Alcohol has always been a big part of my life for as long as I can (hazily) remember. It’s always been there, lurking in the background, at every family event, every BBQ, every nightclub, every wedding. A night out wouldn’t be complete without a drink in my hand. I can remember various booze related things growing up. I remember having sips of my dad’s beer when I was little, and sips of wine on holidays, I remember one Xmas Eve with family friends when I was about fourteen or fifteen, my siblings and friends children got me rather drunk, my dad had to help me walk home and I had my first hangover the next day – it was horrific, but clearly didn’t put me off. I remember my mum picking me up from a pub where I’d been with older friends and had promised not to drink. My wobbly bambi legs gave me away, that and the fact that I fell through the open front door. My teenage years meant underage drinking – always cider round the friends house whose parents would let us drink. Then there was drinking in the pubs we got served in and there was the raiding of drinks cabinets to take concoctions out in plastic bottles. Then there was university and my twenties, boxes of punch, shots, wrestling – but that’s another story altogether. It’s all been a rather wonderful, boozy cycle.
Firstly, my title rhymes! I totally meant to do that. Moving on. Anyone who has been watching the incredibly eye opening Blue Planet on BBC One, can’t fail to have started to feel something (unless you have no soul) about the amount of plastic and general waste that is blighting our planet and oceans. For those who don’t know, the programme shows exceptional images of the sea and the creatures within it, but it also shares images of turtles with beer rings wrapped around their necks, fish making homes in plastic bottles and debris washing up on far flung tropical beaches. Marine debris in the North Pacific ocean is thought to be 6 times the size of the UK. It’s thought that one rubbish truck load of plastic litter enters the ocean every minute and every day millions of microplastics enter the sea from personal care products such as scrubs and toothpastes. Wow. Just wow. Read Twitter after each programme just to see the dramatic effect the programme is having. People are sitting up and taking notice. For some time now there have been worldwide groups organising beach clear ups, and here in the UK supermarkets and the Government are slowly starting to listen with a ban on free plastic shopping bags and microbeads in cosmetics being a start. But what, if anything can we do as a family to help this cause?
Crikey Moses people it’s 2018! I mean, how the heck did that happen?! I feel like I’ve blinked and 2017 has whooshed by me in a flash. It really was a whirlwind year and when I look back on it sadly, IVF is the main focus. What with appointments, injections, bloods taken, treatment, legs in the air and such like. It hasn’t all been bad, but I’d say it was one of those years that I’ll park in the ‘Let’s forget you for a while’ vault for now, thank you very much. Wanting to move on from my last post with something a bit more light hearted and having just had had my birthday (screaming face emoji) I wondered that, considering I’ll be turning 40 this year, what exactly have I learnt about myself thus far? What simple, silly things have these last 39 years taught me about ME, if anything?
I first ‘met’ Sunita, writer of Lucky Things blog via Instagram last year. Details of exactly when are a little hazy in my mind, a bit like a boozy first date. Shortly after meeting (I use this term in the ‘online’ sense) Sunita invited me along to an event she was hosting in London. It was apparently going to be a small, informal and friendly, with a fabulous Weleda arm massage thrown in for good measure. I didn’t know anyone else who was going, and having been to big blog and smaller meet ups before, I was a worried about feeling a bit lost. The big events I’ve been too, I’ve found to be rather impersonal, as those who already know each other use it as a chance to catch up (quite rightly) but the problem being that they tend to stick in their set groups (what’s a group of bloggers called? A Click perhaps, with all that phone and keyboard tapping?) And a few other more low-key, supposedly super friendly and pressure free meet ups that I’ve been to, I’ve found to be exactly what they were claiming not to be. So would going to Sunitas’ event leave me feeling on the outside?
Fathers day is fast approaching and it’s not just all about mothers day anymore and making a big fuss of mums, oh no. Dad’s quite rightly deserve a day all about them with just as much fuss and maybe even a gift or two (if they’ve been good). But if your dad or partner is anything like the men I know, then they are impossible to buy birthday presents for, let alone a fathers day gift. My dad doesn’t even bother giving me any ideas anymore and my husband says helpful things like, ‘you should write down all the things I mention throughout the year’ which obviously, I never do. So with no particular gift ideas in mind, I headed into Kingston, to the Bentall centre to see what inspiration I could gather.