I have something to share with you all. I’m pregnant with baby b number 2! This time we got pregnant so quickly, in fact within a month of trying. Why couldn’t it have been this easy first time around?
It took us 3 years to get baby girl. We are so excited and I still cannot quite believe it, but then reality hits when my head is down the toilet for the third time that day.
This time I have been struck down by horrendous morning sickness. I have been sick many times each and every day for about 7 weeks. It’s tiring and draining, but I have found my inner strength from somewhere to get up carry on with work and keep everything the same for baby girl.
She has taken to holding my arm or holding my shirt when I’m being sick. It’s so cute. She will be around 2 years and 2 months old when baby no 2 arrives. I’m very pleased with that age gap.
This week I have been reading a really interesting book, called Stories for Homes Volume 2. A collection of poems and stories all relating to “home”. What’s good about this book is that all proceeds go to charity.
My first thoughts were that everyone calls home a different place don’t they? Or is a home anywhere family is?
So I’m intrigued to find out about everyone’s different home’s. Obviously where I live is home, but also I call Cornwall my home. After I’ve been away I love to come home, and feel settled after I have crossed the Tamar back into Cornwall.
It’s unmistakeable – the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness is upon us. It’s always a pleasant time of year, with cooler daytimes and red leaves, but we all know that winter is not far behind and if you live in one of the 1.6 million UK households that use home heating oil, you’ll also know that it’s time to fill your tank.
We’re all familiar with the traditional boiler breakdown on the coldest day of the year so far – it’s a cliché, almost. This happens, however, because people don’t prepare their boiler for the sudden demands they’ll be putting on it when the mercury drops. If you use heating oil, you’ve also got the tank to think of. It’s not just about filling it, it’s about making sure there’s no cracks, no water in the system and some other checks.
As Autumn leaves us, Winter is coming (sorry I had to put that I’m a huge Game of Thrones fan!) and it’s time to get your home cosy for Winter. Winter is such a fabulous time of the year. You have crisp cold mornings and dark cosy evenings. Perfect for snuggling up by the fire with a good book and a hot chocolate.
Of course Winter also means Christmas. For us this is family time, when my older sister comes over from Canada and we have huge get togethers. Eating lots of food, playing silly games and having a laugh. That’s what it’s all about.
I have come up with 5 ways to make your home cosy this Winter, and to help you get ahead before the Christmas plans come into place.
Hello and welcome back to my stop on the blog tour for Trust Me by Zosia Wand. I have been catching up with my reading lately after being ill (that will be for another time!), and I’m glad that by reading Trust Me has picked up my spirits and gave me that love of reading back.
Before we come to my review, I want to tell you a little bit about Trust Me.
Here is an extract from The Stories She Tells by LK Chapman
‘Not again,’ Sadie said, ‘please, not again.’ Michael looked down at the pregnancy test in her hand, and saw that it was negative. He sat down beside her on the bathroom floor, and put his arm around her awkwardly. ‘Sadie…’ he said. ‘No!’ she shouted, the suddenness and loudness of her voice taking him aback. She shoved his arm away. ‘No,’ she said again quietly. Michael gave up. He knew how desperate she was for a baby and never had a clue what to say when she got a negative result. When he tried to talk to her he usually ended up putting his foot in it and making things worse. Sadie put the test down on the floor and rested her forehead on her knees, her hair falling forward and brushing her bare legs. It was six-thirty in the morning and she’d done the test the second she got up, so she was still wearing a baggy old t-shirt of his that she wore in bed. When she’d called him into the bathroom to wait for the result she’d looked glazed with sleep.