Daddy Cool….

It’s Father’s Day & what better way to celebrate my lovely Dad than to take a trip down memory lane. 

My dad worked shifts when I was a kid. He’d do a twelve hour night shift & arrive home just as we (I have three siblings) were getting up for school. Instead of retiring directly to his bed he would make us breakfast. Cereal with bananas hidden in it. Mountains of toast or boiled eggs made three different ways to suit out picky tastes. The really special thing about it was he always did it with pleasure. He didn’t rush us or shirk our requests. He kept making that toast until we were satisfied & he made sure every banana slice was hidden in those rice crispies. Making your kids breakfast is a simple everyday  occurance, but when I look back at my childhood these small acts of love really matter. 

  

My sister & I sometimes call our father Daddy Cool. I think it started on a holiday in Mallorca & it stuck. It sums up so many aspects of him. From his little air guitar dance when he hears a tune he likes (which are often by edgy new bands) to his random fancies for designer clothing. The now famous ‘ porno’ moustache he sported my entire childhood also played into the nickname. Wether he’s sporting some Armani or hitting some cool new restuarant he is totally our Daddy Cool. 

  

My childhood is bursting with good memories of Dad. He used to pick us up from primary school & let us walk home through the park. While we galloped along he would be cheerfully carrying all our super girly school bags & paraphanelia. He frequently took us walks in pollok country park, allowing us to carry on & explore. He introduced me to The Burrel Collection  & highland cattle, both life long loves. Dad always had time for us to check out the Rangers station, or the ancient tree or a million other things. 

  

In Glasgow there’s an old tradition of people singing at parties. Right into my teenage years I remember family & friends always calling for dad to sing. I loved it when he did, he usually choose rather meloncholy songs. He sang them so clearly & with real feeling. I fell in love with John Lennon & Janis Joplin after hearing dad’s renditions of Jealous Guy & Bobby McGhee. 

My dad did all the things that storybook father’s are supposed to do. He taught me to ride a bike & to swim. He checked my homework, helped me fill out UCAS forms & grounded me when a boy gave me a nookie. Besides those things he has given me so much more. He gifted me the wonders of 60’s & 70’s music. Whilst my classmates were loving techno I was discovering Joni & Bob. Dad also played a big part in developing my political views. From asking him questions about the night’s news to talking over what I’d been learning in history. I’ve always respected his socialist values. Dad has been unceasingly present throughout my life; encouraging & advising. He has also been tolerant if bemused by some of things I’ve gotten up to. 

  
  

Now that I’m grown & some of my siblings have had children I have the joy of watching my fantastic dad become a wonderful Granda. He will hide under tables, bite balloons & get down on his knees to become a horse who gives rides. He’s exactly the kind of Granda every child wants. 

  
   

  

In conclusion, I love you dad. Thanks for raising me right. 
Happy Father’s Day. 

The time is now…

I’m lying on my bed with the sun streaming in my window having a lazy morning. I’m planning dinner in my head & pondering what colour to paint my nails, when it happens. A vivid flashback, of a day like this, but 16yrs ago. 

  
Like today I am resting on my bed observing the sunny world outside. Unlike today, back then I had a life growing inside me. I can smell the incense I used to burn in the flat & see the steeple of the church at the the end of the street. I feel the warmth on my face, the ache in my back & the love pounding through my veins. 

As fast as it strikes, it wanes. Part of me wants to cling to those sensations, the rest still finds these memories tender. I’ve been having these flashes a lot lately. They’re not new to me; I’ve been living with PTSD for a long time. This wasn’t a bad one, but it still leaves me feeling sadder than I did before. I’ve been thinking about why these bolts into the past have become so frequent of late & I think I know the answer.

For the first time in a very long time I am making baby plans. I have always wanted to be a Mummy. The loss only increased that desire. For years I’ve watched friends & family create beautiful little people. It’s never been the right time for me. Well, I’m 35 now and life never really gets any simpler. There is no right time. There will never be a perfect set of circumstances. So, the time is now. 

  
Or the time for planning is now. I’m getting my self and my life in shape for baba. It’s a little scary, but I don’t have any doubts. My life will never feel complete without children. It’s going to be a long campaign, but Operation Baby is go. 

You’re my cup of tea….

My last spring coaxing post may have worked. We had a lovely mild & bright weekend, which gave me an opportunity to wear a pretty dress. My little sister got engaged last week. Needless to say I am excited, as are both the mother of bride & groom. So, we all went out for afternoon tea & talked weddings. 

