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Our Tyne Bridge...

The Tyne Bridge is an iconic structure, especially for those who hail from in and around Gateshead and Newcastle upon Tyne.  It is a frequent feature on postcards, and photographs and is the focus of many an artist, who bring the bridge to life on paper. For those not from the area, it is still a recognisable landmark.  It marks the beginning of the Great North Run every Autumn – an event that is filled with fun, joy and is the culmination of hard work and perseverance.  In 2012, Bear Grylls zip-wired from the bridge with the Olympic Torch. To me, the Bridge is a sign of home and with home comes safety.  It is what I know and choose to know and I am fiercely proud of my roots and being from the North East too.  Even just living in Durham, when I past the Angel of the North and the Tyne Bridge and my way to and from work, something in me finds comfort in seeing them. Yet, to others, the Bridge is nothing but an instrument in their own self destructio...
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Recent posts

Have I missed the final goodbye?

How do you put into words how much you miss somebody? I've been trying for over a year now to find the words or inspiration to sum up how much I miss one of my best and most treasured friends.  My wifey, my amazing, beautiful and hilarious friend. I remember our very last night-in together.  A night where she opened up a little more than she usually did and for some reason I took in everything she said but didn't push any further.  Looking back, I should have known something wasn't right; no, everything was completely wrong.  She wasn't happy.  She hadn't been happy for a ridiculous amount of time and I didn't realise.  How selfish is that?  I knew things weren't all perfect and hunky-dory either, but I didn't know the extent to which her life was changing and how alone she had been in her sadness. Why didn't she tell me how she was feeling?  I judge myself now.  I know how it feels as a close friend to feel taken advantage of, or only ...
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Not really loving my actual skin right now...

I am glad that the summer is coming to an end.   Don’t get me wrong, I have really enjoyed the summer; we have had an unusual amount of sunny and dry days mixed in with the wet and windy.   I have been out in it more than ever and have loved playing with the boys at the park and in the garden.   I even loved taking part in the nursery’s big toddle. This year, I allowed my skin to get some sunshine.   Being a chilly pale-fanatic (as in I love being a bit pale and freckly), I usually still wear trousers, or a cardigan in the sunshine, if I manage to get out in it at all.   But I have actually donned shorts and vests, did a lot of gardening and have loved watching my usually peach-coloured arms turn, well, a darker shade of peach. So, what’s the problem?   It is me.   Me and Psoriasis.   Around 10 years ago, I had a breakout of guttate psoriasis.   My elbows (which have never properly cleared up anyway) and arms had tiny round red pa...
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#100HappyDays

100 Happy Days.   For 100 days, take a photo of something that makes you happy (no matter how much or little) and post it to Facebook, Instagram, Tweet it or email it.   What do you get at the end?   No prize, no recognition.    Who can find something to be happy about for 100 days?   http://100happydays.com/#what I didn’t take part to become a statistic.   I didn’t do it because I am eternally happy and thought it would be easy.   I did it because I wanted to be happy every day and I wanted to challenge myself.   Our lives are taken over by the Every Day.   Money worries, shopping and cleaning chores, dull routine.   We forget to find the happy little bits of the day that calm us down and make us think “ahhh that’s nice”.   That’s what I was looking for.   I, along with my friend Laura, decided to take part and see if we could actually find things that made us happy every day.   To be honest, I did...
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Loving the skin you're in...

It is 7.40am.   I have just arrived at work and am standing in the toilets applying my makeup.   I get lost staring at myself in the mirror; checking out the flaws in my skin, my open pores, my grey hairs and worse, the snapped and split ends.   I hate my nose and my teeth and the scar across my left cheek that I have had since I was four.   I stand sideways on and check out the flabby bits around my middle.   I wish my bum was a bit more rounded and that my pregnancy tum would start to go down.   It is still a little swollen and tender at times, but I only had a c-section nine months ago;   I keep forgetting. For as long as I can remember, I have been terrified of what people thought of me, thus hating myself at the same time – my adolescence is haunted by a need to please others rather than pleasing myself and still never getting the recognition or the acceptance I so desperately craved.   With some, I did whatever they asked of me and ...
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Frosterley

I have just been having a quick look through my Notes App on my iPhone and found a little entry from 9th October 2012.  It was a day we went to Frosterley in Weardale and it was a gloriously sunny day.  I hope we get some lovely weather so we can go and enjoy a picnic there again - this time, with our beautiful Seth...     A little bit of paradise no more than 20 miles away from home.  Weardale has probably some of the most beautiful scenery/landscape you could imagine.   The sun is warming.  The breeze is lightly refreshing and the babble of the river is wonderfully calming.  I leave my worries at home and enjoy one of our last days of summer, listening to Jacob's enthusiastic gibbering and his Daddy's laughter as they plodge in the river and make splashes with little pebbles.  If only life was always this beautiful and simple.  Simply beautiful.     HLW x   
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When the Socially Unacceptable becomes Acceptable

We’re now in 2014.   For the past 10 to 15 years or so, we have seen the World of Celebrity explode.   From cult sitcoms to reality TV shows catapulting contestants into the limelight, we have come to love our celebs, loathe them, envy them, emulate them or just plain despair of them at times.   We follow their every move, from endless marriages, weight gain and loss to even rifling through gossip mags to see what they have had for lunch that week.     These celebrities share their every move, whether they want to or not.   We know every little detail about them.   I mean, for example, how many times has Kerry Katona been declared bankrupt?   Why would anyone need more than one autobiography, Katie Price?   Do they share too much and are we just far too eager to know too much?   Is it because of this media-obsession that we judge those and each other a little too easily?   It seems that with this celebrity/reality cro...
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