Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Life on instagram

I am very much enjoying Instagram at the moment. I thought I'd share a selection of snaps that I have uploaded in the past couple of weeks. A peek into life here, as it happens. Nothing fancy or too styled (although there are some beautiful IG feeds out there. I'm thinking @porthjess and @carolinesouth). Just a hotch potch of stuff that have tickled my fancy at that time.  Spontaneous and fun.

Eating a pasty up The Digey ~ Iced buns for the boys ~ Hello little sweet peas ~ Stormy Porthmeor ~ Windswept selfie ~ Hangover cure ~ Little Letters arrival ~ Family Learning 

The pasty I ate while walking around town, after some heavy duty cleaning at home. I had a bleach headache, and needed some air. I also realised that I was starving, so treated myself to a cheese and veg pasty from the St Ives Bakery. I ate most of it overlooking Porthmeor, but I thought this was a great pasty selfie.

On Friday I had a hankering to make iced buns. They were a pleasure to make. I hadn't made any bread for the longest time, and the process of kneading, knocking back and proving was relaxing. I was really pleased with the way that they turned out. Needless to say they didn't last long.

The sweet pea seeds that I collected from last years plants have germinated in record time. I am thrilled that most have peeped above the soil. They are basking in the warmth of the greenhouse. Tomorrow I sow various vegetables and Cosmos. I have to say that I adore being in my greenhouse.

I have walked along Porthmeor beach several times this week. On this particular day a storm front swept in from the Atlantic. It bought a heavy downpour and I was soaked through. The colours were beautiful however.

Porthmeor again. A different day. It was very windy. I took a selfie. I quite like it!

Porridge for breakfast. The day after my trip to the cinema with my sister in law to see 50 Shades Of Grey. I wasn't expecting much, and therefore wasn't disappointed. It was cack. I've seen more chemistry and eroticism in a car advert.

Just over a month ago, Nell, wrote a post about penpals for little ones. I thought that it would be a great project for Olly to be involved in. He loves post. His first letter arrived all the way from Australia this week. He was completely thrilled, and took it into school today for show and tell.

Family Learning is a literacy based course that runs in schools up and down the UK. It's aims are to get parents more involved in their child's reading and writing. It's also a chance to observe and be part of your child's learning at school. The topic for our group is Spring, and we went on a wander around the school grounds to find signs of Spring. I also learnt about phonemes, and sounding out words.

Leanne xx

Tuesday, 3 March 2015

The Year In Books 2015 - March

Sometimes I decide to read a book, and then it just gets left and I read other things instead. That's what happened in February. I started my nominated book on Saturday. Needless to say I didn't finish it, although I am now half way through and enjoying it. The above shows some of the books that I did read. I also read 'Pigs In Heaven' by Barbara Kingsolver and 'The Apple Orchard' by Susan Wiggs, on my Kindle.

On the whole I enjoyed my February reads, apart from 'The Apple Orchard.' This was my book group choice. It wasn't for me. Too frothy. Too contrived. Too sentimental. I think I most enjoyed Viv Albertine's auto-biography 'Clothes, Music, Boys.' For any of you that don't know, Albertine was the guitarist in the 70's punk band The Slits. I feel a real nostalgia for all things seventies, even though I was only a young girl at the time of punk. I find the social history of Britain at that time fascinating. Albertine was part of an exciting movement that swept across the UK during a decade of huge unheaval and change for the country. It was perfect reading for me.

This month I have several books to choose from. I shall endeavour to finish February's read, and last night I downloaded 'The Miniaturist' by Jessie Burton and 'Elizabeth Is Missing' by Emma Healey. I've also started 'Confessions Of A Sociopath' by M E Thomas.

Linking up with Laura and her wonderful series.

Leanne xx

Thursday, 26 February 2015


It occurred to me today that if I won the lottery, my first purchase would be bath towels. The kind you might find in a very posh hotel. Thick and luxurious, they would wrap around my goodly frame. My towels have seen better days. Yes they are soft and absorbent. But they are also starting to fray a little and have lots of pulled threads from being popped into little mouths. They look rather threadbare hanging over the towel rail.

The same could be said for my underwear. Oh to be like Madonna and have more fancy pants than you could shake a stick at. Since having kids, I have lost all interest in pretty knickers. Actually that's not strictly true. I often wander around M&S and gaze longingly at their matching separates. I buy their five packs. Black. Plain. Midis. Boring.

