Saturday, 28 November 2015

Saturday nights

In case you hadn't noticed folks, it's winter.
And you know what that means, don't you?
I mean apart from, the shredding trees and frosty mornings. And the dark nights and roaring fires. And the mugs of hot chocolate with melting marshmallows.
And apart from the hint of Christmas in the chilly air.
It's the X Factor live show on Saturday nights!
I no longer have any desire to leave my house on a Saturday night. Summer is s distant memory and Autumn is about to join her. The thought of venturing out into the black night fills me with horror.
No shivering walks and stuffy crowded bars for me. No thank you, sir.
The fairy lights are now officially in use, we are even contemplating lighting the real fire. The candles create coziness in the cottage corners.
At the beginning of Saturday nights, I can be found in the kitchen, preparing a banquet, dressed in my biggest smile and pinkest wine glass.
I've renamed the X factor live shows, 'Theme Nights' because hubby and I shall be visiting as many countries as we can, live from our sofa. Well, their cuisines at least.
Mexican night, Italian night and Greek night, to name a few. Food is sampled whilst the television is entertaining us with singing, dancing and voting. Which throws important questions into the air such as, who will leave tonight's show and who will be crowned the winner?
Not to mention, what shall we eat during our next 'Theme night'?
Oh yes, life is for living.
Particularly on a Saturday night.

A house is made of bricks and beams. A home is made of love and dreams.

Candles are alight. Can you tell they are actually fake? Far safer with Tommy.

And this beauty is fake.

Mexican night.

Italian night.

Greek night.

Before bedtime it's chocolate o'clock.

Saturday, 21 November 2015

Happy ever after

It's easy to be swept away with wedding preparations; the scheme, the details, the drama. So often, for a few moments, brides forget the real reason behind the big day; the vows, the commitment, the happy ever after.
I speak from experience because I remember, oh so clearly, planning our wedding. Agonising over shades of green and lilac, obsessing with finding the exact lace cupcake holder.
But who could blame a girl for wanting the perfect day? The one opportunity she may have to create (and spend) to her heart's content. And let's be frank, most girls dream about their wedding day from a very young age - the day their Prince Charming rescues them from their ivory tower. Or something like that.
Apart from the vows, I think the ultimate important factor to the day is all your family and friends together. Because this can be harder than it sounds with so many of us living busy lives, perhaps miles apart from each other.
It's a wonderful time to gather all family and friends and celebrate. Goodness knows this world can be a harsh place, we all need something to celebrate once in a while. To smile, laugh, dance and cheer.
Let's raise a glass and say, "Three cheers to weddings!"
Especially the one Mark and I enjoyed last weekend.

The memorable day.

Husband and wife.

Rose petals.

Let's not forget those who can't be with us. Sadly the bride's mother lost her battle with cancer a couple of years ago.

The props were very popular at the table.

My man.

Loved dessert.

That's us!

Let's all spread some...

Wednesday, 18 November 2015

The Postman Pat party

Tommy is rather partial to a man with bright orange hair, a comically over sized nose, round spectacles, and a blue suit.
He goes by the name of Pat, he's a postman, and he played a starring role in Tommy's 2nd birthday celebrations.
We had a Postman Pat themed party, with exclusive invites from the man himself.

Here he is on the birthday cake.

And on the cupcakes made by yours truly.

Which went down a storm with Tommy and his cousin Will.

We played pass the parcel, with Postman Pat paper and gifts.

Not a Postman Pat toy, but a popular gift never the less. Thanks granndad!

At the end of the little family birthday party, Postman Pat goody bags were handed to Tom and Will, with a PP jigsaw, bubbles, sweets, spectacles and game.

Thanks for helping make the day extra special, Pat. See you in your red van, with your black and white cat, very soon no doubt!

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Now he is 2

'Twas the night before Tommy's birthday, when all throu' the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Oh except mummy and daddy, who were blowing balloons, hanging bunting and banners, wrapping presents, listening to music and drinking wine.
Here's the result.

It was worth every single second to see his beaming face opening his presents.

Especially seeing him trying to figure out this one.

By the looks of it, he loved his garage.

And the fact we let him eat cake for breakfast.

Next was the outing to the Sensory Barn. Basically, a barn to increase children's senses.

With a tree house.

Plus tree house window.

And garage for daddy.

Then we had lunch. Accompanied with kisses.

I couldn't help thinking, although Tommy loved his healthy lunch, he was looking for cake.

Never fear, Nanny's house meant cake was near! Tommy, meet Colin the caterpillar.

Happy birthday to the most loving, characteristic, endearing, wonderful, cheeky chappy, we've ever been blessed to know.

Coming soon, the Postman Pat party. I expect you all to be waiting with baited breath.

Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Fair is where you buy pink candy floss

Have you ever been in a situation where you know it's unhealthy to dream of a positive outcome, you know it could be dangerous to your well-being to believe something could happen, yet you do it anyway?
Because sometimes, as much as you try to keep your feet firmly on the ground, you still imagine yourself flying high and all the wonderful things you could gain.
For a few enchanting moments, you believe you have conquered. And damn it feels good.
Then, wallop!
Reality hits you smack in the face.
Like a cold, wet, dead fish.
This is what happened to me last Wednesday, at roughly 3.13pm.
Despite telling myself not to over analyse or over wish, I did. Then my manager shattered all my illusions in one unfair sentence:
"That's why we have offered the job to Steve."
She gave the job to my colleague!
To add insult to injury, he was the guy I interviewed for my maternity cover.
He stole the job which should have been mine. Because apparently, I beat the external candidates, "Hands down."
And isn't it ironic that I wasn't even convinced about applying at first, until my manager encouraged me (twice) and I allowed myself to believe that I was the next Production Manager.
Plus the money was ever so good, it would have meant we could comfortably afford nursery fees. We could have moved to a bigger house, with a garden containing grass for Tommy to run about in, even a playroom for his vast growing toys, and an office for yours truly.
Yes I told myself not to get carried away, but I did anyway. Especially after my boss congratulated me on an excellent interview, praised me for my confidence, and highlighted all the necessary skills I possessed for the position.
Oh how I lost myself in fantasising about the recognition and respect. I've been working in publishing for twenty five years, after all. Surely it was time to be rewarded for my hard work and commitment?
At my current employment I have saved the company thousands of pounds, due to detailed and thorough tender processes, I have slogged away and ensured smooth handover procedures with new suppliers. I have built professional relationships externally and internally. I have demonstrated problem solving skills and proved I am motivated and able to multitask with many important projects.
I was robbed.
Steve earned four extra points than me due to his technical knowledge. A fact I was bitterly disappointed in as it was the one area I was concerned with, and my boss assured me not everyone would tick all the boxes.
Dear readers, I have had to swallow my pride and admit defeat in the most awkward manner.
I aint been happy about it.
I've had to pick myself up, brush myself down and start all over again. Then I've had to put things into perspective. I still have a job, we still have a roof over our heads and food in the cupboards.
It was nice to dream for a while.
Now normal services must resume.