Goodbye 2019

And so we put 2019 to bed....

Last night we played musical beds. (Standard in CM house). Husband has the worst cold ever and my daughter is also getting over a cough so we quarantined them to our room. My Mum in the guest room. My son in his cabin bed. I slept in my 9 year old's bedroom and I lay there and gazed at her spanking new desk, her football trophies, her abundance of stuffed animals and I wished so hard that life could stay this sweet. Soon this will all go and be replaced with cool teenage stuff and I will forever mourn her simple, colourful, 'optimistic outlook' (yes that this what the colour is called - it is VERY optimistic and aqua) painted room.

More than ever I try and hold time. Grateful for every day here. How can we be seeing in 2020? I mean, isn't it like 2003 or something? I CAN'T be THAT OLD. So as I say goodbye to 2019 as usual I wanted to mull over the year - what I have learnt, what I have lost, what I have loved, what I have achieved. Because isn't that the point of the end of year interminable days between Xmas and New years - to look back and then wipe that slate clean; new year, new you and all that jazz?

So how was it? I'm not gonna lie - February was brutal. I have never known a more painful time. I've used the trios we do at college as therapy to overcome the after affects and I'm emerging stronger now, if somewhat bruised. When someone your age dies, it feels like the world has got the order wrong. How can someone so young, so full of life, suddenly be gone? Death leaves behind unanswered questions, unspoken ties broken and yet we must pick up the pieces and move on. At college I was told a phrase: 'We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, a new found love, or a broken heart away from becoming a completely different person. How beautifully fragile are we, that so many things can take but a moment to alter who we are forever.'

Ok, I'll get more cheery. Bear with me. Then came house refurb and I GROSSLY underestimated how much head space that took up. Having been dicked around about work - I found I had time on my hands and looking back - I am SO grateful I had it. My 'house ideas' book looked like the one the killer scribbles all over in Se7en. Insane amount of planning and choosing and oh my god, I LIVED on eBay. I have never known such a thrill - sourcing items from all over the place. Cinema chairs from here, old cabinet to put the sink on from there, old puffer fish light fitting from a miserable woman in Surrey. Days went by in a flash, finding ovens, taps, fridges etc. We only moved out for a mere 3.5 weeks and when we returned, upstairs had been completely gutted and everywhere was filled with rubble and dust. I couldn't breathe; I hated walking over the uneven floors and I dreamt of carpet on a nightly basis. Somehow, when we painted the WHOLE house ourselves (4 coats baby!) it started to come together. People kept saying how I must be loving it - when all I could think was - this is HELL. Until the floors came and then carpet and finally the kitchen doors were made and in and suddenly, it was done. I sat back and loved my home. All that sweat and OCD fixation on detail was worth it. I cried when my builders left - because I missed them. Paul, Gary, James, Darryl and Jack were the highlights of my year. Gary - a carpenter genius, helped me solve every problem and had the best design ideas I could have dreamt of. James and I chatted Love Island every day. Darryl asked me: 'any jobs you need doing?' Heaven. If you want details: Paul Hobbs builders. THE BEST.

Then summer was over and yet my outdoor swimming continued - albeit without my wetsuit.  ( Due to a mere 15 litres of paint spilling in our car - thanks Selco - and all over said wetsuit). It was easily the best bit of my year. Total bliss. I have never known such joy as getting into 6 degree water. The water stings, my shoulders ache, my feet are blocks of ice and then... its wonderful. Afterwards, my body feels like it has been through an epidural and I can't feel my feet for about 2 hours, but it is honestly worth it. On reflection this year has really been about embracing difficulties until out of the blue, they become inexplicably wonderful. Thank you Katy for being my swim partner in crime - the sight of you in a bobble hat swimming towards swans shouting FUCKKKKKKKKKKK - This is NOT EVEN FUNNY - still makes me smile.

My son became a teenager and I attended a 50th the same weekend. To combat the feeling of being wildly over the hill, I bonded with the Uni students serving drinks and discussed their love lives - me being all down with the kids and that. Until their free-pouring meant the only thing I was down with, was falling into a privet hedge and flailing like a beetle until I was rescued and poured into a cab by my tolerant husband.

