I’ve always been a home bird.  I remember as a kid, rather than get excited about an impending sleep over I’d Mull over it anxiously.  It wasn’t anything specific, I just felt ‘lost’ even at the thought about being away from home.  And now, as an adult, with a family of my own, my heart still gravitates towards home.

Apart from a two day turnaround to wash the clothes, we’ve been ‘away’ for just shy of two weeks.  Yes that’s how sappy I am.  After 10 days of honeymooning, The Husband and I were longing to just be home and start our ‘home’ together.  Having VERY basic (icky) accomodation didn’t help either!

Having said that, I’ll be home for a couple weeks and start asking The Husband when we’ll next have a weekend away.  Because we live/work/play hard and fast, I’m all for short and regular(ish) breaks. 

When Chloe was very little, and new-parent-exhaustion was a part of everyday life,  The Husband and I intentionally arranged to go away for one night, twice a year.  Just us.  Springtime and Autumn.  It was awesome.  One time we went to London for 36 hours.  It was mental – involving a 6am train journey, lunch on Trafalgar square, WAY too much walking around in boots (I know, boots! why, I ask myself, why??) , a west end show, an overnight stay and then a whole day of exploring London before catching a 6pm train home.  London gave us so many wonderful memories, but it also gave me bronchitis that turned into pleurisy, ha! 

chlo 012

Sorry, I got carried away – so yes, we used to try and get away fairly regularly  Most of the time it was just an overnight stay in a nice hotel.  Nothing extravagant, but somewhere with a good pool, good food and a good room!  It was a place to be Rob and Heather again.

We’ve not done that in over a year (or more?) and it’s something we want to start doing again.  We’ll have to be intentional about it because days turn into weeks that flow into months and it’s been another year.

This post was supposed to be about the things I’m looking forward to when I get home, but I reckon I’ve thought, typed and babbled on enough for now.



The upheaval for the week ahead has begun.  The fire surround is off and room empty bar the two sofas and the TV.  It is the England match this evening after all.


I know. Lovely right?


Tomorrow the walls will be plastered and the room will pretty much stay as it is until the decorating fairies come to paint the walls.

I want my walls to turn out nice.  I want my home to be nice.  But being in God’s house this morning reminded me that, of course, I can enjoy expressing myself in decorating my house but my heart beats for something so much bigger, higher and greater than that.

mosey down memory lane: 2004

I’ve been transferring a load of our photos from a near-t0-dying old laptop and it’s been so surreal reliving our 10 years together.  For this reason, and because I’m sick of moaning on about my back, that I’m sharing a few of those memories.

Starting with 2004.  The year we got married and the year we bought our first digital camera.

We didn’t get professional wedding pictures.  This was because we selected the cheapest photographer going who mysteriously disappeared after our wedding.  But hey.  We had a load of people send us there snaps so we love our ramshackle collection.

Later added because it was way to funny not to!:

Most of our pictures we’re goofing around because we didn’t quite know ‘how to behave at a wedding’.  When we cut the cake, we just looked around wondering what we were supposed to do.  Were we supposed to actually cut the cake or was it just for photographs?  And if we were supposed to cut the cake were we supposed slice it all up and hand it out?

We also laughed during our first dance.  We’re both kinda more silly disco dancers than smoochy smoochy slow dancers.

So we settled up all married and everything in Fulwood, Preston, and then we bought our first house in Blackpool.

I LOVED that house.  A little 2 up 2 down that had a strange part of the kitchen that brought weird smells from next door, and used to drive The Husband crazy.  The sound carried too so when our next door neighbour would shout up to her teenage daughter we would join in with her yells to “Samaaaaaaanthaaaa!” But we loved it, it was our little piece of space in the world.  I worked at the Hilton Blackpool back then as a reservations assistant to help pay for our new little home.  Fetching uniform.

So that was a whistlestop tour of 2004!

Up next – 2005 when were young and free and it was just the two of us.  Well kind of.  Chloe started to make an appearance half way through…