Brit Wish List

I read an article the other day that listed the top 50 British things to do before you die. I was intrigued by this and wanted to find out which I had already done, which I wanted to do and which I had absolutely no interest in doing whatsoever.

So here we go:

1. Eat fish and chips on a seaside pier - Done this!

2. See whales off Wales - Not really sure why I'd want to but I'm not against it!

3. Go to a night at the proms at the Albert Hall - this would be fun. Wave those flags!

4. Visit the Giant's Causeway, N.Ireland - I'd like to do this.

5. Have a picnic at an open air concert - This would be fun (only in the summer, though!)

6. Go up in the London Eye - yeah, would like to do this.

7. Travel Scotland's West Coast by rail - Em, I suppose this would be fun.

8. Watch a Shakespeare play in Stratford - Again, not against it but have no huge desire to do so.

9. Dine in a Gordon Ramsay restaurant - Good God - no thanks.

10. Go to a British Grand Prix - Again, not my thing.

11. See inside the Houses of Parliament - Yes, I'd like to do this, please.

12. Get the Ffestiniog railway up Snowdon - Wouldn't say no but not in any great rush to do this.

13. Go to Glastonbury Festival - I've been to T in the Park and that was enough for me.

14. Hold the FA Cup in your hands - Why?

15. Take in the view from the top of the Shard - Is this taller than the Eye?

16. Stonehenge on longest day of the year - This would be fun minus all the other people that are bound to be there!

Expectation

Reality

17. See the trooping of the colour - I've seen it in Canada and on the telly. I'm satisfied with that.

18. Go to a cricket test match - You're having a laugh, right?

19. 'The Prisoner' village Portmeirion, Wales - I suppose this might be fun.

20. Have tea at Betty's tearooms, Harrogate - I've been there but the queue was massive. Seeing it was good enough for me.

21. See a traditional Christmas panto - This shouldn't be on a bucket list. Who hasn't done this?

22. Watch a British player at Wimbledon - Just going to Wimbledon would be enough for me.

23. Do a 'Wainwright' walk in the Lake District - Hmmm - aren't they really challenging?

24. Drive round Brand's Hatch - No thanks.

25. Visit a whisky distillery - Done, dusted and tasted the booze.

26. Go to a six nations rugby match - Done this too many times to count. Tick.

27. A Jack the Ripper walk in the East End - I think I would be too scared to do this, I'm afraid.

28. Have a pint in the Rover's Return - Nah.

29. See Lake Windermere by boat - Seen it but not by boat. If the opportunity arose then I probably wouldn't say no.

30. Go on a historic London pub tour - Might be fun but since I'm not a big drinker it might be lost on me.

31. Experience the Notting Hill Carnival - Each to their own. This isn't really my kind of thing. People - urgh!

32. Try a deep fried Mars Bar - You have no idea how much I want to try this.

33. Hogmanay Fireball ceremony in Stonehaven - This would be amazing!

34. Sail round the Isle of Wight - I wouldn't say no but wouldn't be sad if I couldn't do it.

35. Attend Grand National horse race - I'm good, thanks.

36. Go to a World Darts Final - Ha ha ha - no!

37. A selfie at John O'Groats and Land's End - This is interesting but seems like a lot of work!

38. Take a ferry across the Mersey - Oh, I wouldn't stop singing and someone would probably chuck me in the river!

39. Climb Ben Nevis - No thank you.

40. See Tower Bridge raised - This would be fun and something to talk about.

41. Visit Borough food market, London - Sure, I'm not averse to this if the opportunity arose.

42. Eat Haggis on Burns Night, in Scotland - Done this too many times to count.

43. See Morris Dancers at a country pub - I don't think I would be able to stop laughing but it would be nice from a cultural stand point.

44. See Oxford Street Christmas Lights - Christmas lights anywhere are always welcomed.

45. Be at a recording of X-Factor or BGT - No, just no.

46. See Blackpool Illuminations - Would be good to say I'd been there at least once.

47. Watch a boxset of Only Fools and Horses - I've seen the Batman and Robin episode and that suits me just fine.

48. Witness Oxford/Cambridge boat race - Having seen the last one on the telly, this might actually be a fun day out.

49. Attend first day of Harrods sale - Oh the horror.

50. Watch London Marathon live - Run the marathon. Yeah!

#Winning

The other day I saw this pic on Pinterest and something about it just made me happy. And much like I did previously, I started hankering for another piercing or two in my ear.

