I gave you a brief introduction to my beautiful ginger boy a few months back. Now that we’ve had time to get to know each other I wanted share all the details. Plus tell you about the awesome organisation who brought us together.
I feel extremely lucky to have found this boy. He is a dream cat who has settled right in. When he arrived he had been an indoor cat for quite a while. He was curious about outside, but a little scared. Within weeks he had gone from not venturing past the doorstep, to using the catflap to come and go as he pleased. He loves to patrol his garden and make sure no other cats even think about entering. I also instigated a name change. I wasn’t sure if he would take to a new name, but after a few weeks he was happily responding to his new moniker. Since he is orange like Irn Bru, I have named him Bru. It suits him to a tee.
Bru is a snuggler. He climbs right up on my chest for cuddles complete with possessive little head buts. It is incredible to have won his trust so quickly. He has of course stolen my heart. Bru has also claimed his spots; window sill for optimal observation, top of the wardrobe for being king of his castle and right beside or on me when he’s ready for head rubs. He does occasionally exhibit the trademark ginger cat traits. For instance he frequently fall off his perch whilst sleeping. Mostly though, he is as sharp as his claws. He learns fast and adapts smoothly. I’m so proud of him.
As much as he is a love bug, he is crazy strong. He moves with speed, leaps great heights with ease and when he wants a cuddle, he is getting a cuddle. He needs a big fuss when I get out of bed in the morning and whenever I leave the house. He has taken to following me outside and demanding some love at the end of the drive. He hates it when I have a shower or bath. He sits right by bath and screams out his concern until I get out. Then he follows me around as I get dried, dressed etc just to make sure the drenching has damaged me. Bru is a sweetheart and I adore him.
Now, how did I get to be his Mum? That’s thanks to Glasgow Pet Collective. An amazing charity who not only find home for animals who need them they also help people keep their beloved pets. Their inclusive policies are a breath of fresh air. I cannot recommend them enough. I fostered to adopt with Bru, it was very straightforward. The first few weeks that I had him in my care I was officially fostering. Glasgow Pet Collective took care of cost of neuturing and vaccinations and I kept them updated on Bru’s progress. Communication was fantastic and as they knew I wanted to adopt we moved towards that. I signed the papers and became his Mama after about a month. I really appreciate that the collective support foster parents and ensure all adoptees are properly placed.
If you would like to support Glasgow Pet Collective’s work you can donate, foster or volunteer.
It occurred to me that there had been an outfit drought this summer. I decided I must correct that error with a bountiful summer style post.
I have searched long and hard for the perfect pair of denim shorts. I am so happy to have finally found them. Of course they’re leopard print. Eveything is better in leopard. I call this outfit ‘the ladybird’ because that is what my little nephew told me I looked like.
Shorts – Simply Be Polka Dot Top – Daisy Street Sunglasses – Where Light
Next up is this amazing tie dye jumpsuit. It is going to be perfect for my upcoming holiday. It’s super light and floaty. Also great for unpredictable Glasgow weather with just a little layering.
Jumpsuit – Freestyle T -Shirt – Curated By Girls
This red top another one waiting for my holiday. It’s actually part of a co ord, it has adorable matching shorts. I wasn’t going to let it languish in a drawer until then. It pairs well with so many things, but since I love red and leopard this has been my favourite combo. I don’t often flash the belly, but I love this look.
Skirt – House of Frasers Blouse – Simply Be
Sheer has been the theme of my summer. We have had so many crazy hot days that my peely wally skin has needed to be covered, but also breathe. This sheer t shirt has been a go to. This little skirt with built in shorts has also been a lifesaver. Great for the hot weather, but allows me to wrangle little ones without flashing.
Skirt – Halara T-Shirt – Boohoo
Last, but not least is this dreamy dress. A girl can’t help but feel lovely when draped in this starry night creation. It’s originally from a dreaded ff purveyor, but I got it second hand. I feel better about it being on my body than in landfill.
