Being A Domestic Goddess.....?

Whether we love or hate it, deprive ourselves or gorge ourselves on it, avoid it or are consumed by thoughts of it, our relationship with food is a funny one. We spend a large portion of our salary on it, we make lists about it and we day dream about it.

Given the times we live in you don't have to look far to find copious amount of information (some correct, others less so) around eating disorders. From anorexia, bulimia, body dismorphia , obesity and mixed complex diagnoses - the world is no longer in the dark to the complex and destructive relationships we can have with food. Food is as essential to our existence as the air we breath, the water we drink and the sleep we have nightly yet we use it and abuse it without much thought for its value. It's as comforting and fundamental as the love we are surrounded by and yet can destroy us if we let it.

Whilst food can be our enemy it can also be part of our relationships and memories. The cup of tea, generous slice of lemon cake and tissues pushed in front of you as the tears flow by your mum. The bacon sandwiches, warming cups of tea, snuggled up on cold winter mornings with a certain someone. The family chattering loudly over each other as the signature dishes are served (for us its the motherships chicken basque and pavlova, all homemade. She is THE meringue queen!). The icy champagne glasses clink in celebration between sisters at their success and the smell of fresh coffee and cake as a friend shares her wonderful news, all amazing memories.

As I sit here writing this blog I am eating. This is very normal for me. The eat, type cycle helps, well I think! So far for this blog I have consumed some sushi, a home made strawberry smoothie, an apple and a cookie from a batch a friend baked me. As I munch and reflect on my relationship with food I have to admit that food is a funny one to me. I love and hate it in equal measures. I've controlled it, manipulated it and demanded more of it than it can ever give. I've used it to fuel me and to comfort me. I've given with it and I've deprived myself to go with out it and yet despite the role it has played in learning to love my body, I have so many wonderful memories of food. Whether I'm eating it, making it or lusting (yes literally) after it I am a total foodie (even got that one trending on Twitter!!) I love nothing more than spending a day baking, cooking and marinating. I love the giving to family and friends who wait hungrily, forks raised in anticipation of what ever delight may be coming out of the kitchen next. I love the catharticness of the stirring, blending and mixing, the reassuring quiet hum of the oven and the fragrant smell filling your soul. Now I'm not claiming to be a domestic goddess (although I have been jokingly called the Nigella of the North, but maybe people are referring to other assets?!) and I'm certainly no GBBO potential candidate (that would be my incredibly talented sister) but I love the way food brings people together. The laughter, the tears and problems solved over a delicious treat. This isn't to say I have haven't had some epic fails along the way but these have made some of the funniest memories. The time I made sundried tomato hummus so solid no one could dip into it, the mince pies I accidentally cremated and attempted to serve covered in cream one boxing day and the time the pancake stuck on the ceiling..... All relative disasters but the best part of the memory of all these adventures is the giggles from the beautiful people whom I was sharing them with. And maybe that's what this food game is all about, sharing. As the delicious delights are split between the people we love and they smile, full of treats, stories and memories made I'm inclined to think, what in life could be better? xX

Getting Over Before You Get Under......xX

Do you think of her when you're with me? Repeat the memories you made together, who's face do you see?

Do you wish I was a bit more like her? Am I too loud?, I play the clown,to cover up all these doubts.

Perfect heart, she's flawless!
She's the other woman,
Shining in her splendour,
You were lost,

Now she's gone
And I'm picking up the pieces,
I watch you cry,
But you don't see That I'm the one by your side......

- Paloma Faith

So what happens when you are a single girl about town, living the dream. Doing what you want, when you want, how you want. You have amazing friends, wonderful family, live your dreams to the full and the weekends are an adventure into the unknown that you can barely wait to happen and a potential prince charming unexpectedly pops up?

As with all men the timing is maybe rubbish, his white stead may be a little rusty and Disney certainly never mentioned that he may be initially verbally inept but never the less he arrives and your interest has been piqued.

