I like a good bargain. I get a kick out of "free" money, and I know a lot of my friends share this passion.
So recently we were discussing the top tips for saving money, here they are:
1. Buy less meat
2. Use coupons for days out
3. Buy offers in supermarkets, eg buy one get one free
4. Reduce your TV subscriptions
5. Never buy water, take a bottle in your bag everywhere
6. Plan days out than involve no money eg picnic on a hill
7. Use the car less
8. Bring your old clothes, especially kids clothes to the "cash for clothes" shop
9. Make sandwiches for work
10. Swap movies with friends and neighbours
We came up with these in a matter of seconds and without too much thought, so imagine the list if we had gotten creative.
So in short there are many ways for saving a few pennies, and as a consequence showing the kids how to manage money too.
What are your top tips?
Do share.
The rain, my friend
The rain is very loud.
The pouring is incessant.
Yet it is tranquil and reassuring.
It is weather. Beautiful weather.
It is uncontrollable and in control.
It pushes us to hide, yet we chose not to.
Instead we build a tarpaulin shelter, to huddle under.
It brings us together. It forces closeness and nearness.
We don't need it, but we gladly take it.
It brings joy and laughter. It causes us to run. To be fast.
And suddenly it subsides. There is stillness where there was pounding.
There are rain drops where there were showers.
There is blue sky, where there was grey.
Goodbye my friend. Come back soon.
You have been good to us.
It won't be long, but we will equally enjoy your absence.
Location: Anglesey, North Wales, Yurt 1.
The pouring is incessant.
Yet it is tranquil and reassuring.
It is weather. Beautiful weather.
It is uncontrollable and in control.
It pushes us to hide, yet we chose not to.
Instead we build a tarpaulin shelter, to huddle under.
It brings us together. It forces closeness and nearness.
We don't need it, but we gladly take it.
It brings joy and laughter. It causes us to run. To be fast.
And suddenly it subsides. There is stillness where there was pounding.
There are rain drops where there were showers.
There is blue sky, where there was grey.
Goodbye my friend. Come back soon.
You have been good to us.
It won't be long, but we will equally enjoy your absence.
Location: Anglesey, North Wales, Yurt 1.
Denying alopecia?
I dreamed that I had hair. That in itself is not blog worthy, yet how I felt about my hair, I feel is.
In my dream, I suddenly remembered that although I was now owning long wavy brown hair, only months ago I had been bald from alopecia.
In my dream, I remember thinking, "well so what, that is no big deal, that was in the past".
So in my dream, I chose not to mention that I had had alopecia to anyone and just pretend that having a full head of hair, was normal for me, just like it was to everyone else.
What is bizarre about this dream, which it obviously was, as today's mirror reflection was clearly that of a bald woman, is that this is how I think I would actually behave.
I believe that if my hair did suddenly grow back, I do think I would move on quickly, and bury, possibly even deny, all the hardships that accompanied the long, lonely and unforgiving journey of female baldness.
However I know this can no longer happen. This blog will ensure that nothing is forgotten. That each and every good, funny and painful memory is recorded.
So even if the person in the dream becomes me, I will never be able to deny the existence of my story. This story.
The story of my hairlessness.
Simple pleasures
Having a coffee on a high street in the Peak District is a simple pleasure, yet nothing about getting here was. Yet in this quiet moment of indulgence, it's nothing other than simple.
The burst tyre, the car sickness, the winding roads, it all pails into insignificance and the coffee tastes divine.
Mid England is glorious. It's hilly, green and filled with tea shops. There is little space for the chains here it's all "Star cafe" or "Ethel's teas". I love that they still thrive.
The ice cream van selling whippy ice cream with flakes and strawberry juice is always within minutes. The taste is the same as it was thirty years ago.
This is England at its best. It steeped in tradition and glory.
Liking it? We're loving it.
Home? Well at least for me.
The familiarity of home
Whatever you do, whatever way you go, whatever drawer you open, it all feels familiar.
It doesn't matter what has happened in the last twenty years, the familiarity of what you knew and repeated in the first twenty years of your life, it's programmed. It's in there. Not budging. Not an inch.
It's the repetetive nature of what you did, never questioning it at the time, not considering there were other ways to do things, it was this way, and change was neither looked for, strived for, nor was it required.
So twenty years later, after not being in this place for such a long time, you repeat it. It's like auto pilot, you actually don't know how to do it any different. It is this way, because it was this way. It doesn't need changing. Change would be wrong.
That's what coming home feels like. Familiar and easy. Comforting and unchallenging.
Can I continue to live this way. Most probably not, but I don't have to. That is not even a question that needs posing. I don't live here. My life is no longer here. Yet none of that matters. The past is here. My story began here. How I became "me" is here.
And today that's all that matters. And right now, I do belong here. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
It doesn't matter what has happened in the last twenty years, the familiarity of what you knew and repeated in the first twenty years of your life, it's programmed. It's in there. Not budging. Not an inch.