  
  

Dainty cakes & such a stunning venue called for a little effort. I whipped this beauty out of hibernation and launched operation pretty.

  

  

  

Dress – Lindy Bop

Belt – Asos Curve

Shoes – Irregular Choice

The cakes may have been delicate, but I am not. 

  
  
 

Mistletoe & wine….

Things are a tiny bit hectic at the moment. Honestly, it’s been one of those years. Anyway I find myself with two large house guests & no time for interesting outings or outfits. So, here is my obligatory Christmas jumper post. I wore this on a visit to my Dad’s on Xmas eve. I’m rather sad I’ll have to wait a year to get it out again. 

  
  
Jumper – Dorothy Perkins

Skirt – Forever21

Boots – Gift

I wanted a nice festive pic with my dear old Dad, but in classic ly style I have my eyes shut in every one. Dad looks good, though.

  

Oh & if you were wondering about those visitors, they snore, but they’re very cute.

   
 

My week in pictures….

It’s been a busy week. There’s been Xmas prep, nights out & some special birthdays. My perfect niece was 6yrs old on Sunday, which is hard to believe. Why do the little ones need to grow do fast? My little muffin will be leaving school & driving cars before I know. Also celebrating their big day was my bestest friend Pamela. I’ll not mention which birthday, but it was older 6. 

So, in lieu of a more in depth post I  thought I’d give you a wee look st my week in pictures. There have been cocktails, silly selfies, sparkly shoes, an ewok dog, sushi & other pretty things I snapped along the way. 

  

  
  
  
  

  

This week I have been mostly…

Feeling jolly. Yup, I’ve been rocking the Christmas tunes. In my continued quest for a joyuex noel I’ve been playing all the xmassy songs that give me the good feels. 

Ok, let’s get cheesy. Mariah is so not my style, but who doesn’t love her festive offering? I have been singing along & thinking about someone dreamy since my school days. Some of those objects of my affection make me blush to remember. The song, however, remains untarnished. 

You know, I’m not even entirely sure that Mull of Kintyre is a Christmas song, but I always play it at this time of year. Now, maybe it’s because I’m Scottish or perhaps it’s my soft spot for Paul, but it swells my heart. It’s a song that makes me think of home & family & love. I suppose that’s what Christmas means for me.

John Lennon’s Christmas isn’t your standard merry track. It does, however  have that ‘make you think’ quality. I think this tune was probably easier to love in my youth when accomplishments stacked up with ease. These days when I think about what I’ve done in the preceding 12 months I often worry I’ve come up wanting. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be Xmas with John & sadly his message remains salient. 

I have saved the best for last. Not the most original choice, but one that is dear to my heart. The Pogues & Kirsty McColl’s bittersweet tale of love in the big apple hits my spot. That chorus fills me with seasonal warmth & those lyrics, oh the lyrics.

‘ you took my dreams from me

when I first found you.

I kept them with me babe

I put them with my own 

can’t make it all alone

I’ve built my dreams around you.’

They’re almost enough to make me consider kissing Shane McGowan. 

It’s coming on Christmas….

I’m beginning to feel quite festive. Being the superwoman that I am, I finished buying gifts weeks ago. So, now it’s time to turn my attention on myself. Beware, I’m about to get all wanty.

When buying presents this year I wanted to select really personal items & I think I’ve done well. I thought I’d use the same theory on my self & sought out some quirky trinkets. 

  
Klimt bangle – TimeMachineJewelry (Etsy)

Scarf – River Island

Gimme Brow – Benefit

  
Sampler – YesStitchYes (Etsy)

Jumper – Dorothy Perkins

Number 11 by Jonathon Coe

Intergalactic Bath Bomb – Lush
  
Pendant – HomeStudio (Etsy)

Clutch – Forever21

Notebook – JournalLandCompany (Etsy)

Flower Crown – Asos
  
Candle – The Skye Candle Company

They’re Real – Benefit

Trapper Hat – Forever21

Chocolates – Not on the high street.
I’ve gone for a number of things inspired by creatives who make my heart sing. Flung in some winter warmers with a little glamour. Added a pinch of operation pretty tools & garnished with something to make me chuckle. 

What will you be asking Santa for?

