Yesterday, we fancied hot cross buns. Realising of course, this being Easter Sunday, that all of the shops were shut, I decided to make my own.

Once upon a time, I was a blogger, a food writer, a travel writer, a ghost writer. I travelled endlessly, was Contributing Ed to a cruise magazine, wrote two cookbooks for someone who got to pretend she wrote them (and for ages afterwards, I’d see her sharing a recipe on Instagram with ‘my recipe for… this or that’ and used to chuckle to myself (I never minded, I knew what I was signing up for). But, dusting down my old kitchen notebook with ‘English Mum’ on the cover that was gifted by some brand or other, I was suddenly aware that whipping up a batch of HCBs doesn’t come naturally to me any more. The blog and all my own recipes have now gone forever as I recently decided to stop paying the hosting fee. Now, I’m powering away in a career in the NHS, entrenched in improving my lung cancer pathway, trying to make things better for people, doing what seems like endless appraisals and meetings, and planning for more resident doctor industrial action at work, and all that seems a million years ago.

Once upon a time, I was - so I thought ha - happily married and had been for more than 25 years. Now, I’m ridiculously, helplessly, hopelessly in love with someone absolutely wonderful. Turns out I wasn’t happy after all. Now I’m really, genuinely happy happy: valued, loved, supported, noticed… all that good stuff.

Once upon a time, I lived in a normal 3 bed house in a little estate with a postage stamp garden that was patchy lawn and nothing else. Now, I live in the prettiest, wonkiest 500 year old cottage - she is occasionally grumpy and slams the odd door or turns the shower on, but generally, I think she’s happy to have been brought back to life, and we love her endlessly. I went out to look for the moon the other night and was struck by how pretty she is with all her twinkly lights and glowy windows, even with the horrid 1980s loft conversion (we recladded it with wood, it was worse with tiles, if you can believe that).

Once upon a time, I never ventured outside apart from occasionally picking up the poo. Now, we have a lovely garden full of flowers, wildlife, and hopefully again this year - fruit and vegetables! My first job every morning is to go out and say hello to all our flowers, and the fat pigeon who nests in the prickle bush and eats all our pea shoots.

Anyhoo, enough navel gazing. I have exciting life updates:

We finished the path! Honestly, it nearly killed us, J has a really bad back and I think I’ve got housemaid’s knee, but we managed to do it all with bricks snaffled free off Facebook Marketplace, and a couple of bags of sand. We’re flipping delighted with it, have a massive sense of satisfaction and saved ourselves a couple of grand into the bargain. Yes it’s wonky, but isn’t everything around here.

Also, the tulips are coming! I know I’m new at this gardening stuff but honestly, I didn’t know that they don’t always come back every year. I might not have spent quite as much money on them had I known! I had planned to plant them in drifts of colour, but then after I sorted them, the wind blew them all off the garden table, so there are a few drifts but then it all kind of dissolves into chaos.

Also, the pelargoniums arrived from Fibrex Nurseries Ltd, and they smell amazing. I had to cut these flowers off to help the plant grow stronger, but they smelt like ginger and sage so I kept them and put them in a tiny ink pot that I dug up in the garden.

We went to Copenhagen for my birthday! I’ll do a separate post but it was fab. It’s pretty, spotless, the food is amazing, the people are lovely and VERY forgiving of you strangling their lovely language, and I got some beautiful Georg Jensen earrings for my birthday (oh and I found out it’s pronounced ‘gyo yensen’ just so’s you know!)

That’s it, I think you’re up to date. Oh and I did make the hot cross buns (well, not cross buns because I couldn’t be bothered with that bit). And they weren’t bad at all. Mama’s still got it :)

Happy nearly last day of January (for those who celebrate) and welcome to this month’s spoonfuls. I’ve got some time off. This has been enforced, as our annual leave calendar runs from 1st April and I have a ridiculous amount of leave to take (the NHS might get you to do three jobs but hey at least the holiday is generous). I got The Email politely inviting me to use up my leave, so here I am, reluctantly, worrying about how much work is piling up while I’m away, with absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Anyhoo, I decided to frame it as a bit of self care time, so I’m doing nice things like having long, ‘everything baths’ (I think that’s the phrase - haven’t actually had one yet but I’ll get around to it), wandering up to the fruit and veg market on the Manor Waste (more of this later), cute coffees (I’m socialising-averse, but bumped into a lovely ex-colleague so had a catchup over a latte), baking, long walks with the doggo, minor cottage upkeep and some stuff that was well overdue like getting my hair cut and going to the optician. My eyesight is shocking. I got told off for everything including using cheap +2 reading glasses (completely wrong) and my ridiculous screen time. I was thoroughly rinsed of £180 for some special ‘super digital’ glasses that allow you to go directly from screen to notebook seamlessly (apparently these are not bifocals - perish the thought - but sound very similar to me). When I tried these on, the assistant handed me another Marc Jacobs pair to try and I said ‘oh no I’ve already got these’ which was quite embarrassing seeing as I’d just admitted to using the crappy +2s. They’re still in my work bag somewhere. I must hunt them down. I like these though (should prob learn to use filters to soften my ridiculous pursed lips expression but hey ho):

