning. Why would I need an electric tea kettle for my coffee, you ask? Because, it's instant coffee. Gasp. Yes, that's right - it's what I grew up on, and I still drink instant coffee to this day. Not awful, tasteless dregs, I promise. It's strong, and, with my electric tea kettle, it comes out much, much hotter than conventional, coffee-pot, drip coffee (which, I have to confess, I love the smell of, but not the taste). Anyway, back to my tea kettle. As the kettle comes to a boil, I have seven minutes, and, this is what I've discovered that I can do in seven minutes: Feed the fish and take my vitamins. Put the coffee and sugar in my cup, open the curtains, and pop some toast in the toaster. Check my phone. Put my make-up on. Get dressed and make my bed. (I lay my clothes out the night before). Empty the dishwasher. Run and get the mail. Eat a raspberry frosted pop-tart. Put a load of laundry in the washing machine. Write a grocery shopping list. Kind of crazy, right?! But, doesn't it make you stop and think about all those precious snippets of time that we let slip away without even realizing? Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of minutes that I enjoy filling with absolutely nothing, but, I also discovered that staring at a tea kettle for seven minutes, while quite fascinating on some days, is actually a reeeeeally long time. So, whether I think of it as a game, or a bit of mindless motivation to jump start my morning, I quietly whisper to myself, that if I do this and a little bit of that, then I'll be rewarded with a delicious, warming cup of this. My morning = The simple joys of coffee + a wee bit of personal bribery :-)

  • A Christmas Poem (& a New Year wish)

    Just four days till Christmas, and all through the town, Credit cards are up, and bank balances are down. With the season of Giving getting into full swing. The Children are all wondering what Santa will bring. We're online shopping from morning till night, But it's still not enough to get everything "just right”. Houses are decorated, Menorah’s are lit, Too many chocolates, and now my jeans don't fit. People are travelling, Cookies are made, Presents still to be wrapped, and the table to be laid. For some a religion, for many a Belief, For some..... when it’s over..... a huge relief. The Holidays remind us of who we have lost, Of what we have done, and was there a cost? Next year, we Promise, we'll have more direction, Just give us one more Chance, and we’ll aim for perfection. Back to shopping – just in case we haven’t gotten it all, Maybe it’s time to run out to the mall? That last minute sale – that Special thing we must get. Are we trying too hard? Are we having Fun yet? Christmas Carols, parties and trees that are faux, We are running out of Time, so we decide not to go. It all seems so much, too many to Please. And dammit, why is it so hard to string colored lights onto trees? But our intentions are Good, And we're sorry for freaking. I guess our Joy got a little lost, And could do with some tweaking. Because holidays should just be about you, them and us, So, forget all the shopping, and forget all the fuss. Spend time with Family and Friends that are dear, Add Kindness to your list, And wish everyone a very Peaceful New Year!

  • It's Christmas! Time to strip off and eat a pomegranate

    They say that it's best to sleep naked. Especially when you reach a certain age (ahem, yes, I'm there). Apparently, it forces your body to acclimatize and regulate your temperature better. I've also read, that it allows us to get in touch with our inner child - even better for our psyche, if we can fall asleep with a soft, cuddly teddy bear tucked under our arm. This led me to think about growing older, and how the less I have, the less I need, yet the more discerning I am, and the more nit-picky I am about what comes into my life. People, things, critters and calories. A recent bout with the ever-present-covid, left me with the loss of smell and taste. A happy side-effect for my waist line, but my morning coffee, once an anticipated cup of comfort and caffeine, became a sad, lukewarm cup of daily disappointment. Now, a few weeks later, I can smell and taste again, but nothing is the same. I'm fine with a bowl of mashed potatoes and a spoon for dinner (don't judge) and ice cream, once my food drug of choice, is still sitting in the freezer, neglected after a few scant spoonful's. Not to be discouraged, and knowing I needed something healthy in my diet, I set my sights on the pomegranates that I had bought for decoration several weeks earlier. They always look so strange and beautiful (and I have fond memories of eating them seed by seed on the back step when I was a little girl) that I decided they would be my food adventure for the day. I've watched Jamie Oliver enough, that I know to cut them in half and give them a hard, firm whack with a wooden spoon; the jewel-like seeds will then tumble out into a wonderful, glistening array of ruby goodness. Well, that didn't work for me at all, and I didn't really enjoy hitting the pomegranate with a wooden spoon, so I moved on to Plan B. I scooped out some of the seeds with a teaspoon, then squeezed it as hard as I could with my bare hands into a giant bowl. Note: I would recommend doing it in the kitchen sink, as it might splatter, and may stain your pajamas and your kitchen cupboards. Yes, it looks like a crime scene, and you might be embarrassingly fascinated by the scarlet red juice oozing all over your hands, but it'll be easy, and you'll end up with a yummy, very-good-for-you snack. Have to say though, that I wouldn't recommend doing this while you're under the weather, as it did feel very complicated (and a tad overwhelming) the first time I did it in my covid pajamas, trying to follow the Jamie Oliver whacking a wooden spoon method. But, once you're feeling well again, it's a vitamin-filled, mini-adventure in your kitchen. Pomegranates aside, the last few months have been a lesson in simplicity. Already stripped down to less, I find that the anticipation is often far more fun than the event itself, and I am finding a new delight in some of the most simplest of things. Gazing at the moon before I go to sleep brings me so much joy, and turning on the Christmas tree lights each morning fills me with excitement, as the colors dance against the window and the room comes to life. As I get a wee bit older, I feel that there is so much more to love and discover. I'm grateful for each and every morning, I'm fascinated by the beauty of the moon each night, and every single pomegranate is a brand new adventure just waiting to happen!

