Spoonie tour guide is go…

Last week my sis in law’s nephew was visiting from Australia. He is making good use of his youth & doing a little travelling. His epic trip takes him around Europe before hitting the south of Africa & then stopping off in UAE on the way back down under. Obviously we wanted to show our visiting family a good time. Thus, the spoonie tour guide & another week in pictures was born. 

Since Simon’s mum & aunts had spent happy years in Glasgow he wanted to have a good look around. My brother & niece are also cheerleaders for our fair city, so we didn’t want to let the side down. First stop was Kelvingrove Art Gallery & Museum. Kelvingrove is one of my favourite places. An impressive collection of varied exhibits housed in a stunning building, which itself sits in a beautiful park. Simon was impressed with the architecture & variety. I was delighted to get reacquainted with my favourite Lowry, some early body positive art & a really old tree.

Kelvingrove Art gallery & Museum


We capped of Kelvingrove with a quick walk in the park. After saying hello to some very friendly squirrels we were joined by my mum & sister for a bite to eat. Special mention for Brewdogs’s vegan hotdog. Yummers.

Glasgow Xmas lights

Pitch black & freezing by half 5 isn’t ideal for visitors used to a warmer climate, but it does show off the Christmas lights to perfection. I swear Fraser’s add more lights every year. I’m not complaining, I’m a sucker for a twinkly light. Argyle arcade is getting in on the action too. We thought this looked like a very festive cat. What do you think?

In between excursions I squeezed in a date night with the Toyboy. Wagamama’a vegan pad Thai & The Death of Stalin are getting a big thumbs up. They are respectively delicious & hilarious. The TB agreed. I also found a little time to beautify my nails & spread some #ProjectPostIt wisdom.

Project post it

On Wednesday we took a day trip to Edinburgh. Simon was really keen to see the castle (his first) & it didn’t disappoint. We were really lucky to get fresh, clear day. The views from the castle were spectacular. 


I hadn’t been inside the castle since I was a child, but was pleasantly surprised. The buildings are amazing & the restoration inside is really well done. There are are so many little details that are so well done. It’s crazy to peer out of windows & realise much of what you’re looking is as it was hundreds of years ago. 


We met this fine unicorn fella & his lion friend keeping watch outside the National War Memorial. Plus discovered this cemetery for soldier’s dogs. R.I.P. puppers. 


Importantly,  our castle visit finally bestowed upon me the recognition I deserve. I am Scotland’s Crown Jewels. 


With temperatures dropping we got Simon inside for some food. Then had a quick mess around with the mirrors at the camera obscura. This is a fab attraction that we sadly didn’t have time for, but it’s definitely worth a visit. A quick glimpse at more Xmas lights warmed our hearts before we headed back west.

On his last full day in Scotland we took our intrepid traveller to Loch Lomond. What better spot to show off our country than on the Bonnie, Bonnie banks?



The view from Luss pier is divine. The village is lovely, the pub has a real fire & hearty fare. We couldn’t ask for more. 

We got back into town with just enough time to check out the Xmas market, more lights & gorge ourselves in the swanky Atlantic Line. 

As much fun as I had during my stint as a spoonie tour guide, it wore me out. Thus a weekend in my jammies with this pair was in order. There is a lot to be said for hot baths, cuddles & carry on.

A privileged person’s guide to privilege…

I will never understand why the concept of privilege is so offensive to so many people. Mostly, let it be said, privileged people. It is beyond me why it frightens people to look at the privilege in their life & say yes, that has helped me and no, I did nothing to earn that aid. ‘Owning your privilege’ is merely acknowledging your good fortune. Privilege does not make you bad a person. However, refusing to countenance it’s existence makes you a bit of a dick. Since no one wants to be one of those, let’s go through this together.

If you belong to a group who hold power in society, you have privilege. If you belong to a group that is considered the default in society, you too have privilege. The fact that you do not face institutionalised discrimination just for being who you are is a huge advantage. Being born white, straight, cis, able bodied are all privileges. You will not face prejudice or disadvantages for merely existing in your body. Life is not a level playing field; some of us are sprinting before the starter’s pistol sounds.