So before you start down a potential. new and exciting path there a certain questions that need to be answers. Not about him ladies, but about you. Are you ready for this, is this what you want and are you really over the ex to get under a new man......?


No one wants the feeling that there are three people in your relationship – you, your man and the ex? Do you talk or email your ex a lot? Or maybe you have an unhealthy grudge, or you are preoccupied with what he is doing now? If any of this sounds familiar, it may mean that you haven't completely let go yet. And ladies this can work both ways, does this sound like your man.....?

1. The Waiting Game -
Okies so no matter how well a relationship ended or how angry you are at some one, bottom line is they take TIME to get over. Time to move on, break old habits and time to heal. There are hopes and dreams we have when we get into a relationship that we lose when we lose that relationship and it takes some time to get over those things. If you were together a long time you clearly need more than a couple of weeks before you are over the ex.

2. Crossed Wires -
When did you fall prince charming? Before the end of your current relationship? Is it just an excuse to end your current relationship. Or are you just telling him that in a bid to prove you are over your ex within days when really you are not? Jumping from on person to another doesn't give you any time on your own to process the demise of that previous relationship so you could run into the same problems as before. Once bitten, twice shy ladies......


3. The Extremity -
If you can only talk about your ex in extremes it is not a good sign you are over him. If you can’t say your ex’s name without gagging this is another warning you may need more single time. If you can't resist talking about him constantly, and he is either the most wonderful thing in the world or the most terrible thing in the world, you might want to question why. There are two people in every relationship and two sides to every story. Being honest ladies there is no way your ex was as wonderful or evil as you make out. You need to be in a place where you can honestly look back at both the good and bad times as well as admit what your own flaws, not just what theirs are.

4.Cutting The Ties -
Can you do it? Can you break the habit of contact? Can you stop looking at his Facebook page? Can you give him his belongings back? Are you still obsessively thinking about what was? Hanging on to anything that would ensure you have to be in contact? Or are you trying to hurt him to get a reaction? If so ladies, you know you need more time, more tears to be over him.

5. Obsession -
If you still want to know whats happening in his life, resort to asking his friends to look at his social networking pages and bear some ridiculous venomous need for revenge, now is not the time for a new man. Are you wanting to revisit places you went with the ex with your new man? Are you attracted to your new man because he is trying to be like your ex? If so ladies you are not finished, you haven't done your grieving.

There is a theory that it takes half the time you were with some one to get over them and this may or may not be true for you. Grieving a break up is a very personal thing that can only be done in your own time and style. For me personally I know I'm over some one when I can look back on both the good and bad times in a neutral way. I genuinely wish nothing but the best for any of my ex's, we shared some amazing times. So to let someone go when you know that they are not right for you is the kindest thing you can do. To set each other free so you can run with your dreams, dance with adventure and find that perfect person for you ..... xX

Don't look back in anger.....xX

Gracious goes the ghost of you
And I will never forget the plans and the silhouettes you drew here and
Gracious goes the ghost of you
My dear......

- Ben Howard.


The break up - Maybe you broke his heart, maybe he broke yours, but being honest the chances are you maybe broke each others a little bit. Break ups get messy and maybe the ex turned out to be liar, maybe he showed zero respect to you or even what you had, maybe you regret the part you played and whilst you have forgiven, lessons have been learnt and not forgotten.

But through the inevitable lies, tears and pain it can be hard to remember this was once a man who claimed to not just love you but adore you. Who wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Who hid gifts from your favourite beauty brand (Benefit for the record...) all over a hotel room for you as a surprise. Who came back from a lads holiday with your favourite Dior perfume just because he missed you, who admired, even respected you as a professional and who held you when you sobbed after a difficult day. The man who at one time could make you smile just by being him, who for just a period of time shared your dreams and hopes.

It's so hard to remember the good times when we are blinded by hurt and pain. No one wants to look back and remember the happy times you laughed together, the time you made sushi (and it went so very wrong you got very drunk instead), when he sent you flowers because no one ever had, when he decorated the bathroom as a surprise and the time he made your favourite breakfast in bed as a surprise. It's easier and more comforting to remember the awful holiday, the massive arguments and the times you felt totally unsupported.

