When your Mother buys you a book with 248 pages solely dedicated to transforming “your home into a permanently tidy, clutter-free space,” and with the precursor, “You’re probably not going to like this Dear,” you know you’re in trouble. Last year and crucially, last year, my Mother gifted Marie Kondo’s “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying” to me. And since last year, have I even picked it up? No way. For when my Mother, in an pre-meditated act of pseudo-kindness, bought me a Zen-shmen, Japanese sensation of a book, containing “simple and effective ways to banish clutter forever”, I had no choice but to interpret this as a tactless and underhand move, an insult plain and simple. Continue reading “The Magic of Space”
It’s Mental Health Awareness week. So let’s talk about mental health.
The truth of the matter is that 1 in 6 adults experience mental health problems in the UK. So if you’re not feeling it, then the likelihood is that someone close to you is. Continue reading “Let’s talk about Mental Health”
Happy April Fool’s Day to all you old Fools out there. Another ludicrous day to mark something or other ridiculous. With its origins dating all the way back to the 14th Century, apparently April Fool’s Day is good for one’s health – a tonic to encourage laughter, diminish stress and reduce the strain on one’s heart. That would be for all of 24 hours. And then it’s back to normal Folks – we can carry on being miserable buggers. Phew. Continue reading “Call me a Fool, but…”
Recently, I was out on an adult-only evening which involved completing a meal in its entirety, whilst simultaneously engaging in civilised conversation, when my very adult friend asked if I would like to join her new book club. A book club? [I scoffed]. Now there’s a laugh. Isn’t that where grown-ups meet on a regular basis to unlock the hidden depths and common threads running through mutually selected texts, whilst nibbling on fancy flavoured nuts and tippling on tiny tots of sherry? My very adult friend took a sip of her robust-looking red, whilst I choked on my neon-looking pop and declined her invitation promptly. Captain Underpants and the Attack of the Talking Toilets would be lost on her club.
Continue reading “Diary of a Wimpy Mum”
There’s something about heels that makes a woman feel good. Whether or not we look good is an entirely different matter. However, the fact remains that tall heels, kitten heels, stiletto heels, cone heels, spool heels, chunky heels – whatever your preference, heels make us feel sh*t hot. For there’s something about slipping into a pair of heels that instantly transforms a woman. From skivvy to sexy, elephant to elegant, mum to MILF. No matter who she becomes, the woman in heels has elevated herself to a whole new level. And she means business. Continue reading “Hot Heels”
Last week someone, who shall remain anonymous, came to me with a problem. It was quite out of character. And it was quite out of the blue. A shocking self-discovery that took myself and this someone, who shall remain anonymous, rather by surprise.
As problems go, it wasn’t catastrophic. There was no narcotic addiction, there was no other man, there were no gambling debts. Thank Goodness, there was no terminal illness, no manic depression, no mid-life crisis. In fact, this particular problem was less a problem and more a stark observation. And as with a common cold or a niggling cough, the problem was actually uncomplicated. Easily self-remedied, given half the chance. But by its very simplistic nature, it was all the more startling. Continue reading “Tickle Me Quick”
It’s been a while. Have you missed me? On second thoughts, don’t answer that. For since we last met, I’ve become increasingly accustomed to using the F word. Whereas it’s not a word I would use frivolously, I’ve grown to feel rather comfortable with the way it just rolls of the tongue in an incredibly gratifying way. And loaded with an emotion and an enormous strength that no other word can afford, the F word knows how to satisfy me in a way that nothing else can. Not even you, who knows me so well. Or so you think.
For whilst you were gone, something happened to me. Something that took me fully by surprise. And despite only being teased by the transience of the moment, this particular moment was undeniably momentous. Not to mention memorable. So memorable in fact, that this singular moment can be pinpointed to a sleeping policeman on a bridge crossing over a motorway at ten-to-nine on a dreary morning in December. For it was whilst flying over this bump, amid the grinding groans of over-worked windscreen wipers, the monotonous moans of sluggish school-kids in the back and the distant drones of the tedious traffic crawling beneath me, that I discovered it. A fleeting feeling that catapulted me momentarily to a most coveted space somewhere beyond infinity, to the very top of the world. A soothing sensation that sent ripples of serene totality and blissful wholeness throughout my body. An epiphanic state of self-completion that incredibly I wasn’t aware I’d been lacking all these years. What became of me in that instant was an unforeseen but unequivocal sense of Fulfilment. The F word: fully-fledged, flawless and finger-lickin’ly good. Fulfilment: pure and simple, yet achieved almost by accident. What a coup! Continue reading “The F Word”
Sequel to “Trust me, I’m your Instinct” & “362 Day Resolve”
It wasn’t difficult to win me over. In fact, it was only a matter of time before I’d submit. Yet again. Not content with my lot. A sucker for some sensation. Maybe it was the risky scent of danger that lingered after last time, or the addictive taste of adrenaline that laced my lips and played temptress with my mind. Or perhaps it was the garrulous grumblings of a gut, whose deeply instinctive groans and aches had simply got the better of me again. Either way, Mills and Boon eat your hearts out, my appetite was wet. There was only one thing on my mind. And just when you thought you knew me so well, I’d ditched the status quo and was making headline news again. Well, about as headline as any Facebook status goes. Continue reading “Knowing is Believing”
Decision making is not one of my talents. Big ones, small ones – you name it, resolute decisions are just not my bag. And when it comes to having to actually make them, I can usually be found perched on the fence, dithering between the varying shades of green on either side. Decisive I am not. Continue reading “Trust me, I’m your Instinct”
Recently I have become partial to a glass (or two) of wine. Not white, not red, but somewhere in the middle, chilled to a desired degree and of a specific vine. Now those of you who know me well, will agree that this is an astounding achievement. Nigh on teetotal, the “cheap date” cliche has forever been my most well-received party trick. However, with nagging nerves and stress levels hitting unprecedented highs, it was clear that something had to be called in. Something stronger than an insipid camomile tea or a gallon of Rescue Remedy. And with the glistening bottle in easy reach (plus more mellow, fruity vibes chilling in reserve), it’s no wonder the last few weeks have born witness to a remarkable transformation in me.
A little bit of what you fancy can’t hurt, right? Continue reading “A little bit of what you fancy”