Somebody's daughter.

 We're all some one's baby. My girly used to hold her arms up to me when I'd walked her too far and say "Mummy up" and I'd pick her up. Every now and then, a confused and mumbling voice will come over the phone, sometimes incoherent, but the message I can still hear is "Mummy up". We go, scoop her up and always make sure she has a soft place to fall. Some body's daughter didn't start off in live a mess of drink and drugs, they played, did their homework, snuggled up for a story and were full of their mum's hopes for their tomorrows and tomorrows.

 Some body's daughter was brought up with lots of love, with fun and happiness, parks and picnics alongside hard work and ambition.

 There will be parents all over the world, who watched the news today and knew it could have been their daughter. There are parents all over the world who prickle when the phone rings or a police car drives down their avenue as it could the voice they never want to hear coming to tell it to them as it is. There are parents all over the world, who like me, were touched by the sad but not unexpected news of Amy Winehouse's drug overdose and sad death and yet sighed with relief that it was somebody else's daughter and not ours today.

 We often think that drug and alcohol abuse is a dark and frightening place but for addicts, it's the peaceful numbness in a dark and confusing world that you want to medicate yourself from. I'm quite sure that for people with a self destructive gene that if there were no drugs and no alcohol, they'd still find a way of harming themselves as self inflicted pain is so less intense than the pain that life inflicts upon some people. Some body's daughter couldn't make sense of how lovely she was, how creative, how beautiful and certainly couldn't make sense of a changing world that may hold a brightness tomorrow that is constantly shadowed today.

Amy's death today has touched me, but the saddest part is that I was glad it was somebody else's daughter and not my turn today.

dinking dold!

 Hi everyone,

Normal service will resume when I feel better. I thought I was just tired and my cold would pass at the weekend but it got worse, gone to my chest and now I'm wheezing like Steptoe's horse on a frosty morning.

TTFN,

Froogs xxxx

The journey to downshifting.

I was a child of the 1980's. I didn't know any different. I was part of a radically and drastically changing world where old values melted away and consumerism and capitalism took over as the over arching values that became the centre of everyone's lives. I fell for it.

I became a mum in 1986 and managed to work through both of the childrens' formative years. I was the busy mother who was always too tired because work came first. In the booming 1990's we borrowed and bought our way to 'prosperity', a prosperity that I'm only just paying off now. We lived the 'good' times and credit was easy. The noughties saw the prosperity continue. I had aspired to a 'career', I re-educated myself, reinvented myself and moved up the property 'ladder'. In the end, I was working for the lie that I was taught in the 80's, wanted for in the 90's and fell deeply in debt for in the 00's.

I can't turn back the clock. I can't stay home and just knit and make jam with the children. They've grown and gone and I'll never get it back. What I am though, is older and wiser. I now aspire to live a 'good life', to live quietly and work with my hands. My dreams are simple. Grow food, live on less, use less energy, walk more, eat less, sit quietly, pray more, help others, read more, listen to Radio 4, learn more French and take time to enjoy the view.

I'm a bit sorry for myself at the moment. I'm about to lose a sizeable chunk of my pension and to pay more for it. I'm going to have to live off a lot less and pay a lot more for a lot less. My job is killing me and it's extremely hard to balance work and life.

I'm a great believer in visualising, of seeing what you want, at imagining yourself doing something and truly believing that you can and you will do something in the near future. I will downsize. I will buy a shoe box sized house and a little garden. I will pay off the mortgage in five years. I will be able to then pay a pension and I will then be able to retire before I'm fit to drop.

I don't want the stars and moon, just a two up, two down and a patch of grass, an open fire and enough room to bake bread.

I've written this today, just for me. I need to come back and read this every now and then. I need to remember that I can do this. I will have a smaller home, a simpler life. I can do this.

They told me there'd be days like this!

Today is crap! With whippy crap on top, decorated with crap sprinkles! Everything is getting paid but as the song says "Money's too tight to mention!" House is a total mess and I've hardly time to clean it, school work is pressing on me like medieval torture, the garden needs work and the inner me wants to find something to smile about.

It's a very Eeyore kind of day and I would like to cancel it, forget it and go back to bed, pull the duvet over my head and tell the whole world to bleep off! I've £18 to last until pay day and that has to go in the fuel tank and we're eating from the store (which won't let us starve) All in all? Just keeping my head above my emotional parapet! Plus! It's a very, very, fat and really bleepin' ugly day today (women know what they are) and today I will not allow myself any food just to try and stop the fat building any where else.