A couple of months ago I was driving along, enjoying the late summer sun (the teeny bit we had!), radio blasting, windows right down, when 'our song' came on. Not the Elton John version but the one song an ex and I had shared (admittedly with one ex it was old EJs funnily enough). Any how as my mind drifted briefly to what was now long gone I stopped at traffic lights. Glancing up fate was clearly having a laugh when said ex of 'our song' was stood there, waiting to cross the road and could clearly hear the radio blasting out off my car. There was a split second where neither if us knew what to do, I was certainly inwardly cringing, then his face broke into 'that' smile I knew so well. As he raised his hand to say hi and I acknowledged him back there was a moment of clarity. I have to admit sometimes that I don't want to see the good times. It's easier to be angry at someone than to be honest and say the happy memories still ache a little bit. Not in a wanting to get back together way, not even in an I miss you kind of way, just in a once upon a time I was your world and we were so close but I don't even know you now way. It is so hard in a break up to pin point exactly where something went so wrong. I genuinely believe that no one is blameless. It takes two of you to create happy memories and it takes two of you to argue and hurt each other. Within seconds the lights changed and like with the relationship, I moved on. Ready to face another chapter with the faith that love is a label that never goes out of fashion.....xX

Beach babe, cruise queen or a beautilious back packer....?

Not all who wander are lost -
JR Tolkien

As we choose to wander the path less often taken it can open our mind to new places, new people and (whether we we want it too or not) new thoughts and feelings. Rambling off the everyday track can force us to look at ourselves, our life's and reassess our own goals. It is a much discussed topic and it's widely believed that travel really does open the mind, and with an open mind we can be a little more comfortable and content with both ourselves and our lives. And ladies, who doesn't want that!

So what happens when you choose a change over a rest and that change comes in the form of an adventure to another place? Before you grab your passport, bank card, most of this seasons AllSaints and a hand full of the required currency you need to ask what kind of holiday are you after? Are you a beach babe, a cruise queen or a beautilious back packer? What do you want from your trip, what are you hoping to achieve and what matters to you? There is so much choice and it can all get a little overwhelming. Who do you go with? When do go? If only we were still children and our parents booked us on to the family holiday, no questions asked!

The most popular has to be the beach break. Sun, sea, sand and lot of what ever else you want. Bikinis, diets and screams with the girls whipped up on demand, liberally sprinkled with drunken rows, sun burnt shoulders and sand in places there shouldn't be!

Then there are the cruising queens, and who can resist seeing so many places in such a short time. It can be a holiday dream, a tiny taster of lots of little things, all whilst enjoying the luxuries of a floating all inclusive hotel. Perfect if you are happy to watch the world as opposed to join in.....

And then there are the travellers. Those who are happy to throw a back pack on their back, throw caution to the wind and head off, often into the totally unknown. Maybe for the experience, maybe for the knowledge, maybe just for the sheer adrenaline rush or maybe it's a mix of all three. They don't mind missing the odd hair wash and the only certainty they have is when they return they will bring back the smelliest bag of wet clothes ever.... not pleasant!

I have to hold my hands up at this point and be very honest, I'm a total traveller. Ruck sacks full of dirty washing, dry shampoo and going weeks with a mani/pedi is completely fine by me as long as I'm having an adventure. Riding elephants through the ruins of a fort in Jaipur, eating the most amazing kofta in a roof top cafe in a shanty town in Rajasthan and tying strips of red string into tiny knots to make a wish at a flower covered shrine in Bharatpur are all part of an amazing experience. Who could forget whizzing though the streets of Agra late at night, screaming with friends and laughter as the tuc tuc you were in veered all over the roads, narrowly missing people, cars and cows...?! It's the people you meet, the stories you swap and the random conversations you sit up all night having sipping masala chai....

