Category: Notes and Confessions

  The 30 day aspect of this whole happiness thing is nearly done. I won’t subject you to the whole 100 days that the original challenge called for. Theirs was just photos, anyway. I was the masochist who decided to turn it into a blog post fest. I started this just as my parents were…

  I hate dealing with dental crap. All those nerves and bones and grinding noises. I try to avoid dentists if possible (outside of begrudgingly accepted checkups and whatnot) and luckily, aside from my anarchic wisdoms, have had nice, sturdy teeth to allow me to be so evasive. However,  some time around Monday or Tuesday,…

  As you may have noted over the past few months of posts, I’ve been wrestling with my newfound status of stay at home mother. I thought I’d be better at it. Not the Thwack wrangling itself, no- he’s good fun to be with most of the time-but rather the lack of intellectual stimulation. The…

  It has been a long winter. I mean, it’s mid-May and my mid-weight coat is still hanging on the hook on the back of the kitchen door. I think my inner rhythms had been tricked by a decade in warmer climes, where T-shirts are acceptable clothing starting sometimes as early as March. In Leicester,…

  This is getting tricky, y’all. Not the happiness part of the project, as that’s going better than expected, but rather the photography part. I didn’t take any photos yesterday. None. Which makes Day 24 rather tricky to pull off. And really, Day 24 had a lot of surprisingly cathartic moments, which have left me…

    One of the things people keep telling me is to treasure this period of time when Sir Thwacksalot is all tiny and portable and cuddly in a way not unlike a sack full of eels on speed. Because fresh babies are apparently the best babies. They don’t talk back, they don’t climb your…

  I kind of wish I had started a pattern of having themes inserted into the titles of these posts, as a number of rather thinky thoughts about all things tangentially related to happiness have been dredged up in posts over the past few weeks but no one seeing the subject line would be the…

  Last night was the Eurovision Song Contest. Or at least that’s what it was called when I first heard of it, 20-odd years ago. It might just be Eurovision now. It’s still weird enough to make me feel quite foreign when watching it. Those kooky Europeans. A lot of the acts were purely formulaic…

  I feel weird having a few Thwack related happy days, as if nothing else is worth noting or celebrating. It’s all part of the grand plan, I must note: His casual acceptance of weird food (or rather, live rotaviruses) means we may not have to suffer the indignity of a kid who only eats…

In case you were worried, no, this isn’t turning into a mommy/mummy blog. It’s still what is was before, a confused collection of writings by someone outside of her indigenous realm, but with a lot less Chinese food and international travel, and with the added touch of young Sir Thwacklemore as a shiny new housemate. We’re…

  I’ve got an annoying tummy bug today, as does Sir Thwacksalot— up all freaking night— so I’ll keep this one brief. I need a cup of peppermint tea and a lazy duvet day. It’s a real shame I’ve decided to stop eating cheese and cake this month. It’s that kind of day. Day 18’s…

  Yesterday was kind of crap, I have to admit. Trying to find a shiny, happy spot was tricky. I didn’t want to fake it by, say, taking a picture of the really lovely, colourful, fragrant cauliflower rice I made for dinner and saying, wow, this was awesome. It was nice. It was fine. Most…