Dear Reader

Dear Reader, Today I saw one of my closest friends, I call her my sister because except for the whole, different parents, no blood relation thing, we're sisters. We grew up together, we wore matching outfits, we went on holidays together and we definitely fought like sisters. So here we are 20 something years later, sisters. We've got to that stage that I feel most sisters reach eventually where you stop arguing so much. I don't know when it happened or how it happened but we just stopped. We stopped annoying one another quite as much and embraced each others faults a little more. It's nice, you know, you suddenly become even closer than you were before. So one of my favourite things about my sister is her ability to forget things, it's fantastic and it makes me laugh so hard I cry sometimes. It's silly things like forgetting the names of objects or people and it makes her who she is, it's ruddy wonderful. I might love it a little more because I always ...

Dear Reader, I have been writing short stories for a few years now, I'll be honest, I have no idea where they're going or why I bother but I've always enjoyed it and when it comes down to it, do we really need a reason? I wouldn't dare say out loud that they're worth publishing, but those of you who write will know that we dream in that silver lined cloud where someone finds our work and just has to make it into a book. How bloody terrific would that be?!  Anywho, I love writing and I wrote a particularly short short-story (I wear short shorts), the other day after remembering a comment I had seen on a post that said "Write a horror story in less than 10 words" or something of that ilk, so I took the one I liked and expanded on it a little...and it became this... Bless You  by  Suzie Peckham Steve was working late again. He could almost put money on it. Once, sometimes twice (those weeks were the worst), someone would be wheeled in at 5.5...

Dear Reader, One thing I really love about us girls (men you might want to head off and read a Top Gear magazine or something of that ilk for this one) is the unity we have at a certain ‘time of the month’. Our periods are fucking annoying , let us be honest. Often they’re a blessing, some times a curse but always a pain, not in the arse, in the uterus. There is a special kind of crappiness reserved for the way we women feel once a month. Do you know what makes me feel a little better about it?... (Whilst I sit here in my pyjamas, a stabbing pain in my lower stomach as the cramps roll their way around my womanly organs) …There are 3 billion human beings on this planet who understand exactly how I feel. How often can you say that about something? That there are that many women who understand the feeling of being stabbed, REPEATLY , in the stomach with the worlds largest invisible butchers knife. Our periods do not define us, they do not make us women, what makes us wo...

Dear Reader, Grandparents are such wonderful things, of which I don’t truly believe we appreciate until they aren’t sitting in their chair by the fire anymore. I loved my grandparents, as we all do, as a child. They were the people that gave big snuggly cuddles, spent lots of money on you and fed you until you were about to pop. Those are the things you loved and those are the things you remember. But the things I believe we truly miss when they’re gone are the bits you don’t really remember. One of my grandfathers was in the Navy and he used to tell these really long winded, possibly slightly embroidered stories. It was very Uncle Albert-esque and at the time, I wasn’t particularly bothered, I would listen and be polite but I can’t remember any of them now. I laugh and make jokes about how long and silly his stories were but in my heart I miss them with a deep sadness. I wish he were here to tell his tales to me now that I can appreciate and understand them, so I can write ...

Dear Reader, Yesterday I found myself looking up at the building that my mother used to live in with her parents and brother. I stood, my eyes drinking in the old red bricks, the huge windows and the stairs which I could see through the window in the front door. I had heard about this stairs from stories from my mother. My grandfather was a butcher, the building was his shop Read & Co. and the stairs lead up to the house. At Christmas, when overrun with orders they would have to stack the turkeys up the stairs with little name tags on them. When the customer arrived to pick up their turkey my mother and her brother would have to run up and down the stairs trying to find the right customers name on tens of turkeys. The thought of it always made me laugh. I wasn't sure what I was meant to feel, I had never been there with my mother and had only heard about 'Chapel Street' through stories. Suddenly I was here, standing in front of the window she used to look out of, ...

Dear Reader, I wasn't planning on writing a blog today but I've been at work and felt enamoured to write about brands that I love that are doing their bit for the world and the people in it. So my company is running an event next month called The Healthy Living Show, our website is www.healthy-living-show.com if you felt so inclined. So basically we're bringing healthy food, drinks, products together and inviting the public to come and buy their products. It's a mixture of foods, clothing, make up, fitness, eco products, charities and many more but the main point is about living a healthy life. Be that vegan, vegetarian, paleo, organic or just being eco-friendly; I call it happy healthy living. Anywho, back to my point...I'm an avid tangent goer offer, the key is to remember the point that you were attempting to make. Chances of which are vastly improved by the fact I'm writing all this down. As I was saying, back to my point, today I found a brand that ...