Part of this kind of privilege is the fact that you did nothing to earn your advantage. Thus, many people will rail against the notion that they should have to apologise for holding it. Well, no one is asking you to. You are not responsible for the fact that you are white or male or cis gendered. No one is critising you for being any of these (or any other privileged) things. The problem comes when you refuse to own the benefits you have gained from life’s lottery. When some people have to struggle just to reach the starting line, ignoring that becomes offensive. We do not choose what privilege we come into this world with, but we do choose what we do with it. Acknowledge the factors beyond your control that eased your path. Then use your position to clear space for those without your advantages. 

Some of you may be thinking I have one of those privileges you speak of & my life is hard, so I don’t feel ahead of the game. Privilege is not a guarantee of fabulous life. You could be a straight, white, cis, able bodied man & still have terrible things happen to you. The privilege comes in the fact that they did not happen because you were straight or white or cis or able bodied or male. No matter your situation the abscence of the barriers that come with being a minority are still always advantageous. 

It’s also important to remember that it is possible to have privilege in one area & none in another. For example I am white, from a comfortable back ground, well educated, cis gendered & straight passing. I am fully of aware of the advantages my parents have given me and of the discrimination I have never had to face. I hold a lot of privilege. However, I am also disabled, I’m female & I’m fat; all of which incur significant hardships. My daily life is a slog. I do face discrimination & I am discredited, but I’m still lapping my trans, BAME, LGBTQ, impoverished (& so many more) brothers & sisters in the race of life. 

So, privilege isn’t always cut & dry. It does not translate to a perfect life. Nevertheless, it’s a head start. It is a whole bunch of problems you’ll never have to even consider. Privilege is being able to dismiss that the premise is even real. 

In keeping with my entreaty that you use whatever privilege you have to help dismantle the current societal hegemony I would encourage to read these voices on the topic.

Lori Lakin Hutcherson

Strong in broken places

Taking up too much space 

That crazy crippled chick

The Second City

Make it up as we go along…

Historically, relationships have been a fairly fraught affair for me. I have found myself involved with various types of difficult men. I never quite managed to align my expectations with theirs. Someone always felt short changed or infuriated or plain hurt. 

I’ve had men who wanted to control or tame me. Guys who loved my weirdness until they realised it was permanent & the novelty wore off. There have been proposals; both accepted & rejected, but I never did make it down the aisle. I’ve fallen hard for those who could not make me a priority & struggled to breathe with those who couldn’t focus on anything else. 

I’ve dumped so many men for so many reasons. The tiniest of infractions & the hugest of betrayals.   I’ve disappointed by being too ill or too strident or too independent or too me. Their lack of strangeness or loyalty or compassion has disappointed me right back. To be honest I had given up on the idea of finding someone & just being happy. I watched everyone I know meet someone & like them & build a life & make it work. 

I thought, maybe, I just wasn’t built that way. All my love songs were heart wrenching. And so very complicated. 

Then I took a chance on a cheeky smile with a social conscience. This time, romance is easy. For once we might be on the same page. After all this time, I met someone I liked & I want to see where it can go.  So far it’s taken me to fun & comfort & excitement & care & trust. Oh & access to a really sweet arse. 

Sure, we bicker. He is full of nonsense. He never picks up his socks. He always wants to debate my veganism. I have tell him to suck my dick way too much, but I feel like we’re on the same team. I don’t feel pressured to be anything other than I am. We’re just taking life as it comes & it feels good. 

Early bird gift guide…

I know I am getting into the Xmas chat a bit early & I apologise. I only do it because it takes me ages to get organised. I have loads of Dec birthdays & far off loved ones to send to on top of regular Xmas. The added complications of spoonie life means I’m usually already quietly Xmas shopping in October. I am certain there are others just like me out there, thus I thought some early gift guides might be useful.

I’m staring with this fairly random guide as I think most folk are a bit eclectic in their tastes. I find all those really specific guides a bit annoying because very few people fit in just one box. So, i have collated this bunch of cool, but varied gifts. I’m calling it, traditional eclectic, all the standard crimbo fare with some twists. 

I may have mentioned before that christmas without velvet is just not on. Velvet clothes feel divine, so imagine how amazing this most tactile of fabrics would feel right next to your skin. Yup, velvet lingerie is definitely a sexy festive gift. Of course along with something to slink about in, something to slob in is also required at Xmas. Never underestimate the power of good jammies. 

