All posts filed under: Life

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The Greek God(zilla) Strikes Again!

The Greek God(zilla) is well-known for his DIY skills, although not necessarily in a good way. There was the time he decided to patch up the house using parcel tape, and another when he tried his hand at bleeding a radiator following an intensive 2.07 minute YouTube tutorial. Last summer, after an external water pressure incident affected our entire neighbourhood, the Greek God(zilla) attempted to repressurise the boiler after growing impatient for the problem to be resolved ‘officially’. He pressed a button – that he was advised not to press – and inevitably flooded the kitchen! When we ran out of available saucepans and buckets to catch the flow, I took the decision to evacuate our son to a nearby friend’s house to wait it out. A few hours and HUNDREDS of pounds later, the house was dry enough to return. For months, we have been incident free and the Greek God(zilla) has resisted the urge to touch any buttons that he does not understand, including the Apple TV remote and my MacBook Air. But, it would appear that the temptation was just too …

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Doing our bit for Sport Relief

For the last few years, I have joined Team Honk – a group of bloggers who fundraise for Comic and Sport Relief – to raise money for people living in extreme poverty here in the UK and abroad. In 2014, we took a Monopoly-themed tour of London… And, last year we danced for 6 hours non-stop at Wembley… So far, Team Honk has raised almost £100,000 for Comic and Sport Relief and it is incredible to have been a small part of that. This year, we knew we had to do something bigger and better if we wanted to really smash our target. With requests for sponsorship landing in inboxes several times a week, we knew we had to push ourselves out of our comfort zone to get noticed this year. It was my blogging partner in crime, HPMcQ, who came up with the idea of trying to break the world record for visiting the most amount of tube stations in a day. Yes, she is mad, but there is method in her madness – we are both …

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The Key Bowl

In our hallway, there is a glass bowl that was originally placed there for decorative purposes but has recently started being used to home sunglasses, Lego men, lipstick and keys. Every morning before I leave the house, I delve into the bowl to retrieve my house keys and as soon as I walk back through the door, I drop them into the bowl again. I do not keep my keys in my bag, my coat pocket, or on the kitchen table. They always go in the bowl, that’s just the way it is. Other stuff sometimes finds it way into the bowl too, but only as a temporary resting place from the stairs to the place they really belong. However, one morning earlier this week when I was about to leave for the school run, my keys were not where they were supposed to be. I searched behind the bowl, down the back of the chest the bowl sits on, and then emptied the contents of the bowl out on the hallway floor. I found smarties, loose coins and a …

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Lighten up

I went out to have drinks with a group of local friends recently. We met at the same place we always do, sat at the same table, drank the same wine and ordered the same food we know we love. We are certainly creatures of habit when it comes to our monthly night out, but one thing that can never be predicted is the things we will talk about that will have us bent over laughing. We were in particularly high spirits on this night – there had been good health news for one, a new client for another, and a rather dramatic episode of Grey’s Anatomy to discuss – but we are a group of women in our 40s-70s, so while our conversation may have been a bit animated, we were not exactly knocking back shots and dancing on the tables. So, we were a bit surprised when a couple sitting on a nearby table complained about us so loudly that we could hear them over our own excited babble. They were offered a table in a quieter part of the buzzy restaurant, which they refused, preferring to be …

When all else fails

Dear Red Wine

I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Actually, this is not strictly true. My first memory is of my sister being born when I was 2½ years old and orange squash was the only juice in my cup. However, had I experienced such a traumatic event 20-years later, I am sure you would have provided invaluable support. As an adult – following a brief fling with vodka, lime & soda and a few awkward experiences with white wine – it is you I have turned to at celebrations, commiserations and Saturday nights in front of the telly with a curry on my lap. I have taken you to dinner parties, asked for you in pubs and restaurants, and showed extreme bias towards you in supermarket wine aisles. I have also enjoyed getting to know all the variations of you. From fruity Merlots and robust Cab Savs to lighter-bodied Pinot Noirs and Beaujolais, but it was Rioja that finally stole my heart. We did not have to see each other very often, but …