I know that it’s part of your job description if you work in PR to be as annoying and over friendly as possible, and mostly I am tolerant of this, but today I just couldn’t be doing with it. Seriously, if you send me an email today that begins ‘Hello lovely!’ please don’t expect me to respond with anything other than a punch to the face.
The email that sent me over the edge this morning went like this:
I hope all is well with you! I’m already one flat white down this morning. Might go for a second coffee but I fear the jitters!
I wanted to share a lovely bit o’ content with you from the weekend…”
Ha ha! Coffee jokes! Now we are best chums right? Oh no, hang on, we’re not, because I don’t know who you are and you haven’t even used my name.
And ‘a lovely bit o’ content’?? What even is that??
I literally had no words, so as a reply I just sent this:
Regular readers will know that this is the third year now that I’ve been involved in the Tesco Mum of the Year Awards.
Every year it is an absolute joy to follow the journeys of the inspirational women who are doing remarkable things to improve the lives of others. It’s a bit of an annual wake up call for me; a reminder that there is a lot more to life than posting funny pictures on Twitter and complaining about ridiculous things like having to walk all the way upstairs to get my phone charger.
The shortlist for the Tesco Mum of the Year Awards has been announced this week – 26 incredible women chosen from literally thousands, 26 women who have made a difference to their communities.
To mark the fact that 2015 is the 10th anniversary of the awards, Tesco is donating £1,000 to a charity of each shortlisted mum’s choice. Since the Awards began in 2006, Tesco has helped over 80 mums raise the profiles of their charities and causes.
I will be following the awards and am already looking forward to the winners being announced early next year. In the meantime I’m going to try and think of these women the next time I leave my phone charge upstairs.
Disclosure: I am a blogger ambassador for the Tesco Mum of the Year Awards.
This review is from my very favourite 19 year old daughter Bee.
I recently received the new Hudl 2 to review.
“What is a Hudl 2?!”, you’re all thinking, “is it something to do with penguins? Or rugby? Big, burly rugby playing penguins?”
The Hudl 2 is actually the brand new tablet bought to you by the makers of my favourite thing, Pink Doughnuts…
I was obviously not that enthusiastic about it when I originally accepted the offer because it isn’t a tablet made by one of those big tablet making companies so I assumed it would be a bit lame. The information said it was £129 and was great for families with kids, so it sounded like the sort of thing that would keep kids entertained and let frazzled mothers do their online grocery shopping with the touch of a button, but that would be about it. Read more
I’m trying hard but I can’t think of a time when I had an accident that wasn’t my fault.
When I first moved to Bristol I had a car accident where I managed to write off three cars, including one parked on an Avis forecourt, but that definitely was my fault. I wasn’t really having a very good day and I sort of forgot that I was driving around a dual carriageway/one way system. Still, on the plus side, I did help Belle tick off one of the things on her bucket list that day.
“I always wanted to be in a car accident,” she told me, “but I always imagined it would be the last thing I’d tick off because I’d be dead.”
I was pleased then to have been able to involve her in a non-fatal car accident. A proud parenting moment indeed.
I mean I went – I have a degree and everything – it’s just that I didn’t go in the sense of moving into halls, staying up all night playing drinking games, sleeping all day and generally dossing about eating pizza. (That’s what students do right?). I lived in a little house with my toddler, Bee, drove in for lectures and went to bed at a sensible time. Drinking games with a two year old are generally frowned upon.
Said toddler is now in her second year at university and has gone in the proper sense. She lives in halls near Waterloo, with a lovely view of the London skyline, and I’m sure eats less fresh fruit than she should. She is doing an amazing job of living on her own in a big city and is working really hard on her course too – I am full of pride and admiration for her. Well done Bee.
Not having had the full student experience myself then, I turned to Bee’s instagram feed for some inspiration to help me come up with some top tips for students. Here’s what I picked up:
Make the most of wherever you are
The temptation I’m sure is to spend as much time as possible asleep or in a Wetherspoon’s but don’t! Any decent university city is going to have a lot to offer culturally and you may very well look back in ten or twenty years time and wish you’d made more of the opportunities on your doorstep.
I remember one particularly ill-prepared Halloween; I had forgotten completely that it was October 31st and the house was definitely not well-stocked with suitably spooky sweet treats. Blissfully unaware of the ghouls that would be waiting for me, I happily opened the door when the doorbell rung.
Fortunately it was one of those groups of pre-teens who see Halloween as an excuse to wear a black coat and hassle vulnerable people for sweets rather than a collection of adorable five year old witches, so I didn’t feel so bad when I came back from my rummaging in the kitchen with a handful of apples. They did not look like the sort of children who considered fruit a ‘treat’.