Dress – Thrifted
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On Saturday I might I watched The Biggest Loser. I didn’t really want to, I knew it would infuriate me and I was correct.
I never watched The Biggest Loser when it was showing. Not because I knew better, at the time I was very much steeped in diet culture & self loathing. It just wasn’t available on whatever tv channels I had at the time. So, for me, this was the first time seeing clips of the show. I felt rage, sadness and an overwhelming urge to intervene. The abuse those people were subjected to is appalling. Sadly I remember how commonplace that was at the time. I completely understand why the contestants signed up for this public humiliation.
For me, the documentary went way too easy on those involved in creating this programme. Right off the bat, Bob Harper (one of the show trainers) claims that he regrets nothing he did on The Biggest Loser. No one takesany real responsibility for the fact that they caused real and lasting harm. The film makers allow the producers, trainers and show Dr to dodge accountability with pathetic excuses. I felt that the documentary ultimately reinforced the message of the show; the ends justify the means.
The creators of The Biggest Loser (BL) admit that they purposely used sensationalist tactics to attract attention. They knew the connotations of the name and played on it. They wanted people to tune in thinking they could judge these ‘fat losers’. They encouraged the trainers to be outrageous, they wanted contestants to throw up, cry etc. They knew the vile ‘challenges’ were cruel and unnecessary, but it made good television. They excused this exploitation by claiming that they were improving people’s health. In other words, all was acceptable in the name of thin. Everyone involved knew they were hurting people. Dr Robert Huizenga, the programme’s medical advisor told them so. He claimed that he regularly met with the trainers to explain his recommendations. He also admitted he was aware that they ignored him; they cut the calorific intake to dangerous levels and over trained people to the point of injury. Dr Huizenga tries to paint himself as caring medical professional who was helpless in his attempts to prevent harm. In reality he had a duty of care, he should have left the show and reported the dangerous practices. He could have stopped taking their money and spoken out at any time. He didn’t, he continued to profit from damaging fat people. Not only the people on the show, but all fat people who were impacted by the message of the BL.
That gist of that message was that fat people are lazy and gross. The ‘temptation’ challenges reinforced the idea that fat people can’t control themselves. The cruelty of those challenges is ignored in the discussion, the participants were forced to choose between gorging on ‘junk food’ or missing visits with their families. The footage included in the documentary shows participants crying whilst eating pizza slices; their suffering was entertainment. The show revelled in degrading the fat competitors. Tasks that made them build food towers with their mouths, trainers screaming, participants set against each other. Placing people on extreme diets, working them past exhaustion daily and then capturing their disputes and meltdowns on camera is repulsive. Worse still is the soul destroying message the trainers rammed home. Once the abuse was concluded they would tell participants that it was for their own good. I only shouted because I care about you, I knew you could do it, I didn’t want you to give up. Then the nail in the coffin, ‘don’t make me have to do that again’. The lesson to the participants and the viewing public? This is your fault. It’s your fault you are fat. It’s your fault you don’t apply yourself. It’s your fault that I had to abuse you.
All of this aside, the BL’s main claim, that they were improving lives, was obviously not true. Even if weight loss was a magic cure all, their process was clearly unsustainable. No one can live on 600-800 calories p/d forever. People with jobs, families and lives cannot train for 8hrs a day, everyday. It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that as soon as participants return to their regular life, they will gain weight. I have partaken in enough crash dieting to know how quickly the weight returns. One of the former contestants in the documentary talked of how he asked the BL to set up aftercare and was denied. Other contestants reached out to seek help for injuries sustained on the show and were ignored. Cut to a producer explaining that they didn’t have the budget for aftercare. Plus he didn’t think it was their responsibility. They were making a tv show; what happened after wasn’t their business. Meanwhile we learn the BL franchise earned billions. They licensed their name to every product you can imagine. Further exploiting vulnerable people desperate to lose weight. It was a cash grab and fat people were paying for it.