I then had a nice little dream which, because it was a dream about ear piercing, I used to confirm the fact that it must be fate. (I'm not flighty - I just like to use things to my advantage when I can - however daft!).

Strangely, in a later conversation with my mum, she mentioned that she too had had a dream about getting her ears pierced again. She's got two piercings in each ear. I can't remember when she said she got her first piercings but she got the second set when she was 31. She always promised herself that she would get a third set but had never got round to it and for some reason she was once again thinking about it.

This was obviously fate again. Subtlety was never fate's strong point!

So I forced invited her to come with me on a joint piercing adventure. Woo hoo!

We got to the piercing place and I went up to the desk, all ready to go and asked for my left ear pierced a further two times.

Shop lady: "Not going to happen."
Me: Stamping feet. "But why not?"
Shop lady: "Because we only allow people to have three holes in each ear. Them's the rules."
Me: Pouting. "But that's not fair."
Mum: Elbowing me in the ribs. "Forget her - pierce me, pierce me!"
Shop lady: "Of course. Please come this way."
Me: "No! No! That's not fair! If she goes first then she'll have more piercings than me."
Mum: "Ha ha - sucker! Let's get this thing started!"

I managed to stop my temper tantrum long enough to catch the action.

So with 3 holes in each ear, mum now had 6 piercings to my measly 5.

Something had to be done!

I decided to ring the place where I got my tattoo and see if they did piercings higher than 3.

Yes they did so 2 days later there I was, ready again.

I went through to the piercing room and seconds before the lady started the piercing she decided to tell me that they didn't pierce with a gun - they just used a needle designed for use in horse tranquilising. That won't be a problem, right?

Now, this lady was tattooed, pierced and what-not to some degree. I am not and so I classed myself as somewhat less brave than she. For some reason, known only to myself, I decided that I would try and hide this fact from said lady. I don't think she was fooled for one second when I told her that was fine - please go ahead - I'm not scared!!!

My internal screams were pretty darn loud. At least I think they were internal - I wouldn't have been able to hear them over the pounding of blood in my ears regardless. It felt like, well, someone was stabbing me with a giant needle in order to poke holes in my lugs.

Trauma behind me, I am now back to winning with 7 holes to mum's 6! Yay!

The rivalry will continue, I'm sure. I do hope to get another 2 ear piercings when I have completely forgotten the pain of these last 2 and I'm planning another couple of wee tattoos, too. We'll see what mum decides to do to win the next round! ;)

 

Happy Hilaria!

I'm not a fan of April Fools' Day.

I like a laugh as much as the next person but I don't like the minefield of a day (or half a day as I always understood that you weren't allowed to trick people after 12noon) designed to make you look like a dafty. I don't need any external help to make me look daft, thank you very much! And in any case, any other day where you lied on mass to people wouldn't go down too well, methinks! (I might try it - just to see!)

So, in an attempt to discredit this ridiculous practice, I had to have a wee look and see why we try and outsmart each other on this particular day in the year. Are there any redeeming qualities?

Apparently, April Fools' Day is a derivation of a Roman festival based on a Greek festival that celebrates Cybele, the mother of the Gods.

This girl knew how to party, it would seem.

Having looked at the origins of the festival as a whole, despite disliking being made a fool of, I'm quite glad that the only day of this festival we chose to replicate was All Fools' Day.

The days of the festival seem to have been as follows:

The Day of the Reed - The start of a 9 day period of abstinence from bread, pomegranates, quinces, pork, fish and any drink that was not milk. I'm not mad at this - I could cope without quinces for 9 days!

The Day of the Tree - A tree is chopped down and paraded through the town. Not particularly exciting but I'm still on board with this festival, so far.

The Day of Mourning - Time to be sad, unfortunately. Hmmm.