My week in pictures… 

I’ve had a rather lovely week. It’s been filled with a beach, a birthday, some beer & a burning sky. So, I thought I’d share some of the photographs I’ve snapped along the way.

Autumn is absolutely my favourite season & an out of season beach is probably my favourite place to be. So, last Friday I combined two loves & embarked on a wee road trip with my sister (& her fur baby). I am so lucky to live in Glasgow as there is so much beautiful countryside so close by. Both my sis & I both enjoy finding new, slightly less obvious places to visit & Lauren came up trumps on this trip. We headed to Ayr, but bypassed the main beach in favour of Heads of Ayr. There we found a stunning deserted beach complete with a crumbling castle perched on a cliff. Like I said I prefer a beach outside of summer, they always feel more atmospheric with wilder weather. Aside from a little map reading bickering (my skills are poor) it was a gorgeous day. 

  

I opted for low key birthday celebrations this year. Mainly because I haven’t been terribly well, but also because I’m so bloody old. I’ll be honest the numbers are getting a little scarier every year. Having said that, the actual birthdays are always a delight. I kicked off my birthday with a family lunch. My family proved once again how much they know & love me by gifting exactly the right things. They even refrained from singing when my cake came out, which I appreciated. I followed up lunch with drinks & my favourite man. We enjoyed some delicious cherry beer & a stunning sunset. No birthday would be complete without a FaceTime with my niece, my incredible little muffin sang happy birthday & told me some very imaginative stories. Finally, my best friend rounded off my day with  another spot on present. I am a very lucky girl. 

  

I’ve also had some quiet little moments with my city & myself. Here’s a little insight into what keeps me ticking over. 

  
  
To cap things off I have received some really interesting writing offers that I can’t wait to sink my teeth into. I’ll keep you posted on where you can read the finished results. 

Listen…

I want to talk to you about something that isn’t often discussed. In a world where almost nothing is taboo miscarriage remains an uncomfortable topic. I know from personal experience that friends and family are often unsure how to approach such a loss. A misplaced belief that a mother’s (&her partner’s) privacy must be maintained or worry that bringing up the subject will cause distress can leave a grieving parent feeling isolated. I’d like to open up the subject, share my experience & hopefully change your thoughts on how best to support a friend who has suffered a miscarriage.

I cannot stress enough how important it is to acknowledge a person’s loss. Miscarriage feels like a death, you have lost a life that you created & have already given your heart to. Let your loved one feel that pain out in the open. Treat this grief as you would any other. Send flowers, a sympathy card, be available to listen. Acknowledge that the child who hasn’t made it into our world is real. To feel that those around you care for not only you, but your unborn child is a crucial part of the healing process.

There is no rule book for recovering from miscarriage. Some people need to throw themselves into work or a busy social schedule. Others may require time alone to process what has happened. There is no right way, listen to what your friend tells you they want & support them. Whether that is getting raucously drunk or cuddling them whilst they cry. There are so many complicated emotions attached to losing a child. I felt a crippling guilt. I know others who have felt rage & some people who accepted the loss as part of their path or an act of god. There is no correct way to feel. As irrational as these responses may seem to you, let your friend feel what they feel. Listen, reassure, but never judge. Each person knows what is appropriate for them, respect that.

Miscarriage is a life changing event. Conceiving again does not wipe out the loss. Your unborn baby can’t be replaced. For me a permanent memorial was necessary. Many people need to commemorate their baby. Be it tattoos, planting a tree or a gathering do not shy away from involvment in these acts of love. Allow you friend to carry their child with them.

Don’t assume that miscarriage is best kept secret. In the immediate aftermath & in the years that have followed, I have wanted to talk about my experiences with miscarriage. Sadly, I haven’t always felt that I was allowed to do so. My loss was treated as something that must remain private. Whilst I am sure this attitude was well meaning, it left me unable to express emotions that I felt suffocated by. If your friend, family member, colleague or even a stranger on a bus wants to talk about their miscarriage, please let them. You cannot imagine how freeing it is to let out the tumult of thoughts in your head. 

Miscarriage is not a rare occurrence. Many women will have to find their route through its consequences. This post is based on my personal experience & the consensus of the many women I have known who have had the misfortune to share that experience. Of course there will be parents who have differing views. I can’t speak for everyone. Ultimately you must trust that each indivdual knows what they need & follow their lead. However, I do hope that some what I have written has given you pause for thought. Moreover it’s my wish that my suggestions will ease this painful journey for others.