Now to be clear I am not judging anyone's holiday choices, but merely discussing my own preference which I feel, having experienced other types of holiday I can do. I'm not the kinda gal who feels I have 'seen' somewhere having stepped off a ship for a day trip with a guide (shock horror!) nor am I comfortable spending my evenings trussed up like a Christmas turkey eating 3 course plus meals with the nouveau riche on an over priced boat. My appalling short attention span prevents me from spending my days lying by a pool (I do LOVE that idea though) and the thought of pulling a random boy in a bar makes my tummy turn as does wearing nothing but a bikini all week. So there it is, I have the traveller bug and I fear it is terminal!

On my latest adventure I had the pleasure of having several hours to kill with a fellow traveller I had met along the way. Discussing that we felt like outcasts as normal holidays weren't our 'thing' he imparted these words of wisdom to me -

Travellers make up a very special 2%of people. They are loners who need to be free yet they are incredibly sociable and friendly.

His words touched me and as we went our separate ways I knew his works would stay with longer than our travels had lasted. That's the true beauty of travel, it opens our hearts and our minds to who we really are ..... xX

Thank you India...... xX

Thank you India,
Thank you terror,
Thank you disillusionment,
Thank you frailty,
Thank you consequence,
Thank you, thank you silence.
- Alanis Morrisette


There comes a time in a girls life when you just have to do what you have to do. Be it change jobs, move house, leave a relationship or find an adventure, sometimes something just has to give. The old proverb tells us a change is as good as a rest, so wether its a change or a rest you are after it can only do you good.

There is nothing worse than looking at your own life and realising it is like something from a horror film. As you stand there astounded at how you even got there, the winds of change begin to circle you and as your tummy flips with excitement you know it's time to look up at the crossroads you have found yourself at. With a deep breath it's time to step into this seasons Prada's, pack your trusted Mulberry, put on your favourite Bobbi Brown lipstick, head towards your happy ever after and that change you need.

So when we feel it's the change we need, what do we do? Write a todo this? Reflect on our goals and aspirations? Seek out inspiration maybe? Often it's a case of looking inside ourselves and going back to who we are. Which dreams have fallen by the way side? Which hopes had you given up on? And what truly makes you happy?

Now bearing in mind I'm more of a change than a rest kinda gal, with an addiction to anything that causes adrenaline to course through my body at a million miles an hour, it was roughly a year ago to the day that I woke up in my own nightmare and began to slowly sew the seeds of change. Fastforward 365 days filled with laughter, tears and soul searching and I find myself looking at an overstuffed ruck sack, an arm full of jabs and a well thumbed copy of the Rough Guide to India. So it's with excitement that I log off for a few weeks now, knowing that I'm living, not just talking about, the dream...... xX

5am @ LHR .......

So this is a random little blog post and it breaks with my usual blogging style, well it's not every morning you find yourself sat in Pret at 5am checked into a flight to Delhi! I'm not really what I would call a 'diary blogger' and my style is a bit more, well unique but whilst I have a long 4 hours to kill and no one in the UK is awake for me to natter to I thought I'd blog my thoughts and ramblings before I trot off to India (and you thought there would be peace and quiet!!). Before any one panics or starts jumping up and down don't worry, I'm not going all narcissistic on you, promise!! I don't want to bore you with the mundane minutes of my life, I am aware I am not that important and you are not interested in what I ate or what shade of nail varnish Im wearing (OPI passion incase you were wondering!!) Nor am I going to start 'modelling' pics of myself in the toilet (classy) to bulk out my droning on about rubbish. It is more a collection of my thoughts, feelings and maybe reflections as I start this adventure. Oh and some pics of the things I've seen on the way......


05.15 - Checked in via my iPhone, which they just scanned! Clever stuff! the adventure begins...

05.20 - Cleared security with nothing more than a frantic grope from a security guard, progress on my normal security/ check in traumas!

05.30 - Look for my flight on the board, no flight to Delhi is there. Mini moment of panic, realise as I'm flying via Vienna I need to look for there! Flight found, calmness resumed and the search for coffee begins...


