Happy 21st Birthday Little Bro! :)

Happy 21st Birthday Jake! 

Can't believe my baby brother is now grown up. Awww. 

Muchos loves wham bam Jakey man xoxo

Jake after three days of fun!

The banoffee cheesecake Mam made from scratch!

Jake's birthday BBQ.

Eyebrow Threading!

Today we went shopping for Jake's birthday presents, party food and the rest. Of course we couldn't help indulging ourselves in a few little luxuries. I've always wanted to try threading as the results are immaculate. So, after not plucking my eyebrows for over a week I headed to the Debenhams brow bar with gritted teeth. I was expecting a world of pain. I've never epilated, or waxed. So as I leaned back in the chair, palms sweating, the beautician began to cleanse my skin. I'm surprised to say I actually liked the odd ripping sensation. I'd describe it like velcro. Like pulling tough velcro apart. I'd do it again, I urge you all to try it if you haven't already. Let's lead the threading revolution! Okay, I'm a bit excited about it, but just look how neat and lovely my 'brows are! xoxo

Scumpy Willow and the Singing Kettle Cafe.

Today I met up with some of my lovely family for lunch. Being a veggie it's nice to find a good cafe in a city centre that isn't just going to offer me the sole option of a cheese sandwich. I took everyone to the Scrumpy Willow and Singing Kettle cafe on Clayton Street in Newcastle. I'd been once before for brunch and the food is just superb. Easy going, organic, simple ingredients, cooked to perfection, bursting with flavour. It isn't a vegetarian cafe though, you can still get a decent full English breakfast but boy do they have a phenomenal range of veggie dishes. Soup and main course of the day were both meat free. Other people had amazing fruit smoothies, but I opted for water, soup of the day which was leek and potato served with freshly made bread and falafels with pitta bread, hummous, natural yoghurt, leafy salad and tomato salsa. I was so full I had to loosen my belt! I'd recommend this super cute cafe to everyone. The staff were really accommodating, we actually broke a glass and our waitress was really nice about it (cue my red face and a million apologies!). A must for any hungry tourist, or infact resident of Newcastle Upon Tyne. Here's their website for more information - www.scrumpywillowandthesingingkettle.co.uk.

What's got into me?

So the other day I realised it's only 9 weeks until I go to Paris. Megayay! But, I'm still only a size 16. I was size 18 when I began this gym craze and I can now wear my size 16 skinny jeans and do proper lunges (sorry to any member of the public that I have offended, but that's the official test for skinnies, if you can't lunge, they don't fit). The new rules are in place, no carbs after dark, if you're hungry drink more water, when you want to go home from the gym make yourself do another 20 minutes, etc. So when asked out for a cheeky trip to Starbucks round the corner I happily said yes. I actually jogged there and then order a superfood 'Green Machine' smoothie and a fruit salad in place of my usual grande black Americano crammed with white sugar and a slab of iced carrot cake. What's got into me? I like it. 

xoxo

Dad, me and the bike.

I have some great memories of growing up in the mountains behind Malaga. The amazing views, trees to climb, walking fifteen to twenty kilometres just to see your friends for the weekend, the dry earth, the dust, big hot rocks to lie on, the hot inescapable sun. In this climate it is acceptable to choose a bike as a mode of transport, as long as you wear sunglasses to keep bugs out of your eyes. My amazing Dad taught me how to ride a motorbike. The memory will stay with me forever. We lived a kilometre and a half off the tarmac road, down a dirt track that we'd all watched being dug out by a huge machine years ago. I can't remember where he got it, but he drags this bike out on to the track and taught me how to kick start it, about clutch control, changing gears. Once I had the hang of it, he would actually run along side me riding the bike. I can remember him laughing in some kind of odd protest when I would rev the engine to urging it to go faster. His legs a blur, sweat running down his face. Eventually I convinced him that I could do it on my own so he wouldn't pass out from sprinting under the glaring sun. I had the best time that afternoon. I'll never forget our Honda XLR 125cc. Thanks Dad. xoxo

Happy Birthday Pete!

Boyfriend and I spent the day with his family to celebrate his Dad's birthday. We had a brilliant lunch in the White Hart Inn in the little village of Llangybi, even though the weather was schizophrenic. I mean really, when am I meant to wear my new suede shoes? It's as if nobody cares. Anyway, Boyfriend's nieces are gorgeous and funny. His younger brother got his bass guitar out which was cool. They have a bunch of cats which are all cute and fluffy. I want a pet cat so bad. Then the sun came out and there were pretty things to capture, like the plants and a carving of King Arthur. xoxo

Some people are idiots.

On a daily basis I am confronted with an endless stream of strangers. Even though it is expected of me, I find no labour in greeting passers by with a polite smile and a how-do-you-do. The range of responses leaves a lot to be desired. Few people offer equally polite remarks, which make me feel like the world is a nice place to live in. Occasionally they are foreign and just smile at me bashfully. Some times you get a blank, which is funny if not a little frustrating. Sometimes they look at you as if you're asking them for their wallet and jewellery at gun point. Sometimes they say "no thank you" when all I've said is "good morning". Sometimes they actually register my greeting and scoff. Sometimes they roll their eyes as they rush past, as if a smile or eye contact is beneath them.
I wonder how charity workers feel, the ones in tabards, who roam pedestrian areas in the city centre. I bet they face some icy reactions.
All I want to say is Hello and let people know I am being friendly. I guess some people are idiots. xoxo

Too sick to live.

Whenever you are sick, you are more sick than anyone else have ever been in the history of life itself. My head is spinning, it weighs a tonne. My vision is blurred from my constantly watery eyes. I can taste the infection in my throat. Death is breathing down my clammy exposed neck. Oh and I look fabulous, of course. So I'll wrap up in my pyjamas and blanket, heat up my plush sheep 'Warmies' in the microwave and hope for the best. I've been guzzling orange juice which is satisfying as it tingles my throat and feels better afterwards. I've pleaded via text to Boyfriend to bring home lemons and squeezy honey. I have soluble Lemsip sachets, but I can't believe nobody told me how revolting they are. I've watched countless people swig mugs of the nasty concoction with sighs of relief. Maybe they are spies planted to convince me to buy it. Well it worked. Now the box of medicine sits on the kitchen counter mocking me every time I walk past. It might be time for another nap. xoxo

Lilac suede ballerinas.

My new favourites! A new line of pastel shoes at Next has just landed and I've snapped up these scrumptious lilac suede ballerinas for £30 (justified by a Boyfriend family gathering in two weeks, thinking ahead to our trip to Paris in July...). They also have them in mint green, but as I've gone mint green mad lately I have decided to change things up. So many outfit ideas, such little time. Chinos, or dress?

Here's the link! xoxo

Here comes the sun, little darling...

It's official. I saw sunshine. Glorious, warm, colourful, lively, happy spring time sunshine. 

I feel restored. I love the sun & here's our cute view over the river at home.