After new towels and fancy pants, I think I'd like to buy the house that overlooks Clodgy Point. Whoever owns it is rarely there, which I think is a travesty. I'd knock on the door. "Name your price," I'd say. "This house needs to be lived in!" Once installed, I'd position all my furniture so that it would be looking out. I'd buy some binoculors (the best. I'm loaded remember), and watch the world go by. I would never tire of such a glorious view.

I walked to Clodgy Point earlier in the week. St Ives had the wind in its' sails, and I wanted to see the waves. They were huge and foamy. Swirling around the rocks and crashing up onto the headland. I stood with my hood up, my scarf blowing out at a right angle and felt myself return to a calmer space. The fuzz subsided, and my headache was soothed. The sea sent spray high into the air and created rainbows in its' midst. I could taste the salt on my lips as I made my way towards Porthmeor and home.

I'm not sure I could be trusted if I won the lottery to be honest. When Marc and I have the ubiquitous lottery conversation, he invariably tells me that I'd probably give most of it away. I just think that as long as I have nice towels and pants, and a great view, there wouldn't be much need for anything else.

Leanne xx

Monday, 23 February 2015

In no particular order


Hello lovelies.

I have given up Facebook for Lent.

The Co-op is selling huge bars of Fruit and Nut for £1.50.

After ten years we finally have a larger piece of glass for our dining table. Having all six of my dining chairs around it makes me very happy.

My eldest bought himself some new clothes. All by himself. With his own money. I never thought I'd see the day.

There is Lego everywhere. I cannot stand it.

Ditto crafty stuff.

I finally got the screen of my mobile phone fixed. It only took three months. Why do I always take so long to get anything done?

I got the wobbles over half term, but am feeling brighter today.

Wolf Hall is stupendous.

I heard this song on the radio while driving back from Bristol. It made me cry.

I'm thinking of getting some photographs of myself taken. Is that vain?

It's just that I'd like to feel good about myself before I touch down at forty five.

Yikes....forty five.

In my head I'm still seventeen.

My amnesia is playing havoc.

I have read a lot this month because of it.

Cup of tea and bed.

Nighty night lovelies.

Leanne xx

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Mid Week

Olly and I walked down to the harbour today with a bucket and spade, money for a pasty, a flask of coffee and cake. The clouds hung low in the sky, punctuated by gaps through which the sun weakly shone. The colours of St Ives were muted and pale. Bleached sand complimeted by the cool hues of the stone harbour walls. The sea rolled into the harbour from Smeaton's Pier and gently lapped the shore as children waded in their wellies along the tide line. The gulls were out in force, wheeling low and hunting for easy pickings.

Olly made a day friend and they spent their time digging holes and making sandcastles together. They raced each other around the beach, found sea glass and shells and shared a piece of Hevva cake. They spotted a lad with a metal detector sweeping the sand for hidden treasure. Fascinated, they followed him the length and breadth of the beach constantly asking questions. The dug for treasure too, and found ten pence apiece. Although it was engineered by myself, I loved seeing their faces as they held their discovery aloft.

I helped with the hole digging, and took snaps aplenty. I lent against the old stone walls and watched the world go by. We left the beach as the Parish church clock struck four and made the slow walk up the hill towards home. Holding hands all the way we practiced our numbers and sang nursery rhymes.

I shall be away from here for about a week. I hope to catch up with you all then.

Take care. Have fun.

Leanne xx

Monday, 16 February 2015

On Planning and other stuff

sunrise on Sunday

Anemone emerging in the garden 

I can't tell you how much I adore this house

En route to plot number 10

memorial walk, Hayle

Hayle estuary

reed bed

It's the best I could do CJ 

conquering 'The Spider's Web'

Well kids it's been a lovely weekend, and that's the truth.

It's been satisfying in that Marc did loads of those little 'to do' jobs that go on the list, and then never get done. I have another one for him to do while I am in Bristol. Spring is definitely descending on West Cornwall. I cleaned windows, soaked my sweet pea seeds and planted loads of  Lupins, Echinops, Delphiniums, Anemones, Coneflowers and some rather fancy Dahlias. Planning is not a strength I have to say. I realised that as I was stood wondering exactly where I was going to plant my stockpiled hoard. I think that's why I've never got on board the crafty boat. Jennifer's last post filled me with a mixture of awe and dread. Awe at her organisational prowess. Dread that I may have to do something similar if I ever took up crafts. I married a fantastic planner of stuff. I think he must get very exasperated with me. I always have a list on the go. But they are rarely completed. I always have wims and fancies. But they usually don't see the light of day. Ask me what my latest one is. Go on. You'll laugh your head off.