All good book shops, New Look, Plus size lingerie lounge, New Look, All good book shops,The literary gift company. 

Hand in hand with nightwear go a really good book & this delightful cushion to lounge upon. I have become a bit of a cushion fanatic, but I think most book lovers would be pleased with this couch addition. 

Everyone likes a bit fancy at Xmas time. Wether that be twinkling on your eyelids or quirky touches around the house. 


eBay, Asda Home, Urban Decay (Heavy Metal). 


Barry M, I want one of those, Pyro Pet, Ciate (Glitter Flip).

The rise of the christmas jumper in recent years has tickled my fancy. The sheer variety of festive knitwear means there is something to suit all tastes. Chocolate & jewellery are also Xmas staples. Again, if you look hard enough you can find some to please everyone. 


Vegan Town, Marks & Spencer’s, Bonnie Bling. 

As a kid I always had a holy advent calendar, so the idea of a vegan choc one really appeals to me. Making a statement with my accessories is so up my street, but sometimes I just want my baubles to look pretty.  There’s a bit of each here.


Rebel Circis, Marks & Spencer’s, Fuck the Tories. 

If my haste upsets you, I get it. If however you have a massive Xmas list that you need to get ahead of, have at it. 

The ghouls all came…

Happy Halloween! Everything about this season is a win. Dressing up ✔️scary films✔️pumpkin fun✔️ an excuse to eat all the monkey nuts ✔️ What’s not to love?

I kicked off my Halloween hijinks with a little Greek mythology. My amazing sis in law’s sister (surely their should best word for that rejstionship) sent me this Medusa  headdress all the way from oz & thus a costume was born. On Saturday night I got all greened up & headed to a party. I was accompanied by my troll doll sister & the TB in the creepiest Trump mask in the world. I was so impressed with the costumes at the party, people really went all out. I of course forgot to snap pics of most of the costumes, but folk were really smart & funny. 


Next on the spooky agenda is a scary film on the big screen. Cineworld are showing The Shining tonight & I cannot wait. I’ve only seen it once & my sis has never seen it. We’re both prone to screaming at the jumpy bits, so it’s bound to be an eventful night. My excitement has spilled onto my nails, which may have gotten a tiny bit themed. 


Last, but not least, it wouldn’t be Halloween with about a pumpkin. I have no spoons for all the mess of carving, so I got a bit creative with some paint. I’ll be out tonight, but I’m sure the kids will be happy to help themselves to some treats. Bronan approves of the reduced door knocking. 


A day in the life…

This morning I was rudely awakened at about 3am. The ill mannered culprit was pain. This time it was intense & centred in my stomach. So, i got up, took my stomach meds, some painkillers & hoped for relief.

Relief was not to come. I lay in the dark for half an hour waiting for the medication to work it’s magic. My body was having none of it, a wave of nausea washed over me & I knew I was going to be sick. I ‘rushed’ to the bathroom where I proceeded to vomit repeatedly. Each violent wretch sent pain shooting down my back. An hour later I’m sweating, dizzy, sore & unable to get off the bathroom floor.

All the throwing up had triggered some hefty heartburn & reflux, but meds weren’t  an option for fear of kicking off more vomiting. I slowly picked myself off the floor & retreated to the living room. Once situated on the sofa, I turned out the lights & put Joni Mitchell on low.  Over the next several hours,

I tried breathing exercises,

put on my tens, 

paced, 

drank mint tea,

curled into ball,

took more medication, 

vommed more medication 

watched the sun come up

& resigned myself to having a rough day. 