I found that the best pleasure in life is a dog walk. So, after promising our daughter we would get a dog: 'when we move house; when we get planning; after the refurb is done;' we have run out of excuses and our first purchase of 2020 will be a fox red lab.... Stay tuned for the woman who has never had a dog - surviving puppy school....

College: just a joy. We studied all the theories of counselling and I got to learn what a total feck-up I am... before you laugh - er, so are you. We all are. That's what makes people fascinating. I learned why I behave as I do; why it is ok to let people go from your life if they are not supportive and true friends; what narcissists really are; Freud's theories; attachment theories; transactional analysis; Drivers (mine: being perfect); CBT and NATs; Carl Rogers' theories; Erikson's life stages and the triangle of insight. I love love love it. Not so much the studying, but the privilege of hearing other people's stories and working out why they behave as they do. The best thing about my course is that not only do you have to do the work - essays, presentations etc - but you have to do the work ON YOU. I leave class every week thinking 'how am I fucking up my children on a daily basis?' In one journal I wrote about conquering my OCD then realised I had spent the morning tidying the house rom top to bottom before writing. As I said, I'm a work in progress...

What else? Oh yes, I learnt to say NO. I'll never work again for producers that treat you like a dancing monkey. If you screw up and send a writer the wrong story, and they spend their entire half term neglecting their kids to write a new version - only for it to be a total waste of time as it is the wrong version - then admit your mistake! I'm not prepared any more to spend my days going in circles; being treated badly and for it to be seen as acceptable. There is something very 'bad boyfriend I can't quit' about various aspects of writing - and frankly, I'd rather stack shelves at Waitrose than have to put up with it. I may end up poor, but I'll be emotionally richer and for me, that's more important. But the projects planned in 2020 are my most favourite-is yet so here's hoping they go well.

So as I move into this new decade, I think my new mantra is about simplicity. Getting outdoors and into cold water. Eating well and getting sleep. Caring about the planet and about each other. Yes, I am a becoming a bloody hippy... But truly, a little kindness goes a long way. So my aim for this decade, is just to be here as we approach the next one. (DV).

To those that still dip in here to CM - I send love and thanks. I wish you all peace, health and happiness in 2020. Make it count. Keep her lit!

Love CM xx

The Alternative (cheaper) Gift Guide

So it's here. My mucker Jason Yarrow has called it - and we are in Christmas  2019 build up. It's unavoidable: the John Lewis advert, the school Xmas fair, Waitrose shelves threatening to topple with the sheer weight of Panattones...  Call me Scrooge if you must - but the whole enforced festivities have me running to the hills. As if the end of year wasn't stressful enough, without all this mad consumerism and sudden rush to see EVERYONE YOU HAVE EVER KNOWN because dear god if you don't, you may Cinders like, disappear by the stroke of NYE midnight...

As an aside, I ended up accidently in Westfield the other week - don't ask, but it involved taking my Mum to see Loose Women. (Bonus - I did see Gareth Thomas speak and he is simply a hero - anyway, I digress). It was horrific - everything wrong in the world in one giant throbbing over-lit overpriced nightmare. I'd rather have a smear test every day for the rest of my life than enter it again...

So, with all this bah humbugness, what gifts do I suggest dear reader?

Firstly, I'll admit - I do love a good gift guide. The Spike is a goody (and not extortionate) and I also love to check in to Goopy Gwyneth's because - shock - I do think she has a sense of humour -  suggesting a trip to space, a joint roller and a brass fire extinguisher all on the same page. But in all this gift giving malarky - have we lost sight of what Xmas is all about? A friend who came for dinner on Friday said 'aren't you tired of stuff?' I couldn't agree more...