Now if you don't mind......I'm off to berate my own ugly stupidity for the rest of the day!

Purposefully occupied!

If you have children, then you'll know Michael Morpurgo! He is one of my many favourite writers for children. I'm busily planning a new scheme of work for some of my students and I'll be nose to the keypad for quite a few nights with some time off for good behaviour. I might sniff a yogurt or do something equally dietish! In the meantime, I'll leave you with the opening of the last chapter......then you must promise me, that you'll go to the library and get the book out immediately and enjoy every single word.

One Minute to Six

I try to close my mind to what is happening this minute to Charlie. I try to think of Charlie as he was at home, as we all were. But all I can see in my mind are the soldiers leading Charlie out into the field. He is not stumbling. He is not struggling. He is not crying out..................Six men, their rifles loaded and ready, each one wanting only to get it over with. They will be shooting one of their own and it feels to them like murder. They try not to look at Charlie's face......

Enjoying not being normal!

In my post epiphanaeic smugness, where I don't shop, where I don't 'do' retail therapy, I live, in what feels like, a parallel universe to many people. Nothing I can hold in my hands, other than those I love, gives me any pleasure at all. I've learnt over the years that happiness is not external. It's not something that is reliant on what you are eating................and yet many of us have tried to eat our way to happiness. It's not something that we can buy..................and so many of us have tried to buy happiness.

A few years ago, when I was so low I didn't want to open my eyes ever again, I was referred to counselling. It wasn't a good experience. The counsellor, who is trained to ask questions and then allow the person who is being counselled to come to their own conclusions, asked me how I felt just after I'd had my hair done and got my make up on and asked me to remember that moment. I looked the poor unsuspecting man in the face and with a steely, 'I can kill you at any minute' rebuke remarked that I felt no better or any worse under those circumstances. He then thought he and I should discuss those little 'luxuries' that lift our spirits. He talked about bubble baths, a nice glass of wine, some chocolate or a trip to the shop to treat ourselves. As I was in a very, very dark place, I think I told him he could go eat **** and have seconds! I didn't go back! Sometimes, I think that counsellors are being sponsored by Debenhams!

The last three years have taught me that nothing I can buy, eat or even cook actually makes me happy. I have taken responsibility for my own well beings and I have decided to be happy and therefore I am. (I know, all a bit NLP, but it works for me)

 I am utterly smug about not shopping and not owning, and not wanting. I feel completely superior that, on my way to enlightenment, I have maybe found the answer (life,the universe and everything.............42?) I counted up the pairs of shoes that I own. Seven pairs, including wellies and recently purchased charity shop hiking boots and trainers. I own one dress. I own one pair of jeans. I own two coats and so on. Nearly everything I have is from the Sally Army shop, ebay or the car booter. So why all the happiness? In my life, up until recent years, I felt as if I had to 'do as I was told' and that somehow, I had to fit in. Well, I don't. I don't have to wear the 'latest fashion', I don't have to have my hair done, I can wear the same shoes for years on end, I can wear the same colour every day as everything matches! I can just open a tin of sardines and have that for lunch, whilst eating it from the tin with a spoon.

What ever normal is, or was, I certainly don't subscribe to it any more. Shopping? I'd rather go home and turn my compost!

Until tomorrow,

Froogs xxxxx

Did you miss me?

Thanks to everyone who logged on whilst I was on holiday and thanks for all the wonderful comments and kindness. It is though, good to be home again.

The journey was uneventful, in so much as an over night crossing can be. The queue for embarkation reminded me what a jolly lot the Brits are. There were three 'Morgan' cars in the queue, in livery, as they had been part of a ralley to the Vendee. Small boys, big boys and blokes in general were clambering all over them. Instead of being snooty, the drivers allowed kids to climb all over their cars, for mums and dads to take photos of their children in the cars. Three robust (I'm trying to be polite, but portly older gentlemen) were driving the cars and, even though they had caused such a commotion that  I thought they would tire of the fuss and yet, they accomodated all the little boys who 'wowed' and wanted to have a look.

Normally, any journey for me on that ferry is a nightmare, usually because people can't keep themselves or their children to a level of acceptable behaviour. It was all very good humoured, calm and quiet.

