Blogging from Down Under

Archive for the month “April, 2015”

This time last year . . .(Better late than never)

So now that I’m sort of back on track with the Ol’ blog age I realised that I have a number of blogs in my drafts and I am not sure why I didn’t post them. 

So I thought, better 5 months late than never eh! Hopefully after reading it you’ll feel that missing void that you could never quite put your finger on, has been filled. 

Or you’ll wonder why I bothered – but still hey ho here we go! 

Things were so different when I look back to this time last year.

Last year baby Bear was just 9 days old so a lot of it is actually a bit of a blur in my memory due to the multiple night wakings, cluster feedings and having only just been released from hospital.

I remember Christmas Day last year being a pretty quiet one. Husb basically single handedly ran the Christmas show while I was attached the sofa all day with a tiny baby attached to me.

This year was a whole load of different, the Bear was so much more into the whole Santa thing even more than last year. This year he understood it all so much more and he has been singing Christmas songs since the 1st December.

And the baby Bear is her own little person now, she still doesn’t get the present business, so the Bear basically got to open 2 lots of presents under the premise of ‘helping’ her, but it was all very cute.

It was  a small one – just the four of us and given the fact that my mum has just returned to the UK after visiting us  it was quiet.

This is when I miss being in the UK, missing out on the big family get togethers, catching up with old old friends.

An aussie Christmas takes a bit of getting used to, the heat is just – weird!

Merry Christmas xxxx


I’m still here . . .

So, long time no see, or hear, or in fact any form of communication at all. 

My Bad – Soz!

You’ve probably either

a) completely forgotten about me or

b) wondered if I have disappeared off the face of the planet


b) then a)

Well, you’ll be ecstatic so see that I am in fact still around.

The truth of it is that organisation is not one of my key strengths and I’ve had quite a lot going on of late so the blog was the thing to suffer – then I got out of the habit of doing it, then I had not been into it for so long, I couldn’t remember my password, then I inputted the wrong one 3 times and well you get the gist eh!

Still its all good – here I am.

Aaaaanyway, moving on from my (very slight) blog hiatus in the time that I have not been blogging, I’ve changed.

Yes, it has been a while and it was the other day that I realised, when looking in the mirror, that I no longer recognise myself.


My sister has been staying with us, she’s gone home now boo, sad face etc but we decided to go out for a meal together on her last night to say bye and get drunk.

Now I don’t get out very often, so the prospect of going out for a nice meal was very exciting and despite it being a school night, I thought I’d doll myself up a bit in honour of the occasion.

I showered etc and was about to apply my ‘bombshell’ makeup when I realised that my skin was the colour of mushroom soup and looked as dry as the outback. Quickly realising that no amount of brightening foundation was going to sort it  out I thought I would give myself a quick face scrub to slough off all the dead skin and attempt to bring it to life.

Unfortch, no face scrub left – dammit.

So next best thing, I fashioned together a detoxifying facial scrub from my kitchen cupboard.

Yep, thats right – the kitchen.

Next thing I know I have a thick sticky combo of mashed avocado, coconut oil and himalayan rock salt smushed all over my face!

I’ve got to be honest – I’m not entirely sure what possessed me, but I scrubbed away until I could scrub no more (and drew some blood – oops) before finally rinsing off to reveal bright shining and red raw skin underneath.

I may have gone a touch overboard.

Still, onwards and upwards, I moisturised and applied my makeup as usual and I’ve got to say the end result wasn’t half bad. . . .

But . . . .

And there is always a but . . . .

I may have overdone it with the salt, my lips stung a lot. Giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘beestung lips’, plus – and this is not an insignifacant one, all my food tasted like salt,

Salty chicken liver pate anyone?

Can I tempt you with salty venison?

How about salty pistachio souffle?

Still, it wasn’t all bad, at least we got some money off our bill – I mean it’s not my fault the chef can’t season the food properly is it?



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