The Day of Blood - Mass scourging, whipping and castration. The chopped down tree is buried. Good times in ancient Rome and we've possibly also found the origin of the phrase "well that escalated quickly!"

The Day of Joy - Happy April Fools' Day y'all. You've just been scourged, whipped and castrated and you can't get a pomegranate for love nor money - why aren't you happy?

The Day of Rest - It's been a busy week what with mourning, castration and partying until dawn on nothing but milk - you deserve a break!

The Day of Washing - The above can be a messy business so get to washing.

The Ceremonial Day - Thank the Gods it's all over for another year!


So, I now decide that April Fools' Day isn't such a bad thing after all. I'll take looking like a muppet over drinking milk and scourging any day!

I still think that I'll start calling it Hilaria though - it has a much more sophisticated ring to it and maybe it won't make me so grumpy next year!

Granny's Fudge and a New Plan...

About a month ago my Granny went into a care home.

Such a simple sentence to write and yet it doesn't begin to describe the stress and detail that went into the 6 or so weeks going from independent living (to some degree), into hospital and then into a care home.

It was a difficult time (although definitely more so for my mum) but if I'm honest, it's been a blessing in disguise. Granny is now in a safe and lovely environment with people who are trained and ready to help her with everything she needs. Her room looks like a room from a Travel Lodge (which by my tastes, ain't that shabby) and she not only gets three home cooked meals a day (two courses) but biscuits and homebaking too. She has met interesting people who are in the same situation as she is and gets to enjoy their company rather than sitting by herself in her house. Plus there's entertainment laid on for them every day; Last week she was sporting newly polished nails and a pearl* bracelet that she won during a scrabble tournament. For my granny, the change has definitely been a positive one.

* Most likely an imitation!

I have decided that Care Homes have an unnecessarily bad reputation. Hell, I want to go into one now - it's like university dorms for old people! I don't even want to imagine what those crazy cats get up to when visiting hours are over!

Anyway, Granny has been at the forefront of my mind for a wee while now and so it's no surprise that some of the things that she was 'famous' for are coming back to me. One thing I remember is that whenever we visited there were always three things on offer:

1) Fudge Slice
2) Iced Sponge
3) Chocolate Cake

Surprisingly, I wasn't a fan of the chocolate cake which meant the Fudge Slice and Iced Sponge were all mine! With a hankering for Fudge Slice I decided to air out my Granny's recipe and give it a whirl.

It might not be the prettiest thing in the world but boy, if you're looking for a shot of sugar with chocolate on the top then this is a quick and easy way to get it.

The bottom of this slice is a sweet and creamy fudge with a bit of crunch from the crushed biscuits. A thin layer of chocolate on the top pulls it all together alongside some chocolate crunch sprinkles for prettiness and texture! Being quite sweet, you can't eat too many of these in one go - perfect if you're a food binger like me!


What you need:
4 oz margarine
1 small tin of condensed milk
4 oz sugar (castor or granulated)
2 tbsps syrup (to be honest, I forgot this and it still tasted delish!)
9 oz digestive biscuits
8oz chocolate of your choice
chocolate sprinkles of your choice


What you do:
Put the margarine, condensed milk, sugar and syrup in a pan and melt oh so slowly.

When all the ingredients are blended, put the heat on low-medium and heat for approximately 8 minutes. Keep stirring so that the mixture never sticks to the bottom of the pan (it goes brown when it does this and ruins the look as well as the taste of the fudge). The sugar will dissolve and the mixture will change to a warm golden hue.

Take your biscuits and pop them into a bag. Smash 'em up real good! The smoother you make your crumbs, the smoother your fudge will be. With the best will in the world, I always end up with little lumps but it adds a little extra, I say!

Remove the mixture from the heat and add the biscuits. Stir and blend well.

Pop the mixture into a swiss roll tin (a tin approximately 34cm x 20cm x 3cm) and press down. Allow to cool before adding your chocolate (aka the best bit!).

Melt your chocolate either over a pan of boiling water or in the microwave. I normally melt in a microwave with no issues but I've had a couple of horrors the last few times and I've managed to burn the chocolate. Not only do you then suffer the upset of wasting chocolate, the smell of burnt chocolate is just disgusting. Then there's the other problem of convincing yourself that the burnt chocolate will taste fine, eating it and then wanting to hurl. Burnt chocolate never tastes okay, people. Bleurgh!