The only entirely critical voice in the documentary is fat activist, Aubrey Gordon. Her contributions are insightful and impactful. Alas, there was not nearly enough of her. Even the former BL contestants who were critical of the show were still heartbreakingly steeped in fat phobia. They were still seeking weight loss, still blaming themselves and still felt they weren’t good enough. The evidence of the consequence of extreme dieting was somewhat skimmed over. Studies on broken metabolism, life threatening conditions and even Bob Harper’s heart attack are treated as incidental. They place no importance on the fact that a man who adhered to the supposed ideal diet and lifestyle had a massive heart attack at 52. As if that information doesn’t disprove the central argument of The Biggest Loser.
The documentary concluded with more diet culture propaganda. They give obesity stats without ever mentioning that those numbers are based on BMI. A measurement that has been conclusively proven to be inaccurate. It’s a non scientific, racist scale. The documentary makers allow the show creators, trainers and Dr to claim good intent and even positive results. Their hearts were in the right place, they say. They made some people thin. Damn the ramifications. After all, anything is better fat.
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Do you believe in fate? Maybe you think even asking the question is absurd. Part of me agrees. Life just happens, right?
There doesn’t appear to be much rhyme or reason to the things that happen. Whether examined through a personal or global lens, it all feels random. Chaotic, even. Yet, there a times when the pieces fall precisely together. Incredibly unlikely circumstances align to create perfect moments. Almost like they were destined to be.
The Man
We didn’t live in the same city or have the same interests. We didn’t know any of the same people or enjoy the same places. The chances of us ever crossing paths was minute. Cross they did. We met at an event that he attended as a professional commitment and I was drawn to for ethical reasons. Here’s the thing, he was handsome & broody, but speaking another language. Not literally; we just weren’t on the same page at all. Still, I was intrigued. I wanted to keep listening to all the things that wouldn’t normally interest me. Alas, someone wanted to introduce me to an editor and blah, blah, blah. The moment passed, along with any chance of seeing the enigmatic stranger again. Or so I thought. Three days later I was cc’d on an email that I spent 5 seconds on before it landed in my trash box. Luckily for me someone else on the recipients list paid more attention. His ensuing email led to a steamy romance and an enduring friendship. Now that strange man is an integral part of life. Almost like it was meant to be.
The Finances
At various points in my life I have experienced weird financial luck. Sometimes tiny and sometimes more significant. I have found myself short of the funds needed for something specific. Then out of nowhere I will receive money that I had no expectation of. An out of blue tax rebate, holiday pay that I wasn’t even aware I was due, unpaid invoice is suddenly satisfied. A last minute monetary reprieve. This might sound fanciful or even just plain stupid, but I’ve always had this thought that perhaps someone or something was looking out for me.
The Job
I had just graduated. I took on full time hours in the call centre I had been working evenings in. Three weeks in, I was losing my mind. 12hr shifts that were actually 13hrs (they didn’t pay me for the legally required breaks), customers who either wanted to fight about their bill or ask me to describe the films on the adult channels. Oh and managers who were trained by some sort of despot. However, the rent needed to be paid. So, I found myself applying for every job under the sun and accepting the first one that was remotely suitable. The first few weeks I thought I had leaped out of the pan and into the fire. It was so boring. The most mundane, repetitive office job imaginable. My manager was an overly religious ogre. It was dire. Then some fellow new starts hit the floor and things started looking up. We clicked immediately. They were all in similar positions, just graduated or in need of stop gap employment. Suddenly there’s laughter, common ground and epic nights out. They made that job bearable and that job gave me the impetus to do what I really wanted to do. I began to seek out writing jobs. I put myself out there and started to get small jobs. It was the beginning of my career. Had I not found myself in such an employment dead end I may not have summoned the bravery to go for it. Who knows what twist of fate brought us all together in that godforsaken retail park, but I’m grateful. 20 odd years later they’re all still in my life. We’ve formed deep & wonderful friendships. Feels to me that we were meant to meet.