This year I had to pack up my entire house, shove it into a non-water tight shed and one room while the rest was demolished/gutted/refurbed. It gave me that wonderful opportunity of a massive clear out and frankly it was thrilling.  I did a LOT of Marie Kondo-ing: 'does this bring me joy?' Bad bits: how on earth did I ever fit into my wedding dress?? (The skirt had gone mouldy, out it went. Corset - made clearly for a tiny fairy - stayed). Good bits: I found cards from my recently deceased step-sister that made me weep....  Anyway, it made me see how much we accumulate and how much we really need. I spent '95-'96 travelling the world with a backpack and it proved to me how we can survive with so much less than we think we need. Buddhist monks are allowed just 8 items and I think they have a point. Have a clear out, donate items to charity instead of putting them all on Ebay. When someone finds that bizarre hand-mirror with lights that show up spots coming a month from now or that kite you never got round to using but have had since you were 8, you will make their day...

So what can you give at Xmas? Well for one thing - your time. Who wouldn't want someone to offer to babysit their kids/ clean their car/ cook a meal/ house sit/ walk the dog? Or sign up to help the homeless this Xmas - Crisis are always looking for volunteers, or you can donate. I know someone who does this every single Christmas and she told me it can change a person's life completely, to just be treated with respect and comfort at such a vulnerable time of the year.

One of the most beautiful Xmas gifts I ever was given was a white box, with pretty cloth red ribbon containing home-made meringues. Now sadly I cannot bake (here are some ideas if you can) - but anything home-made is a winner this Xmas. I plan to make a wreath with my daughter, using foliage in the garden and then give it to my dear neighbour.  Here is a wreath making guide - it is honestly simple. You can get the base on ebay for a mere £3, some twine £2 and then get thee to a forest, Chop some ferns and holly and maybe get the odd ribbon or pine cone and you are away!

Another idea is to get a photo framed that means something to the person you love. One year I gave my Mum a framed pic of her with my then one year old son and she wept. All our best moments seem to be stored on a phone or some USB stick. Get them out - remember a moment. Live it all again.

Ok a favourite of mine - BOOKS. Don't even think about going into a bookshop unless it is an independent like the gorgeous one in West Hampstead. You can always pop into an Oxfam bookshop and buy some gems - giving to charity at the same time. I have never, ever been upset to get a book, no matter old, new dogeared, doodled upon. I won't try to suggest any because we all have different tastes - but an old favourite of mine is : She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb. I also love a book called  'Surviving Survival' about the human spirit and what we can endure, when we have survived the worst that can be thrown at us... Every year an old school chum of mine Gareth reads A Christmas Carol. Inspired by him, I read it on Sunday. If it doesn't have you feeling festive - I don't know what will. Buy an old copy of it, add a bottle of wine/port and who won't love that as a gift?

Socks. I know I know, not the most exciting - but our washing machine eats the feckers, so we are always desperate for them. I also love to skulk around working from home in these beauties - cheap as chips - from Decathalon.

There is a not a woman alive that I know, that hates getting a candle. These from Jo Malone are spenny but support charities.  (Look on google for more charity candles... there are tonnes).

Talking of charities, Choose Love is solely to help Refugees - so buying from them, you really are buying someone hot food, basic sanitary goods or even a tent to shelter in. Well worth supporting... It's a difficult time of year to know which charity to support - we all have lost someone to cancer, we all see the homeless on the short walk from Euston to Kings Cross, we all watch the adverts where children are dying because they have no fresh water to drink. Ask someone to donate to one, instead of gifting you something you don't need. Do you really need another perfume/pair of shoes/dodgy blusher?

On to lighter subjects -  I googled 'cheap gifts' and this came up. Lord.

You may wonder what I'm asking for this xmas - a pair of gloves. That's it. Gloves that mean I can get into 7 degree water every Saturday without feeling like my hands have been cut off. Of course I'd love a Dry Robe - but they are pricey...  And it feels against my rule of: NO MORE STUFF. But it is like a big blanket and when you swim in icy waters it is SO BRRRRRRRRRRRR. Step away CM - Xmas isn't about YOU.

For me, Xmas is about food, family and fun. With that in mind, I bring you the tasty treats that any living soul would appreciate at Xmas:

1. M and S shortbread. It is a fiver folks and it is is HEAVEN. Heaven I tell you. I've already chomped through one and have hidden one at the back of the tall cupboard. If anyone in my family sniffs it before Xmas I will murder them.

