love those cupcakes

Lately in verbs

Watching  (nay, binge watching) You on Netflix.  Apparently, I've read the Caroline Kepnes' book but can't for the life of me remember doing so.  Anyway, a bookshop, New York, yoga, what's not to like?  Well, maybe the psychopathic stalker.

Treating myself to a piece of art.  A teeny weeny painting measuirng just 2 ins.  A wintry scene, naturally.  Sweet, yes?

Reading from the book pile (added to after visits to the charity shop and Waterstones).  The current book at bedtime (keeping me on my toes as I try to keep up with who's who or rather who's in who) is number 6 of 2019.  According to the sidebar, I read 42 books last year.  I was thinking of setting a reading target for 2019 but, you know what,  it ain't a competition. 

Enjoying a Burns Night supper (with peas alongside the neeps and tatties because there has to be something green on the plate) a day late.  There's not a drop of Scottish blood in either of us (as far as we know) but I'm rather partial to a homemade vegan haggis.

Familiarising myself (or at least attempting to) with the bells and whistles of the new car.  At the end of last year, the mister made the decision to stop driving (as you may remember, he has his problems which are currently being further investigated).  His tank of a vehicle was too big, my cute runaround too small so, taking a leaf out of Goldilocks' book,  we went for something in between.....ish. We're also familiarising ourselves with the workings of the local bus service as I'd prefer not to embark on a new career as full time taxi driver.  Let's just say one of us is faring better at this than the other but it's early days.

Testing the car's fancy hill start assist system on an incline at the coast.  I think I prefer a good old hand brake.

Baking brown sugar chocolate chip cookies because there were no eggs for a cake and the biscuit tin was empty.

Aching in body parts I didn't know I still had after a 7 week (enforced) absence away from the yoga mat.  

Hatching travel plans (nothing too adventurous).

Spotting a clump of snowdrops in the front garden.  Seeing them always reminds me of the time I was a 10 year old in Mrs Whitehouse's class in junior school and we planted snowdrop bulbs.  I got to take the bowl (it was green) home for the Christmas holidays which my dad advised would be happiest in the cool of the musty pantry where he stored the boxes of Daz and Oxydol washing powder for our shop.  Nothing emerged from the compost, which I remember was so disappointing as we'd made a chart to plot the progress of growth.  

Proving I wasn't to blame for the snowdrop non-show with a pot of soon-to-be crocuses.  Just call me the corm whisperer.

Caffeinating.  Always.

Appreciating quite a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

Januaryish

Halfway through the first month of the new year and it's not been at all winterish (not at all tempting fate). 

My favourite season of all and yet it's unseasonally warm.  Where's the frost?  The snow?  It's not been cold enough to warrant wearing the new winter coat, which is hanging in the wardrobe with its tags still attached.   I mean, the bin men did their rounds last week wearing shorts (council issue but still).  And already the days are visibly lengthening.  

But I'm not moaning (well, not much), which leads very nicely to a ta-da! launch of my word for 2019.

I've always been a new year, new me kind of person, though I long since ditched the practice of setting new year's resolutions as they were inevitably broken all too soon.

I'm also my father's daughter.  My dad gave me so much, including my height, a love of books, baking and gift giving, the bump in my nose, the tendency to perfectionism and to always think the worst and dwell on all the bad stuff (unlike my mother who lived her life believing in the power of positive thinking). 

Now, I realise that none of those things is likely to change much.  I may be shrinking as time passes, the oven might not be as hardworking as it used to be, it takes longer these days to finish the current read and oh, how easy is it to focus on what didn't get done, what didn't go to plan, what turned out to be so far away from what was expected or hoped for.

But I want this to be the year when, however crap the situation I might find myself in, however trapped and seemingly powerless over the direction of travel, I make the effort to stop and take the time to focus on the positives, however small, in the ordinary everyday.

So, my guiding word for the next 12 months is appreciate.  

Life is punctuated by major challenges and disasters, disappointments and events that disrupt the equilibrium, consume your thoughts and make you downright miserable.  And who knows what might be lurking around the corner?

All the more reason, then, to appreciate and savour the little stuff, the things that get taken for granted or overlooked or hidden amongst everything else that grabs centre stage.

Yes, I'm ready to give it a go.