My trip to the supermarket also reminded me what a good humoured nation we are and why, for another reason, that it's good to be home. Firstly, we know when our supermarkets will open or shut. There is no mystery; they open at 8am on Monday and close, after continuously being open, on Saturday evening at 10pm and open from 10 am until 5pm on Sunday. That's more of less the same across the whole country. No early closing to celebrate the patron saint of carmen rollers or any other event and they don't close for lunch. Hooray for the humble British supermarket! Also, the food is dead, and not swimming or crawling around when you get in there..............I really don't want a chat with my lunch before I eat it. Finally, the British shopper does not see shopping as a social event or a sport; they do not need to chat, or even talk at all. Nor do they have to poke, sniff, squeeze food, nor do they throw you out of the way if they want the bunch of carrots that you're looking at. In fact, it's the opposite; if they have a bunch of carrots that you want, they will promptly put them down, apologise profusely and scuttle off in a cloud of shame. Oh yes, in deed, it's good to be home.

I'm going to be busy for the rest of the day, with laundry, house cleaning and preparing to go back to work. This time tomorrow, I will be busily and happily back at work, with just a bit of me wishing I could sit in the sunshine for one more day. Now, all I have to do, is be ever so frugal and careful and save up for the holiday next year.

Until tomorrow,

Froogs xxx

Do you shuffle?

I don't know about you; but I love a lucky dip. Also, I love raffles, tombolas and random presents. Some time ago, Dearly Beloved sold off all of his hefty boy's toys (he used to sell expensive audio equipment such as Bang and Olufsen) on ebay and bought, with the money he had made, an ipod. I've always thought it was a silly little thing until I rediscovered getting outside to exercise. He uses it every day for his commute, but he's loaded it up with music that I love and when I go out for my hour long walk..............I put it on shuffle. Today, I felt, as if I shuffled my way around  fragments of my life. Here's today's shuffle.

 Push off with some ACDC and a really rebellious youth!! Late nights, waking up and truly not knowing where are I was or who the **** are you? The Cornwall Colliseum, rock bands, drinking in pubs underage and cider and black!!! Anyone remember the General Wolf? Seven Stars? King of Prussia? I think I threw up and got thrown out of all of them!!!! It's no wonder I flunked my A levels!!!!

 Up the hill, and past the supermarket across the roundabout and a time for Fleetwood!!! Where am I now, oh I remember.......moody, long teenage nights, usually grounded with......if you can remember them.......my record player!!! Bought from Woolies with a clear plastic lid to keep the dust off! Mum banging on the ceiling with a broom because it was always too loud and as 'Second hand news' throbs in my ears, I'm there again with a room full of joss sticks trying to mask the fact that I'm smoking out of the window!!!!

 As I reach the top of the hill, Cara Dillon starts to sing to me. She is a recent part of my history. I love the way that she sings with her Irish accent and as I pound the pavement, 'Bold Jamie' quickens my pace and even now, music is part of my every day life. Cara comes in the car with me to work, she helps me with the houses work and whilst I type, she's singing 'I wish you well'.

 Breathless, and at the top of the hill, I turn the corner to Robbie Williams (I wish!!) and 'hot fudge' spurs me on to pick up the pace. Now Robbie.............you were with me all through my mature student day at Exeter Uni!!!! You would be chatted over with a coffee and a muffin (Oh now I really wish!!!) with the students on my course alongside Marlowe, Lawrence, Austen and Simone De Beauvoir. We had such intellectual chats. On my one trip to the US, I tried to introduce some lovely folk ( well, actually as square as oxo cubes!) to the Robster!!! They found him far too sexual.......... earthy raw. It was good to do NY and PA, but it was good to get home too because I only met the 'quiet' people.

 As I turn the corner to the cricket club and head out along St. Cleer road and I'm there, in Dearly Beloved's shared house, staying over at the weekends and us re-aquainting ourselves with a past that has woven in and out of our lives for the nine years previous to us getting together. We knew each other in Bath. He was a friend of a friend. We socialised in the same group and heady nights were spent in the Salamander (packed, seedy, smoky, dark, barely room to move with sweat dripping down the walls!!). I ran a pub, called the Saracen's Head (nothing like the Salamander may I add!) and my staff and I were no older than twenty five and we drank as hard as we worked! The Salamander, where we drank on nights off, had the word's best juke box! It's official as far as I'm concerned. It's a wonder we didn't all end up and A&E!!! We were literally 'living on a prayer!'