2.  I LOVE these hibiscus flowers. Under a tenner and make all festive fizz fabulous. Just drop one in and watch it flower...

3. How can you not love Lindor?  Call me a basic bitch if you will, but who is laughing as they chomp down on those on Xmas morning? Or a toblerone. Always a toblerone.

4. Get thee to Aldi and get these beauties: THE best cracker ever. You can thank me on Boxing Day.  While I'm on Aldi - their London Gin, according to my husband, who knows his shit about liquor - is as good as Tanquery he reckons and a mere £14.

5. Let me say it here - 2020 is the year of the Toastie. My kids love my old Breville Daisy toaster - not sure you can still buy it... But there is a Breville here for £21... A toastie solves all hangovers. Or, if everyone is starving and you cannot be arsed to cook - a toastie. Seriously. Get amongst it.

6. Cheese. The best bit of Xmas, I find, is the cheeseboard. Just as you feel ruined by a dinner and worried that you will spend the rest of your life python like, unable to digest the bugger, out comes the cheese board. Suddenly you jump up, ready for all the festive 'games' and eating like you have never seen food. No cheeseboard is complete without Comte, an overripe Brie, Goats (Chèvre Blanc), an Epoisse, Blue stilton, Manchego, Morbier and Wensleydale with cranberries... You will need some decent crackers (YES to digestives in case you were wondering) and quince. And a shed load of gaviscon no doubt...

7. Finally booze. No Xmas should be without it, unless you abstain. In which case I salute you. It takes the edge off all that 'family bonding time' with people you avoid all year. I myself see it as an excuse to indulge in an old fashioned, (my fav drink) and so for me, you can't go wrong with a bottle of Woodforde bourbon. Husband always gets this for me, then drinks most of it  - so I am certain he owes me one already from last year.  Aldi do a fabulous Prosecco - if you don't believe me here is one review - and I have read more... Eco friendly to boot.  Port is a must. I think this is an epically good one.  Or M and S do a half decent one and it is always on offer (at least every time I go in I get offered a thimble full - which is a winter warmer I always appreciate). I always think a festive tipple is in store, if like me you are hosting a few for drinks on Xmas morning...  I am debating expresso martinis (yum) or fizz with any of these . Here are some suggestions to mull on...

So that's it. If you don't have the time to make stuff - I've been there (full time job at Enders, 2 small kids and 13 Babble articles to write meant I didn't have time to pee back in the day) - then gifts I also think are fabulous are - fire lighters, that little thing that snuffs out candles, (did I mention candles?) any kind of mitten and a jaunty scarf. Something colourful from Zara costing no more than £20.  Like this . Or Ordinary products - they are CHEAP and AMAZING. I need a whole blog post to discuss the wonders of 'Buffet' alone.  Try them. Takes years off. (Not that I think we need to all look younger - kick that bloody idea to touch for a start. But we do all appreciate help after a big night, no?).

I'll be back with my end of 2019 round up - excited for 2020. Jaysus. It was a mere second ago I was at my dear friend Caroline's on millennium eve, so drunk I ended up walking into her Dad's bedroom in confusion (so many times he used a bicycle to barricade the door). So you filthy animals, have a great #Buildup19 and if in doubt - keep it simple. People love you for who you are, not what you give. Not the size of your house, not the amount of money you spend on a party, but for the joy only you can bring.

Seasons greetings. CM x

House refurb part 1: The joys of a shower...

I'm not a morning person. Never have been, never will be. Best not to speak to me until I've had a shower and a cup of builders. Then, only then, am I vaguely human. When my buddy Est and I travelled the world, our flatmate Katy in New Zealand refused to wake me - she said I was so scary in the mornings. Monstrous is how she described me and I think she was being kind. Now when I wake my 8 year old Sproglette, and she groans and turns away,  spitting venom about having to get up - I realise I have passed on the 'hating mornings gene.'