It's the repetetive nature of what you did, never questioning it at the time, not considering there were other ways to do things, it was this way, and change was neither looked for, strived for, nor was it required.
So twenty years later, after not being in this place for such a long time, you repeat it. It's like auto pilot, you actually don't know how to do it any different. It is this way, because it was this way. It doesn't need changing. Change would be wrong.
That's what coming home feels like. Familiar and easy. Comforting and unchallenging.
Can I continue to live this way. Most probably not, but I don't have to. That is not even a question that needs posing. I don't live here. My life is no longer here. Yet none of that matters. The past is here. My story began here. How I became "me" is here.
And today that's all that matters. And right now, I do belong here. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
Bald and brave article
It was great to read. And even greater that my dad had saved it for me.
What I loved about the article is how gorgeous these bald women looked. I really felt inspired to go bald. I thought they looked stunning with their shiny heads and beautiful faces.
There stories were normal alopecia stories and I felt I understood them.
Here are the excerpts.
Gorgeous eh?
I think they even look better without hair.
What do you think?
"Lean in" or make jam?
I was inspired by a conversation last night. In fact by many of them. However one stuck out in terms of new thoughts.
We were talking about the balance of work and family and hobbies. It's a never ending debate, filled with decisions and consequences. It's such a good topic, and all of us had something to say on it.
I have a few friends who work part time, and they protect this fiercely. I have never made this choice, but until I actually manage to work a 40hr week, who am I kidding that I can work part time?
My part time working friends often talk about their choice and why it matters to them. It is a big deal and they have had to really fight in some cases to protect it. Without exception, all of them have been very conscious in their choice and are fully aware that this may sadly impact their career. However the pay offs are so much greater, than this temporary and unfortunate downside. And listening to them, I agree.
When one friend offered me a beautiful jar of home made jam, with a lovely hand written label, I got it. She explained how she had made this and multiple others in her days off.
How absolutely wonderful.
It was this jar of jam, that was so vibrant and delicious looking, that to me was the symbol of pleasure and that scare resource of simple "time". The jam was a symbol of passion not obligation. Of hobbies not work. Of home not corporate. Of pleasure not politics. Of love not like. Of jam and not emails.
Should these people "lean in" as often advised and step up the corporate ladder right now, no way. No way at all.
Lean in. My arse. Make jam I say!
We were talking about the balance of work and family and hobbies. It's a never ending debate, filled with decisions and consequences. It's such a good topic, and all of us had something to say on it.
I have a few friends who work part time, and they protect this fiercely. I have never made this choice, but until I actually manage to work a 40hr week, who am I kidding that I can work part time?
My part time working friends often talk about their choice and why it matters to them. It is a big deal and they have had to really fight in some cases to protect it. Without exception, all of them have been very conscious in their choice and are fully aware that this may sadly impact their career. However the pay offs are so much greater, than this temporary and unfortunate downside. And listening to them, I agree.
When one friend offered me a beautiful jar of home made jam, with a lovely hand written label, I got it. She explained how she had made this and multiple others in her days off.
How absolutely wonderful.
It was this jar of jam, that was so vibrant and delicious looking, that to me was the symbol of pleasure and that scare resource of simple "time". The jam was a symbol of passion not obligation. Of hobbies not work. Of home not corporate. Of pleasure not politics. Of love not like. Of jam and not emails.
Should these people "lean in" as often advised and step up the corporate ladder right now, no way. No way at all.
Lean in. My arse. Make jam I say!
Alopecia - a disease of the spirit
In a recent newspaper article, the question posed was whether cosmetic tattooes should be covered by health insurance.
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/jul/06/cosmetic-tattoos-nhs
It is an interesting debate, as in many conditions, the psychological impact is deeper and harder to heal than the physical one.
It is reported that one of the biggest fears of a cancer patient, is that they will lose their hair. I think we can all understand that on some level.
For an alopecian, the loss of eyebrows and eyelashes is very traumatic. I remember researching eyelash transplants when I first lost mine. This is no longer something I would consider, yet in the early stages, the loss of facial hair was very scary. I could not consider being without them.
I also remember the look of my face when I had no eyebrows, I could see nothing else, except sheer ugly. I felt naked and faceless. It was one of the dark times.
Being brave enough to take the plunge and get tattooed eyebrows, was life changing. It really was. I no longer needed to worry about one of them rubbing off, or getting smudged. They are now always there and in place. Yes they fade, but that is the least of my problems.
So should this be cosmetic intervention be reimbursed? Well I feel there is a case for it.
Alopecia is a disease of the spirit and not of the body, so drugs can not help, but reinstoring the pysche can. So if having a tattoo in the place of eyebrows reinforces the pysche and gives the person a bit of their life back, surely society can play a role in funding that.