The Flower
I have always liked white flowers. They’re fresh and pretty. In the aftermath of my first miscarriage I took a walk in the park by my flat. I needed some time alone to think and feel. As I sat by the river a whole bunch of white flowers drifted past. I don’t know how they came to be there, they were fresh cut flowers. Whatever the reason they felt significant. Since then white flowers have been a presence in my life. I’ll see them in the wild in moments when I need comfort. I saw an arrangement at the nurses station when I was admitted after my third miscarriage and a white rose motif in a stained glass window at the clinic I attended for tests to ascertain the reason for my recurrent losses. White flowers just turn up, serendipitously, a sign that my little ones are somewhere.
I seem to have almost entirely neglected my wee corner of the internet. So, here comes a potted history of my June.
In truth is most of the month was not a surprise. However, it was lovely. I had a lot of time with my littles, much of it in the sun – always a bonus. We’ve had first haircut in an actual salon, teddy bear tea parties, cat cafes plus a whole lot of our usual nonsense.
Glasgow summer is as unpredictable as always. Amongst those sunny days we have had plenty of rain. The weird bit is most of those rainy days have remained warmed. I do not do well in the heat, so I have been wearing as few clothes as is decent (& practical). I’ve had a hankering for some cute shorts for a while anyway. It took a little time to hunt down right pair, but I finally snagged them.
Shorts – Simply Be
Now we get to an exciting part of the month. Not only did I get dolled up and drink delicious wine with the grown ups, I followed it with seeing the most thrilling band ever. Pulp! I have been a Jarvis devotee since the mid 90’s. His powers have not decreased. They are amazing. Their show was the perfect mix of new material, banging classics and lesser known gems. I even harked back to my youthful gig going days and drank a few pints of cider. Perfect night and if you’ll allow me to bang my own drum; perfect outfit too.
Which brings me to peak June excitment. I’m bringing the drums back for a big roll…………… Let me present the newest member of my clan, Bru. He is a very sweet ginger boy who has been an absolute angel so far. We’re just getting to know each other, but I am very excited to be his Mama.
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Yup, it’s time for my monthly appeal to your generosity. There are so many groups in desperate need. These are just some suggestions that I have given my support to this month
This month I will continue to donate to two families in Gaza. Their situation continues to be dire. If you have anything to spare, it would make a huge difference.
I also chose to support UNFPA emergency birth kit campaign. These kits include essentials like Soap, latex gloves & umbilical cord clip. These simple tools can save the lives of mother & baby when people are forced to give birth in challenging conditions. These kits fight the risk of infection, one of the leading causes of maternal mortality worldwide. You can provide an emergency kit with just a £4 donation. If you are able, please consider giving whatever you can.
I know all is not well in the world and many of us are struggling. I only ask that if you are able, you consider making a contribution to any of the following appeals.
Another month over and still no improvement for the people of Gaza. The conditions remain horrific and Palestinians still desperately need our help. I have been supporting Haitham & Khalil and would dearly like you to give whatever you can. Haitham was studying to be nurse before this horror began. He is raising money to support his whole family. Khalil is a footballer who has dreamed of being a professional goalkeeper all his life. He and his family are struggling to access basic necessities like clean water. Please consider helping these young men if you are able.
My amazing sister did the Kilt Walk last week. Last year she participated 7mths pregnant, this year she had the baba strapped to her chest. She walked as part of a team raising money for Spina Bifida Scotland. Each year Spina Bifida Scotland must raise over £1 million to fund support services for children, young people and adults with the life long condition. With little statutory funding they rely almost entirely on donations. Please consider making a donation.
April has been a very up & down month. Lots of really lovely time spent with my littles & their people. Also, an equal amount of time despairing at current events & struggling with mood dips.
I have coined the name ‘Depression Light’ for this state. It’s not deepest, darkest agony. More of an ugh that makes everything feel a bit futile. I am generally anxious and really not sleeping well. Sometimes it’s the little things that keep you afloat. These have been my buoyancy aids this month.