Anyway,  when we bought our crumbling cottage back in 2017, I knew that we wouldn't have a shower.  How bad could it be I reasoned? I mean, a bath is lovely - right? Well of course it is... but every day? A bath doesn't give you the same jolt into wakefulness that a shower does. It doesn't make you feel fresh, alive, ready for the day. Baths are for sinking into on an evening; leisurely soaking troubles away - the exact opposite of how one is feeling when they are rushing to get out the door in the morning, with everyone wearing matching shoes and hopefully still speaking...

Why else did I not love our bathroom? Well it was old lady bathroom. You couldn't swing a cat in it. Don't believe me? Here you go. Photo exhibit number 1. The bathroom as pictured when we first viewed the house:

Inviting isn't it with that 30 year old floor? I thought: well, how long can it take to get planning permission? Turns rather a long time... We first saw the house in October 2016, moved in October 2017 and got planning...... February 2019..... That is a LOT of baths. Husband couldn't really fit in it so took to going to the gym... 

Then this was it the day we moved out (for a mere 3 and a half weeks while the builders gutted the house upstairs - leaving only one remaining wall) - 

Gorgeous isn't it? So I fantasised about a shower for a LONG time. Every time I had to go away with work or stay at friends' houses, I stood in the shower and just thought - this is SUCH a lovely thing, having hot water pour on you. It's energising, calming and comforting all at once. Rinsing your hair without using a crappy leaking shower hose felt divine. It also made me think A LOT about the kind of bathroom I wanted: the vibe was kind of New York bathroom, but without all the chinz. I wanted it to feel clean, relaxing, inviting. I also had a limited budget - because it turns out that refurbishing your ENTIRE house, well it aint cheap. So I embraced that limited budget - I positively thrived on it - by spending my days scouring eBay and being inspired by all things Pinterest.  I found a teak unit I loved, picked it up and bought new legs for it. I sourced taps from here, shower from there... So here we go (with hind site I maybe should have used some fancy filter or given the place a deep clean first - but I'm not a fancy lifestyle blogger, so here it is, as is):

Dull bit: Unit is vintage (Ebay), Radiator (brand new, again Ebay), oyster candles (a gift). Spider plant called Darryl (after one of my builders) is from Woods, and my prints by Lu West. Mirror (Ebay again) and lamp lights (Lampsy). Plant pot from Home Sense, Shower from Rubber Duck bathrooms,  Toilet and shower doors and tray from Drench (but I would advise caution using Drench - they take FOREVER and never let you know when there are going to be delays...). Wall mounted taps from a local bathroom store but you can get here. Tiles: Chiltern Tiles who were MILES cheaper than Topps tiles etc and knew exactly what I wanted. I actually can't remember where I got the sink but think again - eBay. My life really has been on eBay. I WISH there was a job sourcing stuff for folk because I am a genius at it these days... 

Every day I get in this shower and think - I am SO grateful to have a shower... I think it is ALMOST making me appreciate mornings again, but not quite...

Finally on the subject of bathrooms... I wanted my guests to have an ensuite. (I don't want one myself - husband has an aversion to anything toilet related so refused one point blank. As he was happy for me to choose everything pretty much in the house, I agreed to this one small point). So for the guests I went for fun. And what says fun more than a feck tonne of foxes?? Also my daughter has a fox toy called er... Foxy - that she loves. We get foxes in the garden and well, I kinda like the cheeky scamps. So I threw in a darker colour for the panelling - (love me a bit of panelling and stiffkey blue) and some rope accessories - and voila! The only gutting thing is the shower in the guest ensuite is actually better than ours... So, what are you waiting for - come visit! 

And I can guarantee a life size parrot in your bedroom. Meet Gary (named after my lovely builder who is frankly a god):

Because every house needs a parrot is what I say....  Do pop in....

CM XX

Scrap that, Blood is thicker than water...

My children have no blood relative cousins. My husband has a brother in Australia who has no children and I am an only child, meaning my kids are cousin-less. Having grown up knowing the wonderful relationship you can have with your family members of similar ages, having the best of best cousins myself,  I have always wanted the same experience for my kids. I was delighted therefore to create that dynamic with people - who maybe felt for the fact I am an only, or cherished the relationship they had with me - so my kids were not really aware what a 'blood relative' or 'real cousin' even was. They had them. Simple as that.