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/jul/06/cosmetic-tattoos-nhs
It is an interesting debate, as in many conditions, the psychological impact is deeper and harder to heal than the physical one.
It is reported that one of the biggest fears of a cancer patient, is that they will lose their hair. I think we can all understand that on some level.
For an alopecian, the loss of eyebrows and eyelashes is very traumatic. I remember researching eyelash transplants when I first lost mine. This is no longer something I would consider, yet in the early stages, the loss of facial hair was very scary. I could not consider being without them.
I also remember the look of my face when I had no eyebrows, I could see nothing else, except sheer ugly. I felt naked and faceless. It was one of the dark times.
Being brave enough to take the plunge and get tattooed eyebrows, was life changing. It really was. I no longer needed to worry about one of them rubbing off, or getting smudged. They are now always there and in place. Yes they fade, but that is the least of my problems.
So should this be cosmetic intervention be reimbursed? Well I feel there is a case for it.
Alopecia is a disease of the spirit and not of the body, so drugs can not help, but reinstoring the pysche can. So if having a tattoo in the place of eyebrows reinforces the pysche and gives the person a bit of their life back, surely society can play a role in funding that.
Harvesting
We have been pottering in the garden a little this Spring and Summer.
We tried growing a few new things including cabbages, potatoes, chillis, along with the traditional growth of apples, tomatoes, herbs and berries.
Tonight we harvested and reaped our rewards. (My husband actually did the reaping and his version is not so lovely and idyllic - he would give you the real story of lice and infestation, however he is not the one writing - ha ha!)
Below is the feast:
Clearly the sausage was not home grown, nor the custard/vanilla pudding, but we proudly ate savoy cabbage, salad, roast potatoes and our own red currant sauce this evening. And how delicious is actually was.
It was a proud moment and we "forced" the kids to appreciate what was on our plates.
I am not sure we are convinced of a journey of self sufficiency, but we did begin the conversation of chickens and goats in the garden..............I will let you know how that develops!!
So what are you proud of this year so far?
Has your garden been in focus, or have you been making a quilt or knitting a jumper?
Do tell............
We tried growing a few new things including cabbages, potatoes, chillis, along with the traditional growth of apples, tomatoes, herbs and berries.
Tonight we harvested and reaped our rewards. (My husband actually did the reaping and his version is not so lovely and idyllic - he would give you the real story of lice and infestation, however he is not the one writing - ha ha!)
Below is the feast:
Clearly the sausage was not home grown, nor the custard/vanilla pudding, but we proudly ate savoy cabbage, salad, roast potatoes and our own red currant sauce this evening. And how delicious is actually was.
It was a proud moment and we "forced" the kids to appreciate what was on our plates.
I am not sure we are convinced of a journey of self sufficiency, but we did begin the conversation of chickens and goats in the garden..............I will let you know how that develops!!
So what are you proud of this year so far?
Has your garden been in focus, or have you been making a quilt or knitting a jumper?
Do tell............
Wiggy wigs
I was on the tram earlier this week and I noticed a lady wearing a wig.
It struck me that I noticed.
It is not that I have a special radar on spotting false hair, but this one jumped out at me.
On closer examination, I could not understand why I had spotted it. It just looked like a "wiggy wig".
There was nothing to suggest it was a wig. It was in the right place, there were no labels hanging out, the fringe was hanging in the right place, the back was flat and not sticking out. But it was obviously a wig.
I went home and looked in the mirror.
I just saw me with a head of hair.
I do not have a wiggy wig.
Or at least I don't think I do.
However if I missing something, do tell me, but kindly ok?
It struck me that I noticed.
It is not that I have a special radar on spotting false hair, but this one jumped out at me.
On closer examination, I could not understand why I had spotted it. It just looked like a "wiggy wig".
There was nothing to suggest it was a wig. It was in the right place, there were no labels hanging out, the fringe was hanging in the right place, the back was flat and not sticking out. But it was obviously a wig.
I went home and looked in the mirror.
I just saw me with a head of hair.
I do not have a wiggy wig.
Or at least I don't think I do.
However if I missing something, do tell me, but kindly ok?
Germans fold. Americans crumple.
I consider myself relatively culturally aware. Especially when it comes to the Brits and the Germans.
However on a recent outing to a paper museum (of all things), I came across something I had never noticed or realised before.
The scary thing is that once I had read this, I identified with it. It is true. Germans fold their toilet paper and the English crumple!!!
It is true!
I dare not ask you, whether you have noticed, but in the case any of you have, do let me know!!!
However on a recent outing to a paper museum (of all things), I came across something I had never noticed or realised before.
The scary thing is that once I had read this, I identified with it. It is true. Germans fold their toilet paper and the English crumple!!!
It is true!
I dare not ask you, whether you have noticed, but in the case any of you have, do let me know!!!
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