 Just as I'm about to head for the home straight, I'm shuffled onto 'Born Slippy' by Underworld. Something I've never mentioned is my love of film and I have favourites and Trainspotting has to be up in my top one hundred. As I mentioned, Dearly Beloved used to work in an audio electrical store and would buy traded in speakers and amps, so he introduced me to surround sound and a night in with really good film. I have quite a few music sound tracks on the i-pod.

You can keep the gym, expensive zumba classes and anything else on at the leisure centre. Firstly, I haven't got the money and I wouldn't waste it even if I had it! I'm happy with the charity shop trainers, fleece hoody and three mile circuit with hills. I'm getting faster and it's getting easier. Now, a night is not complete without that circuit, music and the way it takes me to a place far, far away!

The frugal Dukan Diet?

Ok!


Call me your very own guinea pig if you like, but I'm giving the Dukan Diet a go. I have a history with dieting which mirrors my history with spending and giving up smoking. I gave up smoking three times before I finally just gave up. I would abstain for years and then have a 'fuck this' moment and start drinking, or smoking, or spending money or in recent years......eating! I am now at the two year point of not spending money and by now I would usually feel 'hard done by' and start spending. I am not as cold turkey as I once was and allow myself new clothes, or new shoes but in moderation. I'm the same with wine, I gave up for years at a time and then found another 'fuck this' moment and in true Brit style found an excuse to get totally ratted! Like the spending, I don't do that any more and haven't done so for many years.

I have lost a considerable amount of weight twice before. Once I did it by getting divorced, (I know the old joke .....I lost fifteen stone of ugly fat!) as I was so stressed that I simply didn't eat and when Dearly Beloved and I first got together, I was a size 10. I stayed that weight for quite a while and then made my way back up to a size 16. In 2005, I embarked on the Weight Watchers programme and lost three stone and went all the way down to 10 stone and a size 10 again, and at 5'10"...that's no mean feat. The only way I kept the weight off was to restrict calories to 17 points a day and if any of you know the old Weight Watchers system, that's about a thousand calories a day; it was infact an ultra low calorie diet. Your body goes into starvation mode, which means the moment you start eating again, you pile on pound after pound after pound; and I did!

The Dukan diet is based on burning your own carbohydrates as you don't eat any. I know what you're thinking......is this Atkins #2? In a way, it is, but this is low fat. It also spooks your body's metabolism as you don't stick to the same eating patterns but you alternate them. You do in fact become ketonic, which you manage with two to three litres of water a day. It also regulates your blood sugars and I don't crave food. You see, I'm normally always hungry, my body has no 'full' feeling. You could wake me up in the middle of the night, unwrap haddock, chips and mushy peas and by the time the aroma of vinegar touched my nose, I could happily eat the lot. So, this is how it works. I spent 5 days on pure proteins and then five days on proteins and very low carb veggies such as lettuce or onion. I get the few carbs I need from the low fat dairy products I eat.

You saw yesterday that I'm experimenting with Quark. Today, I made myself a two egg omelette, which I flavoured with some finely diced and fried onion, then I poured the eggs over the top. I ate that with some of the quark which I flavoured with garlic and parsley. I'm now on a 72 day programme of alternating days of pure protein (as I have today) with days of protein and vegetables.

It's easier to tell you what I don't eat. I don't eat any starch, bread, potatoes, high fat cheese, any fruit as it full of sugar. After the 72 days, or how ever long it takes me to get to my target weight, then I'll blog again about the next stage of my weight loss. The website has the basic www.dukandiet.co.uk and you can of course get the book, my library has several copies and I'm reading one at the moment. All the recipes are adaptation of classic French recipes, lots of chasseur, hollandaise, au poive ect. I will admit, it's expensive but I buy meat when it's reduced and low fat cheeses when they are on offer. The most frugal part of the diet is the fact that by regulating blood sugars, (this is similar to  the diet that diabetics are put on too) I don't feel hungry between meals. I sat through a three hour meeting and people had sweets and biscuits and were obviously peckish after work and were happily munching away on them. I ate some sliced meat with cottage cheese for lunch and didn't feel any need to eat again until 7pm this evening. Usually, I would have eaten anything insight including the pet dog when I got home.

I'm just stunned with not feeling hungry. I went through the lowest depression ever when I followed the Weight Watchers plan as I was always hungry. I'm not hungry and I'm not picking. I hope to go on and lose a pound a week from here after. I'm off out for my nightly walk with my dogs and the only difference is that I've doubled the distance. They seem happy enough on it!