Once the chocolate is nice and smooth, pour it over the fudge mixture. Add your chocolate sprinkles if you're using them and leave to cool at room temperature (you don't want any of the white fluff that appears if you pop chocolate in the fridge!).

Cut into tasty bars, eat and enjoy!

The new plan refers to a new way of thinking that I have decided to adopt.

I have realised (not that it's such a big surprise) that I just don't have the desire or inclination to give up yummy food that is traditionally seen as 'bad'. And why should I? Life is short - eat the damn chocolate!

Having said that with such conviction, I do suffer from low self-esteem and I complete hatred of my body image. I'll also admit that I do comfort eat those 'bad' foods. When I say comfort eat I mean binge. Eating one piece of something isn't bad. Eating the whole tray of goodies in one go - that's not healthy.

My dilemma is this:
I like to eat.
I like to eat things that have a large amount of sugar and fat.
I want to continue to eat these things because, as mentioned above, life is short.
Unfortunately, I berate myself daily for my 'bad' food choices and how this makes me feel about myself and my body.
I don't want to continue that.

So, my only option is to exercise.

I think that this (pinned to my Fitness and Health Pinterest board) pretty much sums up what needs to be my motto going forward.

So my new plan is this:

Continue to enjoy baking and eating scrumptious food (although maybe not so gluttonously!).
Exercise to keep my mind and body happy and in order.

I'll let you know how I get on!

Weight a minute...

I am currently on a course of steroids to try and get my ulcerative colitis under control. Now, normally I love, love, love steroids - especially the sugar coated red ones - mmmmmm - but this time I'm not so enamoured.

I've never had any side effects from steroids before. The opposite is in fact true. They cleared up a skin condition I had throughout my teenage years (something that no amount of other drugs or treatments could accomplish) and did I mention they are red and sugar coated? What's not to love?

I'm not one of these people that eschews modern medicine and my personal opinion is that if the doctor prescribes it to you, you take it. That's just me - if you don't like to take medicine and don't agree with it then that's absolutely fine, too. Live and let live, I say. Despite that, I always read the instruction leaflet that comes with any new pills I take. When you're a worrier like me, this is both a necessity and the stupidest thing anyone could do! So I am well aware that one of the side effects, of the negative variety, of steroids is that you can develop "moon face" (a chubby little face) and your appetite can increase dramatically leading to, yep, weight gain.

After feeling a little more bloated than usual, I decided to reassure myself by checking my weight. Just to appease my worry. Another big mistake as it turns out. I'd put on half a stone. Sigh.

Not to worry, I decided it was an anomaly and weighed myself again the next day. It was an anomaly - I was actually 4lbs heavier than the day before.

I know I've been eating shockingly - a combination of comfort eating and yet more comfort eating - but I was truly quite shocked.

And that's when it happened. Mental Jo raised her head and now I am absolutely obsessed with how much I weigh, what I look like and how round my face is. I am ashamed of myself yet don't know if it's a physical or mental issue.

The funny thing is, I don't judge people by what size they are.

Earlier today I was in a supermarket and wanted to look at the sale clothes. There were three ladies and a trolley in the way so I had to double back and go up the aisle another way.

The three ladies were having a conversation about a jacket they were admiring. The first lady was seemingly annoyed because one of her acquaintances had the audacity to suggest that the pair could share clothes.

First lady: (obviously not the actual first lady but hey...) Can you believe she thinks she's the same size as me?
Second lady: I know - she is so so much fatter than you. She's huge.
Third lady: Oh, yes. I would say that she was probably bigger than you.
First lady: She's got a nerve - and she probably believes it, too. Humph. *Giggles*
Second lady: God, if she got any bigger she'd nearly be as fat as Third Lady.

Even I stopped dead at that statement and a frigid chill wafted over all four of us. No-one knew what to say. I even wanted to break the awkward silence and I didn't even know them.

Now, all three of these ladies were larger ladies but why does that matter? Why were they so focused on their weight and their weight versus others.

