Don't go masticating me Marigolds!

Twice a month my day starts with the realisation that another child free day stretches ahead of me

I am in the fortunate position of being separated which means that once a fortnight I have almost two whole days to be just me (I'll leave you to decide which bit of that is the fortunate bit!).

I'm not Mum, I'm not cook, I'm not teacher, I'm not referee, agony aunt or best friend.

I'm just me.

For several months I had no idea who 'just me' was. I wandered around in a daze counting the hours until my house was once again filled with noise and arguments the omnipresent TV in the background.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do!

I carried on setting the breakfast table for 3 and shouting up the stairs that they were missing the best part of the day by still being in bed only to be met with silence and a feeling of emptiness.

Then slowly, the old me started to make it's presence felt, like little bubbles of indigestion or the first flutterings of a tiny foetus deep inside, barely noticeable and so easily ignored or missed, but never the less STILL alive!

I thought I'd swallowed that person whole and digested her many years ago.

So, on these child free days, I follow my daily ritual of taking a cup of tea out into the garden if it's fine. I sit on the arbour in the early morning haze with the promise of yet another beautiful day ahead of me.

I drink in the early morning sounds of my immediate world waking up and, nearby, something MUNCHING my plants! I don't know what or who this muncher is, I can hear them but despite crawling around on all fours trying to follow the sounds I cant FIND them.

my beach hut shed

I'm pretty sure it's not slugs, they don't have teeth do they?

Well, I'm a live and let live kind of person and the marigolds, although apparent irresistible to something were given to me by a friend who had some spare and they aren't really my plant of choice.

IF however, it starts on my lavender we may well have all out chemical warfare!

morning dew

My garden is tiny but I love it.   I fill it full of pots in the summer, a riot of different colours and smells.

 I am not and never will be what you might call a wallpaper and co-coordinating border kind of person. I'm more a shabby chic with the emphasis on shabby. I yearn for stripped oak floors, unbleached muslin curtains, sofas covered in striped ticking.

I yearn for you



Kirsty clone? I think NOT!

For a while for Christ sakes I longed to be Kirsty Allsopp!!! (sans the big arse, dreadful fashion sense and annoying manner of course).

And so I spend these child free days 'creating' things.

other peoples rubbish is my treasure



obviously I just thought it was an interesting piece of driftwood!

I paint my garden chairs a variety of colours to suit my mood. I scour the local charity shops for hidden treasures. I go to the beach and pick up driftwood and shells.



You should be!

I decorate my children's bedrooms (without their knowledge or consent). I LOVE the sky blue and fluffy clouds in Master Macs room. A love he sadly doesn't share at the age of 13 and has mostly covered it with posters of wrestlers and parental advisory notices.



Glitter Arty

I also loved the hot pink of my daughters bedroom, (no, it's not womb like and claustrophobic, it's cosy!) It's soon to be turquoise (this time at her suggestion).

I may never have the house of my dreams as my dreams are always changing but equally, I'll never drown in beige.