For a short while we were going to Mallorca.  When we decided not to book, although a little, pretty, very disappointed, I reckon we handled it in a very mature way.  Not foot stomping or huffing and puffing.  Our hearts felt right about it so it was all good.  But as the Facebook statuses and pictures begin to appear on my feed, my inner toddler is growling and I feel a tantrum brewing.

But I’m keeping myself in check, and determined to turn this yearning for a holiday around – I need to find the very good (and cheap) in a ‘staycation’.  It’s all about perspective.  Right, come on Heather!  I need to come up with a bucket list – but because its what I want us to do this summer as opposed to before I die (and kick the bucket!), I’ll call it our….”staycation list”.  How original (I did sit with a cup of coffee in hand staring out of the window for five minutes, but came up with nothing).

All I need to do is be organised, And creative.  With the help of pinterest I can do this.  Any genius ideas, please share them! Send me an email if you don’t want to comment (I’ve had a ridiculous amount of people get in contact saying follow the blog but they’re scared to leave a comment, ha!).

Watch this space.


Faking it.

Its that time of year. Time to get the legs out. In fact that time of year sneaked up on me (am I the only one?) and I was very unprepared. With having a bad back, let just say I have struggled to maintain smooth legs.  The husband took every opportunity to make fun of this. But my vanity overrode my (very limited) wisdom and stretched this way and that to sort that situation out. With Rob’s razor. That’ll teach him.

I think I’m possibly getting more vain as I grow older and I didn’t think that would be so. I blame a certain woman (who will remain nameless) cough-BeckyFrance-cough cough who lured me into having a spray tan with her a couple of years ago and in all honesty it made me feel…totally…wonderful. I would just sit and admire my arms. But visiting the salon every week is out of the question. With my two little lovebugs there’s not much chance of lying in the sun to soak up a suntan either so there’s only one other option: Fake tan.

With fake tan, my whole brain screams out to me to buy the ‘good’ stuff. We all know the brands. But there was an impulse buy on Thursday. The purchase process went something like this:

Sunny morning…Weather man says we’re in for a very warm week…by lunchtime I’m sweltering in my jeans…pop in to Home Bargains to get some rabbit food and I walk past some fake tan…brain working very fast…contemplate trying to pull on and squeeze into my shorts that are lurking somewhere at the bottom of my drawer…cheap fake tan is  dropped into my trolley.

Not being someone who has ever really looked after herself I’m vaguely familiar with the idea of exfoliation. Generally  this isn’t a step in one’s beauty regime that mums of young children get to experience. Sometimes it’s a result to wash your hair, and you feel pampered if you can wash your hair and shave your legs. But when I was rubbing this very dark looking mousse into my legs I wondered if it really made a difference.  I thought I’d live a bit try it out.  And not being one to go down the simple route I was intrigued by home-made body scrubs on pinterest.  They look pretty simple and quick to whip up and seem to either have a sugar base or a salt base.  There were a couple though that managed to out their own spin on it.

Carlee over at Deliciously Organised explains how to make a summery Orange and Coconut Scrub

Image credit to Deliciously organised.


I love how Rachel from Maybe Matilda has made her home made body scrubsinto gifts for mums-to-be.  I’m all for pampering a pregnant mamma!

Image credit  to Maybe Matilda.

There were loads more but I just couldn’t celebrate creative divas without acknowledging the ultimate domestic guru Martha Stewart.  I only discovered her a couple months ago.  In a non-idol-creating way – where has she been all my life?!?!  Amongst a gazillion other home-made ideas she has a video of making an exfoliating scrub.

Right, I’m gonna go make me some body scrub!


Last week my mum came over and together we (and my two girls) drove back to my parents cottage in Yorkshire for some serious R&R.  On Friday I slept until ridiculously late and also managed to fit in an afternoon sleep.  The girls were just happy to be there so I was able to do a lot of this…

and making a lovely bum imprint on this…..

The girls and I shared a bed again and it literally was the little one saying roll over.

The Husband drove over on saturday after enjoying a nice lie in himself (bliss!!). He remembered a chat we recently had about there being very few photos of me and he thought he’d remedy that problem.


Nice.  Me at my best.

The short break must have worked because, although my back still hurts I felt my energy had been renewed.  I have figured that I could very easily stare at my the circumstances, [the pain and frustration around my back] but I’m choosing to remember Jesus in everything – in my family, in my awesome job, in my rest and in my creative frustrations.

[My friends [lightly] tease me because I knit and because I keep trying to convince everyone that since we were made by the ultimate creator, and that it says we are made in the image of him, then it seems only logical and natural for us to be creative in some way.  There are so many outlets for creative energy I just can’t imagine anyone not being able to find one that fits them.  Anyway, I digress.  So I’m often creatively frustrated be because the mass of ideas in my head far outweigh the time and capacity I have to nurture them.  So I have bought a notebook and at very least I can scribble down and try to unravel my thoughts, my ideas and my dreams.  I reckon it’s very healthy to have dreams – [though it is so important to keep them in perspective] – both tiny dreams, easy to catch, and seriously mahoosive dreams that motivate you to work hard and laugh hard.]

Matt Redman wrote these words that, after reading them today, realigned my mind and heart.

God in my hoping

There in my dreaming

God in my wathcing

God in my waiting

God in my laughing

There in my weeping

 God in my hurting

God in my healing