Spring Lambs
Taking my niblings to see the newborn lambs at a Farm Park was very life affirming. Watching the kids pet the baby lambs & their Mums was really wonderful. I even got a wee snuggle in myself. We learned that most sheep have twins, some have triplets & even rarely have quads. Imagine having all those little legs inside you? Animals are incredible. They mostly give birth all on their own and their babies are up on their precious little legs within 20mins. All that & they are adorable.
Iron Strawberry
My silly body doesn’t properly digest iron. To combat the resultant anemia I have occasional iron infusions and daily iron supplements. My liquid iron came in a revolting mint chocolate flavour. It did not taste at all like chocolate. The best description I can give of the flavour is a gritty, oily minty nightmare. I did not enjoy swallowing a spoon of it twice a day. The arrival of this month’s prescription brought a partial reprieve; strawberry flavoured iron! Honestly, it doesn’t taste good, but it is not the horror show of the minty choc. Small victories.
Vinyl Bonding
One of the things my niece requested for Xmas was a record player. She’s 15 and very into all things retro. It came as quite a shock that most the retro she’s loving hails from my hey day. Once I got over how old that made me, I have been loving introducing her to classics from my youth. Turns out we have similar musical tastes. I have been loving sending her old albums and the long FaceTimes we have to discuss them. I was worried that I’d lose my cool auntie status once she hit high school. Alanis Morrisette, Jeff Buckley and our joint penchant for saying it how it is might just buy me another few years.
The ‘Beautiful’ Game
A funny thing happened whilst I was doing some research for a piece. The piece was on football culture, I am familiar as an observer. I grew up in the West Of Scotland surrounded by football fanatics. I know a bit about football culture. I don’t however enjoy the game. It bores the life out of me. However, during my research I discovered something I unexpectedly love. Stick to Football, is a podcast (it’s filmed too) where ex footballers talk about football. Except they stray from the topic and it’s hilarious. Especially Roy Keane. I doubt I could have told you who he was a few months ago, I am now a bonafide fan. I do have to fast forward when they get bogged down in tactics and players I’ve never heard of, but I still look forward to a new weekly episode. I even ended up reading both of Keane’s books. Those close to me find it hilarious that I, the vocal hater, am an avid watcher of something with football in the title. Hey, you can’t help what you love.
Comfort Reads
Whenever I’m feeling down I turn to literature for comfort. When my insomnia starts acting up I need a steady stream of familiar favourites. This month I have been re reading some of my most loved novels. Jane Austen is a go to, I love sinking into her world. I started the month with Persuasion & am finishing it off with Mansfield Park. You can’t beat a clever woman getting the happy ending she deserves. Also at the ready was Barbara Trapido. The Travelling Hornplayer holds a special place in my heart. I found it at a difficult time and it has brought me peace on every read. It even partly inspired one of my tattoos. Trapido weaves intricate stories with overlapping characters. A truly beautiful writer. Her only flaw being the focus on middle class/oxbridge set, but the storytelling is so good that I can forgive it. Finally, I sought refuge in Carrie Fisher. Fisher was the first writer whose words expressed my experience of mental illness. She was a genius; no one on the planet ever wrote like her. This month I choose Delusions of Grandma & Surrender the Pink, but I suspect I’ll be diving into her catalogue again in May.
What gets you through?
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Can you believe it? The sun has finally come out. It’s felt like winter has been with us forever. I am so glad to feel a bit of sun on my skin and perfectly timed for the school holidays.
With an adventure planned I was excited to finally wear this dress. I bought it from Vinted, but it was originally from a dreaded fast fashion brand. I wouldn’t buy directly, but I feel better about pre owned items being on my body rather than in landfill. This ode to Van Gogh is the perfect summer dress. It is so easy to wear, but looks fantastic. The pretty location and my sister’s photography skills definitely helped. I felt absolutely gorgeous.
I added a little sheer top as this dress is on the booby side. Since I was off to explore the beautiful park at Dumfries House with little ones I didn’t want to be worrying about cleavage overkill. We had a lot of fun in the maze and enjoyed our picnic in the sun. Yeah for frolicking in a pretty dress.
If you like what I do you can support me on Patreon.
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