Bath Time

We are coming to the end of an era.

For as long as there has been DorkySon, there has been family bath time. It is the most set-in-stone part of our routine.

Regardless of what has happened during the day, we always take a bath before bed. No matter what country we’re in, whose house we’re staying at or how long a flight we’ve just stepped off; it is the family ritual that grounds us. Whatever time zone our brains believe themselves to be in, the sound of a bath filling up means that bedtime is not far away.

DorkyDad does most of the baths with DorkySon. By ‘most’ I mean all. And by ‘does’ I mean he’s right in there, in the water. For a few weeks, we tried to do baby baths the traditional way. We held our wailing newborn boy in a wee plastic tub, three inches of tepid water in the bottom. We sponged and we soaped, we sang soothing lullabies, but DorkySon was having none of it. He knew he was missing out on something better.

Continue reading

The Blogger Who…

The Blogger Who logo

There is no Tuesday Treats this month, because I’ve decided to share some blog love in a slightly different way. Instead of linking to individual posts, I’m just going to link to the homepage of blogs that I read for a variety of reasons, and let you have fun exploring them yourselves.

So. Without further ado.

The blogger who…

 … I wish I knew better is Aly Hodge from Bug, Bird and Bee. Aly is one of the most generous bloggers out there, who is always sharing links and support on social media. She’s a single mother of three, and a self-described ‘Pagan, greenie, vegetarian, eco-warrior in training’. I love reading her thrifty tips, her slow cooker recipes and all about her foraging adventures in the UK. At the last BritMums conference in London before I left for Tassie, Aly brought me a bottle of her homemade Limoncello, but never got the chance to hand it over. I have a dream that that one day we’ll be able to sit down and share it, because I like her a lot, but I’d like to know her better.

Continue reading

One Year On

Hobart Tasmania

This time a year ago exactly, we were spending our last full day in Harpenden.

DorkySon had toddled off to his wonderful nursery for the last time, and he would come home a few hours later laden down with gifts and cards and photos of himself hugging the staff. I went for one last trawl of the local charity shops to see if I could find any bits and pieces for the flight – I got lucky, and picked up a collection of Shirley Hughes stories and a huge bag of toy cars for a couple of quid.

Our flat was a mess. The removal men had arrived that morning, and it was hard to move for all the sheets of packing paper, cardboard boxes, and enormous rolls of bubble wrap. That night, cupboards bare and crockery packed, we went for dinner at a local Italian restaurant. Somewhere between the tagliatelle and the tiramisu, immigration officers raided the place and started interrogating the kitchen staff. We headed home for an early night.

Continue reading

The One with the Referendum

Scottish Independence Referendum Green Yes

Och. I was doing so well too.

You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to be good about this. How often I’ve sat on my hands, and not commented, or liked or retweeted or shared or argued or said a single frickin’ word, because it’s not my business anymore. I HAVE BEEN SO GOOD! Ask DorkyDad how restrained I’ve been. Ask him how often in the last few months he’s heard me come out with some hideously bland and diplomatic answer when people have asked me about the Scottish Independence Referendum. He’ll pull this tortured face at you, like he’s stuck at a dinner party between Britney Spears and Kim Jong-un, and he just needs the whole thing to be over already.

But I’m so inspired and enthused by reading other people’s stories – so excited by the number of folk, women especially, who are finding their political voice for the first time – that I feel compelled to add mine to the chorus.

Continue reading

An Isle of Harris Holiday: In Photos

Howdy-doodle.

We are back from a lovely ten days in Scotland. Two 35 hour journeys in less than a fortnight has not left me at my most eloquent, so I will save the write-up for another day, but I wanted to share a few photos of our time away.

We were staying in a stunning self-catering house called Croft Cottage, which has views of East Loch Tarbert and across to Skye. On a still night, this is what it looked like…

view from Tarbert Isle of Harris

Continue reading