Still, at least I made the effort to give them something. According to a recent survey from Webloyalty, over half of you aren’t going to even open the door. Worse than that, there are a small proportion of people who will actually open the door, get their visitors’ hopes up and then crossly send them away! Shame on you.
Alongside their extensive research into the nation’s Halloween plans, Webloyalty has produced this fun animation highlighting some of the most interesting findings.
I’d love to know what your plans are for Halloween. Will you be thoughtfully carving a pumpkin and fashioning yourself a hand-crafted costume or will you be of the 50+% of people closing the curtains tight and pretending not to be home?
This year I’ve decided I’m definitely going to be better prepared. I’ve bought apples and bananas.
Don’t forget – you still have until Monday to enter Webloyalty’s quick competition to win £50 to spend on Halloween fancy dress so go and enter now!
There are a lot of things that I’ve inherited from my mother. These include:
A low threshold for boredom
A tendency to eat too much butter and cheese
A habit of putting ‘My Friend’ before people’s names when talking about them to other people, even though the person I am talking to knows them well. E.g ‘I went out my My Friend Andrea at the weekend’.
Aside from all of these charming attributes, I have also been blessed with the ability to whip up a delicious roast dinner. You can’t beat a roast can you? Mountains of vegetables, (ideally covered in a cheese sauce – see point three above), bread sauce, gravy, a big glass of wine; I am salivating as a type.
If you feel in anyway as passionately about roast dinners as I do then this competition is for you. It’s brought to you by a Northern Irish company called Mash Direct. Mash Direct grows delicious vegetables and gently steam cooks them immediately after harvesting to ensure unrivalled freshness of flavour as well as texture, whilst retaining their natural nutritional benefits. They are gluten-free and free from artificial flavourings, preservatives and colourings so a great brand to introduce to children to help ensure they eat their veg! Read more
I love a curry. Poppadoms, naan, that minty dip thing that I never know the name of that you always get in a tiny pot when you order takeaway – I love it all. As it’s National Curry Week then it would be positively remiss of me not to whip up a delicious spicy feast.
Fortunately, I recently discovered The Spice Tailor curry sauces, so rather than having to spend ages grinding things in a mortar and pestle or trekking to a specialist supermarket for spices I can have a chicken tikka masala ready in about 15 minutes – a proper one that doesn’t taste like it’s full of sugar and just came out of a jar. Read more
Fancy the idea of being trapped in the dark in a terrifying SAW inspired maze?
No, me neither to be honest. I’m much more of a Sweet Home Alabama kind of girl. I actually sometimes find it a bit too scary to watch Inspector Morse on my own and then don’t like to go to the toilet in case someone is hiding behind the shower curtain.
I know that lots of people do get their kicks from all things horror though, so in my role as a Thorpe Park Blogger Ambassador it is my duty to inform you that as well as all of the regular rollercoaster and Shark Hotel funtimes you can enjoy at the resort, there are also these very scary Friday nights happening until early November.
Look away now if your idea of frightening is not knowing whether or not Reese Witherspoon will get Bruiser’s Bill passed in Legally Blond 2.
I’ve been looking forward to The Apprentice for weeks now, if not months. It’s one of the only programmes, apart from the Great British Bake Off obviously, that I actually watch live.
I don’t know what it is about The Apprentice, but it’s compulsive viewing for me. As much as I love watching it though, I could never actually be an Apprentice contestant. Having just watched the first episode, I came up with 11 reasons why not.
I do not ‘dance the dance.’ That’s not to say I don’t dance a dance, but it’s definitely not the dance. It’s more of a sort of twitch or fit of some kind.
I don’t give myself 9 out of 10 for attractiveness. 6.8 at best. 7.6 maybe after a few sambucas.
Owning a four year old Toyota would not be the stuff of nightmares for me.
I do not see myself as a cross between Gandhi and the Wolf of Wall Street. Perhaps more Judy Finnigan meets Edina from Ab Fab.
I could not pull off white loafers, no socks and a blue suit. (To be fair, no one can.)
I could not sell ice to the Eskimos, nor would I want to.
I don’t speak about myself in the 3rd person.
I don’t believe that my success depends on the length of my skirt. ‘Making sure I have some nice make-up and heels’ isn’t top of my list when heading out to a meeting.
I know that a man in a cheap hotdog costume does not equal ‘gourmet’.
I barely spend any time at all thinking about how much cheese I need.
I have an IQ higher than 92.
Are you a fan of The Apprentice? Would you ever apply to be a contestant?