05.45 - No Starbucks in T1 at LHR so make do with Pret, hell at this point coffee is coffee! Start thinking about Vienna. I read somewhere that Vienna was the second best city in the world. Wondering now where the first one is, have a sneaky suspicion it won't be Delhi..... Or Hull for that matter....

06.00 - Duty Free (officially known as world wide shopping or my biggest down fall....) has opened. This could be an epic fail. Resisting temptations of duty free isn't my forte. The MAC make up counter is winking at me, whispering my name, urging me to spend all my money. I'm standing firm, distracting myself with thoughts of butter chicken, kohl eyeliner and henna body art. It's not particularly working. A little look won't hurt, will it ...?

06.30 - Enjoyed a whole half an hour playing with pretty make up and chatting to a make up artist swapping tips. Resisted buying anything. The motherships parting shot as I left last night was 'avoid the Chanel counter in duty free Kate please. You DO NOT need another lipstick....' As I opened my mouth to reply I was an adult, I would buy what I wanted, she then followed it up with 'don't forget what happened in Prague, the plane won't wait for you, you know!' I abruptly remembered the incident involving a flight home from Prague, the Chanel counter and a nail varnish that I *NEEDED!* Even now when I look back I'm not entirely convinced that I needed it that much and it was worth the hassle it caused! Lesson learnt, I must depart duty free at least half an hour before my flight.....

06.45 - Beginning to wonder at what point I thought it was a brilliant idea to go to India. Alone. Whydo i think these things up?!! Dad's words of 'I will expect to get you back in a box' rattle round my head. Consider doing risk assessment on the situation. I wouldn't want to see the answer. Start to rationalise crazy thoughts via a support plan in my head. Distraction techniques are needed here. Realise I need to switch off form work. Head back to Pret in search of food for a distraction.

07.00 - Munching and pondering why I couldn't be happy on a nice 18-30's to Ibiza. But aweek in the sun, with barely dressed people copping off all over the place isn't my thing. Life would be easier and the motherships stress levels lower if it was. No, I'm heading to an impoverished 3rd world country, rife with crime and (I imagine) a hatred for small blonde English girls they may want to put in a box....

07.15 - Still in a total panic about if I packed the right clothes. Not in a 'I'm so vain and want to look fabulous way' more off a 'I don't want to be arrested for indecent exposure by inadvertently wearing the wrong thing' kinda way.


07.25 - Spend 10 mins worrying about dad getting home ok. Get a call announcing he is at McDonalds eating breakfast. He makes me promise to not tell the mothership he is having a double sausage and egg mc muffin but to say he is having porridge and fruit.... I agree knowing I wasn't destined for heaven anyway and hell is warmer. I'd probably also know more people there....

07.50 - Mad group of ladies dressed in full Victorian attire arrive. Can't work out if they are some strange hen weekend or if they just dress that way as a style. Totally intrigued. Trying to find a table to people watch as I'm not sure I'm pulling off nonchalantly leaning...

07.55 - Smile nicely at one of the crazy Victorian style ladies. She smiles back. Take a risk and ask politely why they are so wonderfully dressed. Barely able to contain my excitement at her answer my mind runs at a million miles an hour, had I found a cult vintage couture following...? Were they wearing original, restored garments...? We're they a walking exhibit from the V&A.....? My heart and smile sank when she politely explained that they were the 'Sherlock Holmes Society of London'. Fixing my smile in place, I listened intently (thank god for a BA in Perf Arts, occasionally comes in useful) for 10 whole minutes whilst she gushed about the group and what they did complete with an offer for me to join. I politely declined, explaining I was off to Delhi but maybe another time*......

*on the never ever

08.10 - Think about the friends I have currently dotted across the world and contemplate switching flights. Suddenly I'm wondering why I didn't choose Hong Kong, Thailand orNew Zealand. Even Florida or Holland. Some where I would at least know one person. Try and work out the time differences. They might be awake for a a chat....