Me, 2006., at size 12, this for me is a normal size and where I hope to get back to, however, I'll settle for anything smaller than a size 16! Wish me luck.

On the street where I live

 Every night, I go on a date with Dearly Beloved. He takes me for a walk. We just amble around Liskeard and rarely walk more than three streets away from out own home. Those little lanes are just lovely and I thought I would share our evening walk with you. Start by leaving our estate and onto the road below our house.

 I love the ancient cottages on the left, they are typical of 'Queen Ann at the front and Mary Ann'  at the back, probably built in the 1700s and continuous occupation ever since.

 I love the little lanes that take you behind the houses, service lanes as they are called. Just a dirt road which runs to mud in the winter. There are fields full of cows at the end of this lane and to the right is the retaining wall of our garden.

 People take such care with their front gardens, even if just enough to run a path through. Liskeard is multi-coloured with Azaleas, the blooms will go soon so enjoy them whilst they're here.

 The bigger houses have lovely drive ways with traditional stone 'Cornish' hedges, which are wide and earth filled with even more flowering shrubs on top.

I quite like nature forcing her way through in the hedges, the seedlings pushing their way into the manicured colour and the unfurling ferns that seem to be every where.

 I love the alley ways between the cottages and you can glimpse the gardens behind.

 Even though Liskeard is a densely populated area, the farmland and woodland butts up against the houses, we all seem to rub along quite nicely. I love our evening walks. They are slow and we talk. It's the perfect way to end each day.

Until tomorrow,
Froogs xxxx

I've got a never ending love for you!

 I'll start off with a load of positives! Yesterday ended really well. The sprouts have now sprouted and are in a  tub in the fridge and will be eaten tonight with something tasty and healthy. I read Hardup Hester's blog about meat being on offer in the Co-op and I walked down for a look as, I live on the same street as the local Co-op supermarket and usually it's more expensive than Waitrose! They had meat on offer for three packs (750g a pack) for £10. I bought minced beef, a whole chicken and four lean pork steaks. I have lots of Chinese style sauces, that I had bought for next to nothing from Approved Foods and I always have ginger, chilli and garlic in house so everything can be a stir fry. I had also bought a kilo bag of frozen stir fry veggies from Tesco when I last went there.

I had tired and hungry people in the house and we were well fed.

The start of the day  was dreadful. The phone rang at four in the morning, which usually involves poo and the fan colliding! It did! Daughter was on her way. To cut a very long and sorry story short she'd had a night out that would have challenged the combined drinking and drug taking capacity of: Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain and Ozzy Osborne! She had been found wandering around North Hill in Plymouth in a very bad state, she's managed to borrow a phone and called her dad to collect her. He brought her to me.

She was filthy, not washed, soaked through, disoriented and sobbing her heart out, covered in bruises and still in the middle of a two hour long panic attack. It took me a while to calm her down and then she proceeded to cuddle and sob into big dog for the next hour. When the sobbing subsided, she took up residency on the sofa, under the blanket and continued to cuddle big dog and then fell asleep. She awoke a few hours later in a 'coming down' black mood and  I managed to persuade her to change her clothes. I had, by now, washed the clothes her dad had dropped off and things were looking better.


I gave myself a break and walked to the Co-op and brought some of the 'on offer' meat home and then made the stir fry.........always one of her favourites. Bad mood continued with demands to be taken back to Plymouth and dropped off at a friend's house. I refused (I do tough love whilst dad/ex/total plonker just gives in) and she settled herself in for the evening. We were all exhausted after being woken at stupid o'clock and she was off to bed early and then slept through until midday today.

 Today has been lovely, I've knitted and we've chatted. She is being very trying, but as ever, she's my baby girl and I adore her no matter what she does, when she does it or what we have to do to support her. On the plus side, after waiting for ages she is getting professional counselling from 'Adaction', who specialise in dependency and she knows when her next appointment is and where she has to go to see them. She was apologetic today and extremely grateful. Even though yesterday was utterly shite, today is sunnier and I can see some progress.

Her dad gave in (after one phone call...........that man has the breaking strain of a kit-kat!) and has taken her back to Plymouth this evening. I've done what I can and she knows I love her, I'm here and no matter what times she call and no matter what state she is in, I'm here for her because the bell rang and it was time to climb back into the ring again.

Until tomorrow,

Froogs xxxx

A year's supply of soap and washing away worries.