That’s exactly what happened. Today was a riot of pain. My stomach continued to be a nightmare. My back ache progressed into agony. I was intermittently sick throughout the day. Thus I had to cancel appointments. Most of the writing scheduled for today wasn’t even attempted. More housework piled up as I struggled to control my pain & rising panic. An acute flare like is this stressful because I never have any idea how long it might last. I could be in better shape tomorrow or I could be in hospital. I live alone & I work freelance; if I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done. I worry. A lot. I grow concerned about 

staying solvent, 

my professional reputation,

keeping my home presentable,

keeping myself presentable,

how I will keep important appointments,

letting my loved ones down, 

losing control of my mental health, 

Basically, I worry about everything, from the state of my kitchen floor to the state of my relationship. Of course all this stress is detrimental to my health. Especially with regards my to stomach problems, stress is the enemy. Likewise, stress is an anathema to sleep. Lack of sleep makes illness more difficult to cope with, but of course pain & illness also make it harder to sleep. If I can’t manage my anxiety it will spiral into panic attacks & depression. Any decline in my mental health reduces my productivity, my ability to leave the house & my chances at engaging with the world positively. Around & around I go. Symptoms exacerbate symptoms all adding up to an almost permanantly exhausted, scared, sick & sore me. 

And this is my life. This level of illness is not rare. My good days are not pain free. I don’t know when the bad times will hit. I wake up every morning with no idea if I’ll be able to get out of bed. Chronic illness is fucking nightmare. It forces you let people down, to miss huge chunks of your own life & to live that life always walking on broken glass.  

Polish my nails real bright…

Some folks need their hair done or lippie on or maybe even just a big smile to feel like they’re killing it. For me it’s kick arse nails. I don’t feel myself unless my nails are sporting a dapper polish. Finger nails may be a strange place to get a confidence boost, but c’est la vie. My mum always has perfect nails, my sister’s are exquisite; who am I to let the side down?

I always do my own nails. On the rare occassion that I’ve had them done professionally I’ve felt like I could do just as good a job (if not better). Thus I am diy manicure enthusiast. Even nail art is a lot easier than most people think. If you  invest in the right brushes & have a little patience, most folk can master it. My secret weapon is nail drying spray. Instantly drying each coat or detail saves so much time & frustrating smudges. I am often asked where I find the time to do my nails & this is one of the few times that insomnia works to my advantage. I almost always do my nails in the middle of night. There has to be some perk to living life perpetually tired & sore. This, my friends is it…




Go gentle…

This year World Mental Health Day has intersected with Baby Loss Awareness week resulting in lots of media/online talk about both subjects. Obviously, this presses pretty much all of my buttons as my mental health has historically (& currently) been so interconnected with my losses.

I believe society’s discomfort of miscarriage increases the distress experienced by those who live it. Feeling that I could not talk about my loss certainly compounded the trauma of my first miscarriage. There is a massive crossover between mental illness & baby loss, I believe part of that is how we treat people who have to deal with either issue. I also believe that making really simple changes in attitudes would allieviate so much pain. Miscarriage & infant loss will always be horrific, but if we allow people to openly explore & process those losses long term mental illness can be avoided. Or at the very least recognised & treated. 


Miscarriage  & other types of baby loss affect many people. We can all help make their lives easier by following these straight forward suggestions.

1. Acknowledge the loss.

Many people feel so uncomfortable about this kind of loss that they simply don’t acknowledge it. I know that this often comes from a good place, one might fear upsetting a grieving parent or intruding on their privacy.  I get that, but trust me, the silence is worse. If you know that someone has miscarried a simple ‘I am sorry for your loss’ goes a long way. Having people recognise that you have suffered a loss is massive. Too often those of us who have experienced miscarriage are  left feeling that our child only existed for us. Having people in your life affirm that the life you carried was real & had worth is extremely valuable. 

2. Really listen. 

Asking someone how they are, sending love etc is a good gesture, but if you really want help, listen to their response. When I lost my first baby what I really needed was to talk about it. I desperately needed to express how I felt & what I was struggling with, but never felt it was ok to do so. Burying those emotions compounded my trauma & led to a complete breakdown. If someone needs to talk about their experiences, please let them. 

3. Respect the grief.

When you have a miscarriage you grieve. Your grief is not only for the baby you have lost, but also for the life you have been planning. Grief is a very personal thing, everyone does it in their own way & on their own timetable. Wether that involves a memorial service, commemorating an anniversary, a tattoo or even never speaking of it again, please respect that. Don’t judge or rush.  Be supportive of whatever your grieving friend needs . There are no right or wrong ways to heal, even if you feel uncomfortable with someone’s chosen expression of grief. Just be kind & remember it is not your journey.