  • Red Lipstick and a whole lot of Hope!

    Living (and coping?) in this crazy, covid world. With the wedding just a week away, and the potential for a lockdown looming in the distance, I found myself, once again, looking at lipsticks. Gorgeous, red, saturated lipsticks - that won't rub off with a kiss, or, quite sadly, stain the inside of a mask. Masks are not my thing, and wearing one yesterday had me hyperventilating and taking gasps of air in the women's bathroom of my favorite home store. Of course, I understand the seriousness of it all, but seeing a sign "recommending" that I wear one, and being handed an antibacterial wipe by a latex-gloved, masked man at the store entrance, is not what I would call the beginning of a happy retail therapy experience. Like so many others, I find a mask completely disorientating, never mind the onset of the anxiety-ridden claustrophobia that I never knew I had. Yet, despite my anxiety, and my (ir)rational fear of self-suffocating, I still continue to wear lipstick. Throughout the past eighteen months, although mainly marooned inside my home, I've continued to keep my routines, and, as silly as it sounds, wearing red lipstick is part of that routine. No matter what is on my agenda for the day, I get up, shower, add a smudge of red to my lips, and get dressed. Which was why I was so gobsmacked to learn, that with the arrival of vaccines, had also arrived many conversations about the inconvenience of having to get dressed in real clothes, the chore of wearing makeup again, and lamenting the return of trips to the local hair salon. Even magazines and news channels were talking about continuing the natural look, and taking great lengths to explain why it was perfectly okay to ditch the deodorant and cut your own hair with a glass of wine in one hand and a pair of kitchen scissors in the other (been there, done that). Little did I realize, that masks had provided many of us with a convenient, low maintenance excuse to avoid getting ready in the morning. Not only had pajama-dressing taken the world by storm, but clean faces and gray hair had also joined the ranks. Don't get me wrong, like everyone else, my backside has grown more than I would like, and I feel like I've aged ten years over the last two, but I've always got dressed, done my hair and wore makeup. A quick shower and a red lip does wonders for my internal disposition, even if it's just to prepare myself for an afternoon of Netflix and plonking my ample bottom back down on to the sofa. Y'see, it's not about impressing others, or looking pretty for a selfie, it's actually all completely about me (ha-ha). If I feel pulled together, then it gets me off to a better start, and if the day still goes to custard, and the universe collapses around me, at the very, very least I'm dressed and ready to face the latest catastrophe. In the end, it's really just about self-preservation and a whole lot of hope. It's been proven that we can't fix everything (and we're constantly being told that depression is at an all-time high) so why not try and face each day head-on, do what we can, and start with the simplest of things. Why not create your own little bag of emotional tricks for when the days feel lousy, and you can't stop worrying about the state of the universe. Create a routine, a strategy, something to help when you need it the most, but, in the meantime, grab inspiration wherever you can. If you're feel really stuck, feel free to borrow mine - start with a delicious, long shower, wear your favorite, comfy pajamas, put on some lipstick, and place you and yourself lovingly, gently on to the nearest sofa.

  • Thanks and Giving

    As a transplant to this country, I had never celebrated Thanksgiving before, and the thought of having a big turkey dinner the week before Christmas seemed a bit silly. But after travelling a bit more through life, it has now become my favorite holiday of all. I love that Thanksgiving has no boundaries in its celebration. Yes, we wrap it around the joy of turkey and pumpkin pie, but it is mainly a time to pause and be grateful for what we have. If we're extra lucky, it makes us even want to give of ourselves a little more, remember fondly those we have lost, and unconditionally open up our heart and home. Wishing you all a very happy and peaceful Thanksgiving!

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