 I made a few batches of soap last year, most of which became birthday and Christmas gifts for the family. It's still washing our delicates, the car, the windows, the worktops and the floor. Firstly, I chop it into cubes and then blitz it for a few seconds. I then add a couple of spoons of washing soda.

 The end result is a version of soap powder. I store it in a plastic box with a lid by the sink and use it for all household cleaning, including hand washing and of course, washing ourselves. I know soap is cheap, but hand made vegetable soap, which is cruelty free and planet friendly isn't. Mine costs 16p a bar.

I don't stock pile, I don't have the ready cash to do that. I have a few 'stashes, but I never have a year's worth. I often have three or four months supply around the house of 'staples' and I'm shocked when I buy them again, as they've always increased in price.

Again, I would like to thank anyone who has emailed me, or left messages of support. I have taken advice and now all messages are moderated by me before I then allow them in the 'comments'. It's easier to just delete. I've had over three thousand hits on the website today and the most moving emails from people who know we'll get through this together. To those people, and you know who you, and what you are personally going through, just hang in there. We have to. We are in it together. We are here for each other. If there's something you might think I can advise on, or you want help with; then leave a comment and I'll see what I can write about.

 I have a feeling it's going to get worse. One of the biggest employers in most economically developed countries such as the UK and  Australia etc are the public sector and they will be cut as the economy recedes. They employ millions of people, who are at risk of losing their jobs. Dearly Beloved is just waiting to find out about his job. I'm grateful for employment and as I have known the delicate situation of the private sector as I've been employed in it and have been an employer myself. I know many friends who have been made redundant, who were lucky enough to find another job only to be made redundant again in a very short time. We need to really 'cut our cloth' carefully. If we have debts we need to reduce them. If we spend, we need to be wise. If we use credit cards, we need to stop.

I don't want to tell anyone how to live their life, but I do want to share mine. It's been a painful journey and yet full of rewards. We have zero % transferred loans that we snowball and pay off in huge amounts. We pay off £1750 in debt repayments a month!!! And that doesn't include our mortage. We leave ourselves with £400 a month, which is more than adequate to feed ourselves, transport me to work, clothe ourselves, have days out, furnish our home, look after our pets, pay for hair cuts and care for our immediate family and friends. We've lived like this since November 2009 and it hasn't killed us. If I can help just one person cope with less, if just one person feels that they can make do and stop consuming, if one person just grows a potato plant in an old shopping bag on the front step, then deleting the odd cutting remark will be worth it. I might disappear occasionally when life bites me a bit harder than I can cope with, but I won't stop blogging.

Between you and me dear reader, I need this. It helps me make sense of the planet. I reflect and actually, I have a wonderful life. I'm healthy, well fed, well clothed, funny, clever, in love, a mum to two wonderful adults, daughter of two loving parents and I live in paradise. If you want to read, then read, but let me know it's worth it and become a follower and leave a comment every now and then.

Here's something for you to ponder and comment on today............if you were going to stock pile to get through hard time, or if you already do, let us know what it is and why.

As ever, Love Froogs

xxxxx

This blog will disappear shortly!

Dear lovely, lovely people xxxxx

Here I am, wounds licked, patched up and bandaged. No need to explain the whys or wheres; you have mostly accurately drawn your own conclusions. Your wonderful messages have sustained me through what I can only describe as a very rough time.


I'm opening the doors for a few days only for 100 followers only. Those really interested in frugality, living lightly on the planet, saving money, cooking from scratch, soap making, crafting, jumble sale hunting can apply. To be a follower you need to do the following.

1. Have a blog and be a blog author.


2. Email me on janemclark@hotmail.com, in it you need to include the hyperlink to your blog. I will keep your email address and then invite you to be an 'author' .

We bloggers can share our own little world, squirrelling away jam, making aprons out of old jeans, turning our collars and boiling our ham bones.

Vixen, Hester, Foster Mummy, Small holder wannabe.....etc.....come on over.

Thanks again for the incredible love and kindness sent my way xxxx

As ever, all my love,

Froogs xxxx

Hurlers, Cheesewring and back again.

Bodmin Moor

I took the 'new' boots out for a walk today. A brisk one hour and home again. It was bright and sunny but blowy to the point that we couldn't converse and walk simultaneously. We drove the 15 minutes from Liskeard to Minions and then walked from the car park, via the Hurlers to The Cheesewring and back again. We made it on and off the moor before the hoards turned up. That's the problem with beauty on our doorstep; everyone else wants some too. Enjoy the photographs.