London living

After hanging out in London for 2 weeks I have come to the conclusion that Londoners settle for less. Each of my many friends there is undoubtedly happy and fulfilled, but they seem to be content with so much less than the non-Londoner would expect. After a battle to get onto the tube, a squished, uncomfortable journey, general rudeness from people on all sides, a day sitting at a desk, and endless traffic noise, Londoners return to a flat which is a bit smaller, a bit nastier, a bit harder to get to and at least three times the price of anything you'd pay for elsewhere. I just cannot get over the prices! Extortionate travel costs to visit friends in hard-to-reach places, extortionate drinks prices to relieve the boredom of a London day at work, and extortionate dinner prices, so you can be reassured that there's a reason why you earn loads of money... Londoners splash their cash at every opportunity. I am not convinced. If possible, I'd love to stay in walk-around Bristol, where the pints and the houses are affordable. Londoners may make me feel poor, what with their whopping salaries, gym memberships and clothes by designers I've never heard of, but after a little taste of London living, my return to Bristol makes me feel rich and indulged. I'm so happy to be back!

Racing ducks and flat frogs

A weekend in Deerpark Forest, North Cornwall, to celebrate Grampy's 60th. I had pictured leisurely rambles, kids tucked up in bed and long nights of reading books and playing scrabble... I hadn't banked on living one of the most tiring weekends of 2010 so far! Throw in a two-year-old, a one-year-old and a 4 monther, 4 sisters, two brothers-in-law, Nana and Grampy, a three course meal, surprise party, three cakes to decorate, countless presents to unwrap, a rubber duck race and torrential rain... My book did not see the light of day!
But a lot of fun was had, introducing 'Baby Ella' to her cousins, blowing bubbles, popping balloons, flat frog spotting and almost losing children to mud. I have a very funny, noisy, caring family, who could not be loved by, or love Grampy more. What better way to show this, than with a cake decorating competition, in which, I am happy to say, Nana did not win with her 'F***ing Nutter' cake! No complaints from 2-year-old Vinny though, who devoured it the minute the candles were blown out! Cake, chocolate and bubbles galore. Happy Birthday Grampy (you F***ing Nutter!)!