When the sun shines in England it is glorious.


I find deep satisfaction in preparing lists for our family summer holidays…
Well lists for anything really , I love a list. They are so orderly and wonderfully stress defying!
Everything goes into these lists, apart from specifics, for example , the families entire wardrobe for the holidays comes under ” clothes”    –    apart from specific items ,      such as ‘swimming costume’ or ‘sexy nightie’.  😉

Desist , I am boring myself.
But the anticipation of a holiday is part of it all really isn’t it? We ‘ve decided to purchase our own spanking sat nav, instead of borrowing my mum’s crap one, which is exciting in itself. I suppose ,     maybe my simple life could be construed as tedious. But heck,        I find it wonderfully mundane and wholesome.
I spent my late teens and early 20’s in utter chaos,   I was a promotions representative abroad,    we worked on 100% commission,  we lived hour to hour. It was glorious ,  but now , I suppose ,   I relish routine & simple pleasures.

Last 2 days at work before a delicious 2 week break on the south coast of England..   When the sun shines in England it is glorious.  There is a rumour of a heat wave..   Last year ,  we spent 10 rainy miserable days,  camping in Somerset.  We deserve a HEATWAVE..   Rock pooling , British seaside towns,  country walks , tacky classic nighttime entertainment.    Can’t get that on the costa…


Camping, Pot & Pulp Fiction


I can’t wait to go camping with my brother tonight, when I spend time with my brother , I realise how bloody inpatient and highly strung my own husband is and I am able to breathe and notice that I am my own person and that life is a forceful river and sometimes you have to make yourself just stand up in it and watch the current , without letting it  you pull you along..
Camping is a paradox, on the one hand it is deeply relaxing;   sitting within the woods or a farm , with nothing to do but read , sit  & chat or play a game,  it takes away the stress and eases the pace of life.       Eating simply , not washing , not looking in the mirror , sleeping in your clothes, drinking copious amount of red wine around the fire at night, even coming out of your tent in the dark and pissing on the grass!      There is such freedom and peace to it. Yet it requires dedication , an absence  of obessional tendencies about life in general  &   you have to bring EVERYTHING with you and lets face it , although there is nothing quite like falling asleep in a tent , listening to the patter of a night shower on the canvas, it is downright uncomfortable most of the time.

Yet , every year , I go .. Now it’s down to just my brother and I and our youngest children, our other 2 brothers have given up , my husband is just miserable about the whole idea (good) and our oldest boys now say it’s boring.. I suppose that ‘s kids these days, I mourn their lack of outdoor adventure, its got to have a screen or a raquet to equal enjoyment. But I hope that all their previous camping trips are solidly imprinted within  their memories..  And actually ,  I am looking forward to time with just my brother and I.    When we were younger , we did a lot together,  before we aquired spouses that is.    It mainly constituted of smoking copious amounts of pot and watching Pulp Fiction ,  but still   ,   we had fun.  I miss that.

Food will not dictate my life.

imagesBeing a recovering Overeater ain’t easy..

If you drink or take drugs , at least you can consciously stay away from those things , but when you have an addiction to sugar and have been a compulsive overeater for 30 odd years , things just ain’t that simple.

Last night I had a chinese , I ate too much , it’s not a crime to have a chinese, but for me it could be a slipperly slope. I realise now , that all the those times , those pivotal moments when you ‘ give up the diet ‘ are simply  moments of   relapse.     It’s just now , it has a name. It’s not just me getting fed up and thinking ‘ sod it ‘ , it is a relaspe from an addiction and an illness.

This morning , whilst cycling to work, I gave myself a lecture. I often imagine , what on earth people must think when I am yacking away to myself on my bike , but actually, I simply do not give a damn.   Talking to oneself while cycling or walking , or talking to God,      which is kind of the same thing   –    you’re either talking to yourself while God listens or you are talking directly to God.       I find both equally helpful when I am in the midst of negative thoughts and old pathways.

So ,  it essentially went something like this.. ” here you are, beating yourself up about some crisps at the weekend, having a chinese, and generally eating too much dark chocolate , is that all you can think about ? What about how you have changed your life over the last few months, become clean , lost 2.5 stones, reinvented your thinking, resolved to love the child that took on board too much negativity ? You have forgotton what you have learnt. You have empowered yourself so much that you have been struck powerless by what has always frightened  you , the fear that you can’t do it, the fear that you will always be fat , the fear that , you can’t change! “

So , on my journey through London’s hectic streets this morning , I gave myself some self love, I asked God to replenish in me my self control and desire to be greater for him.   I  tasked myself for the upcoming weekend and holiday period ;

3 questions to ask myself before food :

1) Have you prayed? (for mindful eating, slow eating & non compulsive eating)
2) Are you hungry ?
3) Is it nourishing for the body and mind?

And today , I do feel better. Slow recovery is all encompassing, time to learn , time to discover and grow and I need to remember that and not rush.

Food will not dictate my life.

But the world doesn’t know me – that’s the difference.


This week is a ” craving ”    week and a ‘ negative thought ‘ week (so far..)

I don’t know why ? Putting 2 lbs on , after not really over eating , apart from alot of crisps at the BBQ is what is sending me over the edge I suppose. I know that this is a way of eating for me now and that God is teaching me patience in the way I am losing sporadically and sometimes gaining , I suppose when I get to my goal , I will have to consistently be re-addressing myself and that this is the practice leading up to it so that I am able to maintain.         I almost feel that I can write August off;   going camping this weekend, then off on holiday , but in the meanwhile , I have to practise being ‘ normal ‘ , eating cleanly and with ideas of nourishment only. But I am being a bit hounded by cravings   and it’s almost as though,    now I have taken a back seat on the whole emotional side of things and have relaxed into it , I am being tested….

I set up this Word Press thing, as I was uncomfortable with my journal – it is so immensely private , and it sits in my desk at work , safely. When it was at home , I was constantly anxious about where I had left it ,   was my husband going to read about the soul searching things I had written , would my mother read about how irritating I found her…          So I have left it at work , where it feels secure – but what do I do with it?       What happens if I die?      I am not comfortable with anyone reading it.    Yet , I don’t want my thoughts and my amazing self discoveries to be lost in the sands of time.    I would , I suppose , like my daughter to have it , when she is grown up (she is 9) but , there is still the issue of what to do with this hot potato in the mean time ..

So , I decided to take my musings online, it’s a safe space, its annonymous, and for the first couple of posts, I think I was writing for the reader, but nobody reads them… I don’t know if this takes time , for people to start reading a blog and I think that actually , it isn’t really for others,     it’s for me …. So why didn’t I just have an online private journal?      I think mainly , because I hope to make a difference to others,  in some way..    If that happens , great , if it doesn’t , then I have my little blog, that I can refer to whenever I want , just like my journal , but it’s safe! And that in itself is  odd! I don’t want to have my journal uncovered but I am happy to blog to the world. But the world doesn’t know me – that’s the difference.

However,   surely ,   my journal was unrestrained ..  my deepest,  darkest secrets were not exposed (of which there aren’t many..)  but everything else was &   I want to be able to maintain that integrity and openess to myself ,  I want to blog with boldness!  To do that ,  I think I have to talk to myself..  Not to you..