4. Don’t hide baby news.

I understand the urge to shield loved ones from pain. Certainly be sensitive, but share & celebrate your baby news. I can guarantee that although it may sometimes be painful I never want to dampen anyone’s joy. Losing a baby is hard, but it does not prevent me from being thrilled for other people. Any tears I have to shed will be done in private & are only my concern. I want all good things for everyone that I love. I absolutely adore the beautiful little people my siblings & have friends have been blessed with. I have never met a person who had suffered a loss who felt any differently. 

There you have it. Four straightforward pieces of advice that may lighten the load of someone who is suffering. All you have to do is swallow your discomfort, listen & be respectful. Surely, that’s not too much to ask? 

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Do you want to know a secret?…

I have a secret. It could be argued that keeping this secret makes me a bit of a hypocrite. For all my body positivity, there is one thing about myself that I cannot learn to love; my facial hair. 


Until about I was about 30, I wasn’t a very hairy person at all. My body hair was all fair & fine. As such it wasn’t something that I gave much thought to. To begin with I had a little bit of fine hair on my neck, which I put down to getting a bit older. The hair quickly progressed to my chin, then to my upper lip. I started waxing it & so began my facial hair war. 

As the hair got thicker I consulted my gp (as a person who had crazy periods, sometimes 1 a year, sometimes lasting 6wks) PCOS should have been any easy diagnosis. In actual fact it took 6yrs to convince a dr to even investigate. Blood tests revealed increased hormone levels & that was that. I was prescribed medication to regulate my periods, which thankfully worked. The beard, however, remains. I’m too pale & fair for laser removal and nothing else really does the job. The hair continues to get worse. I’ve tried waxing, hair removal cream & even a No!No!; none of which keep my face smooth for more than a day or two.


I can love my fat & my scars. I don’t even care what others thinks about my often hairy legs. I feel no compulsion to remove my pubic hair other than when I feel like it. I don’t wear make up daily & my hair is most often to be found in a very messy bun. I have skin tags & moles & birthmarks that it has never even occurred to me to feel self conscious about. I am almost entirely impervious to societal demands upon my body. Expect it seems when it comes to my increasingly hairy face. 

A hairy face appears to be my line in the self love sand. I cannot get past the notion that it renders me repugnantly unwomanly. As I write those words I know how stupid & misogynstic & backwards they are. Yet, none of my strident feminist views prevent me from being utterly ashamed of my stubbly chin. 

The fact that I have internalised this patriarchal bullshit makes me so angry. I know I don’t have to measure up to some nonsensical notion of femininity, but part of me still wants to. I hate that. I hate how much energy I waste on getting rid of this hair. I hate that despite my best efforts I have bought into such a narrow definition of what being a woman is. 


Maybe part of this is the same as any other stigma, no one talks about it. Well, not outside hushed, unhappy tones with our closest ones. Or whispered exchanges with professionals who might rid us of the dreaded hair. I know other women who have PCOS, but none of them have visible facial hair & I’ve never asked. Are they too constantly removing fuzz? I wouldn’t know because I’m not sure if talking about it would be rude or even out right offensive. So, I just carry on feeling like the only person who could have a side job in Victorian freak show. 

Until now. I’ve decided to come clean. Yup, I have a beard. I may not ever be ready to let the world see it, but at least I can start talking about it. It’s just hair, right? Fuck it. Girls can be furry too. What’s the worst that can happen? Someone might even have a good tip on how to get rid of it! 

If you enjoy my writing you can support me here or on Patreon.

Bright as yellow…

I may well be the worst fashion blogger in existence. I keep planning & executing the funkiest outfits, which is great. Then I forget to actually photograph them.

This time I did remember, but only at the last minute. By that point both my outfit & my photographer were a little bit worse for wear. That aside I really like this dress. It’s one that has been lurking unworn in my wardrobe because I always forget about it.


Dress – New Look

Shoes – Primark

Belt – Asos Curve

I dusted it off for the Musicians Against Homelessness event at Drygate. It was a fun night for a good cause & I discovered a new band that I really like. Feet of Clay had a charlatans x somber beach boys type vibe that I could definitely get into.


So, cute dress, cool venue & a great cause added up to not a bad Saturday night. Even if the toy boy & his brother did turn up in matching outfits.