Third lady could have been Mother Theresa yet her so called friends were so totally focused on what the scales told her and made her feel bad because of it.

Why do we listen to the scales? Why do we listen to these mean people - fat or thin - that tell us we aren't valuable because of a number on a scale? Why do we let the scales and these mean people invade our minds until it's their voices that we hear in our heads telling us that we're fat?

Up until the conversation started, the only thoughts I had about the three ladies is that they were in my way. By the end of the conversation, the only thing I knew for certainty is that Second lady wasn't a very nice person. Fat or thin - she wasn't very nice.

And that's what I have to remember is more important.

Be nice. To each other and to yourself.

That's my plan for this week. Who cares if I've put on weight for whatever reason? I'm still a good person and that's what counts.

That's Okay...

I’m not sure if it’s a symptom of depression or just my personality but I am constantly worrying about what people think of me.

I keep a personal journal and, no word of a lie, I worry about coming across as a moaner with the amount of times I pour out my heart to its pages. Coming across to whom? No-one reads my journal and no-one will ever be allowed to read my journal. So that means that I’m effectively worried what people who might read it long after I’m dead will think of me.

Seriously?

Am I living up to the stereotype of crazy or what?

I know that it sounds ridiculous but I seem to have this perpetual fear of what others may think of me.

The same is true of this blog. I initially started it as a way to escape my depression. Then, I realised that I couldn’t gloss over the fact that depression is a major part of my life and if I wanted to work through it, I couldn’t avoid talking about it.

The repercussions of that is that people reading my blog might also think I’m a moaner if I go on about depression and the mindless number of ‘setbacks’ and steps backward I seem to take.

Man, all this thinking is exhausting!

And do you know what? That’s okay.

The fact that I seem to have minor setbacks on a weekly basis is okay too.

I have depression.

So do 20% of all adults. So I’m not that unusual - hard as it may be to believe!

If I put myself out there people may think that I am endlessly moaning. But, there might be one person, just one person who reads what I have to say and thinks ‘thank God, someone else isn’t finding it as easy to climb out of depression’.

It’s not easy and that’s not just okay - that’s the truth.

This is a real blog and I have to be true to me and truthful with my battles. If people think badly of me, my blog or anything I have to say - do you know what? - that’s okay, too.

Back in the dating game...

I suppose that this year I have been very selfish in that I'm trying to concentrate on making myself happy. Not that I've been neglecting those that I love - at least I hope not. It's just that day by day I'm trying to take back my life and do so by my own rules, dreams and goals.

Today's thinking may seem a little frivolous to some but part of my goal to be happy includes having a partner to share my life with. Not that I need someone to make me happy - I just want to find someone to be happy with.

I dated minimally in school, just as minimally in University, other than a few fleeting distractions (and disasters!) I have pretty much put my hope into online dating. Not to much success, mind you, but I'm an introvert and don't really enjoy parties, nights out etc etc so this seems like my only option.

After my last round of internet dating I decided (again) that it wasn't for me. But now (again) I'm beginning to waver and wonder whether I should give it another go. As I just mentioned - I don't really have many other options and I'd quite like to not just accept my transformation to the spinster-side of the street will soon be complete.

There's just one problem.

As part of my new way of thinking, I refuse to be anyone but myself (easier said than done but that's for another day). I would rather be alone than with someone who didn't know the real me and didn't accept me - flaws, quirks and all. I don't want any time wasters. I don't want anyone who isn't going to be in something for the long haul (I'm not getting any younger, after all!). And that's not to mention all the superficial/shallow things that I would prefer but wouldn't want to be forced to admit that they would be a deal breaker (tall, older, etc...).

Basically I know what I want and if I went internet dating I wouldn't want to settle for any less.

Do you see what this one problem might be?

Yep - I've become a dating-zilla.

In the beginning I was all optimistic and happy.

Then doubts starting creeping in (along with the weirdos).

And now it's rage-a-holic, scary lady who is just a little bit freaky with what's 'supposed' to be and what's not allowed.

Then I realised - I'm the dating equivalent of Phoebe from Friends when she tries her hand at collecting donations for Christmas.

Oh dear...