There was a Tortoiseshell butterfly fluttering in my blinds this week, and I was advised by CT that she had probably been hibernating in the house (the butterfly, not CT). I released her outside, where she busied herself amongst the ivy flowers and then huddled for warmth on the grill of the boiler outlet. She was still hanging out on Sunday. Olly and I also spotted a carder bee in the garden. I wasn't quick enough for a photo, but he lingered long enough for us to identify him. And what a beauty he was. We have spotted  a couple of bumbles this weekend. And there are plenty of birds gathering stuff from the garden for their nests. I enjoyed watching a Blackbird flinging leaves and twigs and maiden hair around underneath the plum tree. He knew what he was looking for at any rate.

We went to plot number 10. Marc is digging beds in earnest. I am crap at the hard landscaping. It's still a little overwhelming for me to be honest. I think I need him to help me plan, because I'm worried that I may come undone otherwise. I did take pictures, but they didn't come out properly. I've included a photo to prove it ;) As Olly and I walked up the lane towards the allotment, we watched a buzzard swoop down into a field and emerge with a rabbit in his talons. Olly was flabbergasted.

Do you have planning issues, or are you very organised and detailed? Are you the type that dives head first into a project without pausing to think, or do you like to be ordered and rational? Please tell me I'm not the only one who has stood with fifteen lupin tubers in her grubby hands and no real idea where to put them. I need to know that I'm not alone....

Leanne xx

Hello to new followers!! You are most welcome here. I love that you pressed the follow button.
Thank you xx And if you haven't come across Jennifer's, CJ's or CT's blogs before, I advise you have a gander post haste. They are three of my favourites. I think you'll love them too.

Saturday, 14 February 2015

How I Met Your Father

See that? That's what happens if you foolishly open the Valentine's chocs when the boys are around.

Gone in five.

Sam asked me how me and his Dad met.

"Well," I said, and gave him the abridged version.

The unabridged version happened thus:

It was the usual; we met in a nightclub in Bath. I was out with my friend, her fella and some very strange dude that he had bought along. I think he was meant for me, but we got off to a rocky start when he grabbed hold of my leather jacket and accused me of murder.

Anyway, we were sat near the dancefloor, when Jo nudged my arm. "Look over there," she said and pointed to this lad walking towards the bar. We looked at each other and laughed. "9.9!" we cried in unison, as the rather handsome - sort of Hugh Grant looking - lad disappeared into the crowd. And that was that.

The evening got worse. By now Jo's fella's friend was sat down in the middle of the dance floor. Rocking to and fro. He may have been in terrible inner turmoil, but I was only twenty three and just felt really pissed off with the silly boy. Then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked round. It was the 9.9. "You look bored," he said. Lame, I thought. Then he smiled. And that was that.

I honestly can't remember much more about the night, because I was very drunk. But I'll admit to waking up in the morning in my friend Jo's spare bedroom with a rather handsome young man beside me. Jo's Mum was furiously vacuuming on the other side of the door. I looked up and saw the Mr Men lampshade staring at me, Mr Tickle winking. Dear Lord. I bought him home. To my friend's house.

Jo's Mum kindly gave him a lift to the station. He gave me his number. I gave it back with mine written on it. "I won't ring you," I blurted. I wouldn't have dared. In the cold light of day I felt rather embarrassed. It wasn't normal behaviour for me, I can assure you. We hugged and off he went. And that was that.

Or so I thought.

He did ring, and left a message with my sister. She had written his number down, but wasn't sure if she got the last digit correct. I bit the bullet, and rang every different combination I could. No joy. Then a few days later Marc rang again. This time he spoke to my Mum. "Oh she'll be so pleased you rang," she gushed "She's been trying all sorts to get hold of you." Aaaargh. My cool cover blown.

He invited me for a meal in Bath. I took my pyjamas. He made me a bacon sandwich in his Uni flat. Washed down with a bottle of beer. We went out and got tipsy. Laughed a lot. Kissed a bit. I missed the last train home to Bristol. Thank God for the nightwear.


I met Marc in November 1993. He had just started a Masters at Bath University. I had come home to live after graduating from Leeds University. We were young. He was a year younger than me. We didn't want anything serious. We just wanted to have a good time. We had a great summer together. The weather was fab in 1994. As September loomed, he told me that he was leaving to work for a company in London. There was this unspoken thing between us. I don't know who admitted it first, but we told each other that this was more than a bit of fun. This felt different. I moved to London about a month after Marc. No job. No-where to live. Just a feeling that this was the one.

We got married in 1996, had Sam in 1997, Alfie in 2001 and Pops in 2010.

We've been busy.

I love him very much.

Leanne xx


Please don't hold the Hugh Grant thing against Marc. Or me for that matter.