But there will always be that person - who will tell them, who will remind them, that the relationship is false: like Santa or the tooth fairy - something great to believe in, but not strictly a truth. This year, more than any other has taught me one thing: no matter what you believe you have created, nurtured, cared for and invested in - others will not. That when the chips are down, one thing matters only: are you blood?

I've never seen life this way. Raised every weekend by my Mum's ex-boyfriend (whom I lived with from the age of 11 until I finished Uni) - I decided pretty damn early in life that family could be chosen. That being an only kid, who never felt she was her parents' priority - it was ok, because I could carve out family when it wasn't really there. Never living with my Dad, not having the classic 2.4 and all the trimmings - well, who cares, when you can throw your love at others and make it stick. Breathe life into the word family - in whole other areas, to find that love you are so desperate for.

And up until this year, I would have said, I did a damn good job of it.  But suddenly - in a single moment, standing in the queue at an airport - I realised that my construct of family - well, it was potentially all in my head. Perhaps how I saw a relationship - was in fact only in my imagination. I scrolled through texts and whats apps and our whole history to work out if I had in fact gone mad.... A friend described the effect on me as 'gaslighting.' To say it knocked me for six is an understatement.

Since then I have pondered on what I mean to others and also, what do they mean to me? Being an only kid I have never had a sibling to rely on, someone to charge ahead, forge the pathway for me. Someone to look up to, or to guide. Perhaps my love of company (husband says I am 'energised' by seeing people, whereas he is drained) is based on the fact that as an only child of divorced busy parents - I was often alone. The bonus of this, is I have never struggled to make friends and find it easy to engage with others. So for me, friendship, well, it is family. I choose friends sparingly and once I'm in - I'm there 100%. Thus the majority of my mates I have known 20/30 plus years...

And yet, if anything were to happen to me, I can imagine people turning to my soul mate buddies and thinking 'oh you just lost a friend... big deal.' It isn't like losing a blood relative.... Because we seem to measure love, commitment and importance on that simple fact - being related. Yet, my life is littered with people who mean the absolute world to me - who I literally would do anything for and who have supported me through thick and thin - and they aren't blood. I sent This article by Elizabeth Day to several friends because it was a love letter to friendship - the most underrated and unsung of loves of our life.

This year I lost someone dear to me. She introduced me to Prince on her weekly mix tapes...Taught me how to dress at a time when I thought long kilts and polo necks were cool.  We used to sit on the doorstep in our PJs and play albums loudly during the long summer holidays. She was the first person to get me drunk. (I still can't even smell Martini Bianco without wanting to wretch).  We would sit up late watching scary movies trying (and failing) to recreate McDonald's thickshakes. She showed me The Exorcist and I duly vommed. (Regan had nothing on me). We had each others' backs during the dark teenage years... covering for one another and sympathising when we fought with our respective mothers... Her daughter was flower girl at my wedding, sat in between my new husband and I through the reception. I flew home to celebrate her daughter's 2nd birthday. She wrote my children birthday cards from 'cousins X Y and Z.'  I knew her for 35 years, lived with her on weekends for almost 10 and yet I had members of my own family who never once said: 'I'm sorry for your loss.' I guess because she and I weren't related... we weren't blood. So my grief, it seems isn't valid.

Perhaps a less sensitive person would take this on the chin. But I am not that person. My friend H wisely said: "you have to ask yourself why this matters so much to you." My answer: I am the girl with 3 sets of keys and 3 homes as a teen. I am the girl who sought out family... I am the one who never believed that blood was thicker than water.  I am that lonely only. So whilst I thought that by 45 I had managed to contain all my demons -  suddenly they have come flying out of the woodwork.... A pandora's box opened, the contents mocking me and all I believed in. All I thought I knew. All I guess I had hoped for.

So this much I know is true: blood will always be seen as thicker than water. No matter how much you want it to be different.