08.30 - Start thinking about food (what's new) it's an odd thing but the moment I leave the uk I start to crave food you can only get here and that I rarely touch on a day to day basis. Ribena is a great example, can't remember that last time I bought some over here, put me on the East Coast of America and I all wanted some of the purple stuff! From vendors in Italy that sold hot pizza slices to eating pigeon crossed leg on the floor in Morocco to sushi in Shanghai to fresh caught bush beast ( NOT roast beef as i thought it was!) in Africa I am quite happy to try anything. The Chinese family sat opposite me appear to be eating dried fish skins, think I will stick to coffee this early on.....

08.45 - Flight gate finally appears on the board inducing a mini moment of excitement. 30 minutes to go!!!

08.47 - Sitting outside gate 16 when I realise I should be at gate 47. A nearby sign informs me that's a 30 min walk away. F**k!!

09.10 - Appears the running i have done has paid off, thrust paper work at the boarding officer, smile nicely, board the plane with crossed fingers I'm sat next to some one nice else it's gonna be a long few hours....!

Right I'm off now (really this time!!) love to you all and will keep you updated as I can :D xX

For mum

Age is a funny old thing. It plays tricks on us, takes things from us things we love and in turn kindly heals us when we need healing. Having recently turned the big 3-0 I'm certainly not old but definitely older. And whilst I've been consumed with thoughts of botox and how to avoid 17 year old waiters who ask you out (seriously, NO!) the world has of course been turning with much more serious matters.

It's only as we get older to we realise that whilst we worry about the small the stuff such as make up, clothes and having fun the big stuff can come along and kick us at any time. As we plod along our previously untrodden road we often encounter things we thought we would never have to consider, that are totally out side us or our control.

One of the most painful lessons, I believe, we learn as an adult is that people get ill, that we are not as invincible as we thought we were and neither are the people we love.

As an adult having to worry about a parent is a whole new experience (I realise I am fortunate here that I am an adult and not much younger) So as I sit here now, at 5 am, wide awake, worrying, thinking and pondering about my mum, I realise that this is what it must have been like for her 30 years ago. The enormity of the role change is overwhelming and it hits me just how much this amazing woman did for me. Whilst I'm doing this for a short period of time, she spend years clothing me, looking after me, feeding me, pacing up and down worrying about me (and I did cause her some worry!!)

I have seen her as a mother who taught me so much, who told me off when i came home from playing out covered in mud, with grazed knees and elbows, to the parent who through my teenage years be came the keeper of everything I wanted to do. My hems lines were always too short and tops too low cut, curfews were argued and angry words said. I cringe at the amount of times I slammed the door in her face, swearing I would never come back. I have seen her as a woman in her own right, with her own challenges and demons to deal with. The way she has inspired me professionally and her incredible, unsung artistic talents. She actually really has an answer for everything I'm sure!! Often I confuse her, we are so very different. She can't understand how I can function without an iron (or ironing board for that matter) my organized chaos drives her mad and I'm sure her favourite hobby is cupboard watch in my kitchen (whats wrong with having nothing in your fridge except wine...?!) But then she always says 'you can't keep the sun in a box' and just like that she gets me.

I'm not sure she has always loved my phone calls home with my brilliant ideas including and not exhausting
- I'm going to India!! On my own....
- I'm at the airport flying to Africa and realised I bought the wrong travel insurance. Africa isn't in Europe....
- I have accidentally put my car in a central reservation of the A1...
- I have just put a kitchen knife in the top of my hand, what should I do...?

My mum reassures herself I'm one of those highly intelligent people who have no common sense and I haven't the heart to break it to her that I'm not that. I'm actually neither.....

Venturing to the kitchen to get another cuppa I pass a mirror and catch sight of my reflection. It's a horror picture of puffy, pale skin, dark bag ridden sunken eyes and wild crazy lady hair but for today it doesn't matter, all I care about is her recovery. As long as she is ok, tomorrow a facial and some touché éclat will work a miracle that I can pay for, your health, well you can't buy that.....xX