I read this article about why the frazzled Englishwoman interior is an aesthetic to embrace and I think we might accidentally be doing it. Especially the half drunk cups of tea by the bath and the ‘artfully undone’ old cottage interiors ‘layering texture colour and pattern’. Generally, apart from a ticking stripe and a gently embellished cushion or throw, I’m a bit pattern averse, but this reminded me of a conversation in our group chat, when my friend Laura - she of the incredible crochet skills - mentioned that she’d bought a FB Marketplace bargain chair with a bit of a ‘polarising pattern’. It reminded me that we also bought a completely mad chair in the sale just before Christmas, thinking it would sit an extra person and we could cover it with a rug, but now it’s up in our bedroom, and I’m kind of attached to it.

Sometimes I wish I was on Facebook (not really) but I’m just imagining the posts that have sprung up due to the new, illustrated town map that’s been installed up on the Manor Waste (that’s our town square bit - apparently it’s a throwback to medieval days when the lord of the manor owned all the land, but the ‘waste’ was a spare bit that he wasn’t using so he let the peasants have it for grazing livestock or holding markets). You can see our cottage here next to the ‘M’ of market. I think quite cleverly so that you can see it, everything has been turned round so it’s facing the viewer, but obviously being whimsical, it’s not strictly geographically accurate, because actually our next door attached neighbour (they’ve removed her Wisteria - she’ll be fumin’) is closest to the Manor Waste, and our other neighbour (red door) appears nowhere near us. Spin both round and they’d be correct, but I’m sure the peasants will be revolting over this one. Still, I love it, and we’re flattered as hell to get in the pic. I’m currently trying to track down the artist as I’d quite like a print.

Dinner-wise there have been some ups and downs recently. Last week I laboured practically an entire day over a Dishoom date-night dinner for the beloved. The house black dal is actually TO DIE FOR but the urad dal take several steamy hours to cook so I did a kind of knock off version using green lentils (also unexpectedly delicious) as well as their incredible chicken ruby. The makhani sauce with this is honestly SO worth the effort. It might not look like much but oh what a plate of deliciousness.

Jamie made a stunning roast chicken dinner then an equally stunning chicken and veg soup for the week with the bones. We had enough for a curry too. SO YUM. I cannot advocate enough for a high quality chicken though. Our local butcher is excellent and their local, free range, slow grown chickens go some way to assuaging my ex-vegetarian guilt. Also, can’t you tell Jamie used to be a chef. The plating is always just so.

Then I tried an Italian dinner which didn’t work quite as well. I did a carbonara which was fine, but I wanted to make focaccia, and whether it was the slightly old yeast (I’ve chucked it now), or the bread flour not being fresh, I have no clue, but the bugger wouldn’t rise, not even in front of the fire under Lyra’s watchful gaze. Jamie ended up legging it up the shop for a ciabatta to have with our burrata and tomatoes, which was honestly just fine too in the end.

Ooh and I must tell you about my sustainable bargain. would be impressed. I spotted a (normally hugely expensive, like several hundred £) Me & Em high neck cashmere jumper on Vinted for £30 as it was bobbled and had a couple of holes. I made an offer, secured the goods, then reached out to The Seam, who put me in touch with a lovely maker called Chantal. You basically agree a price between you, send the jumper via your local Evri store, then it’s delivered back to you mended. Honestly, Chantal is a miracle worker. The jumper has come back cleverly darned and basically as good as new.

And I think that’s all the news I’ve got to impart. Oh, apart from sad tidings that our lovely elderly neighbour, the one that gave us the bird bath, has died. He was adorable, a bit of a flirt, our unofficial site foreman during the renovations when he’d wobble out with his stick and talk to us in the sunshine, and we’ll miss him a lot. Rest well, sweet man.

So I got nominated in a quiz thing by the lovely Louise (massive fangirling moment there - I love Louise’s style ethos and her writing), and it took me back to old school blogging on WordPress when we all used to tag each other in things like this all the time. So Louise’s 11 (tricky!) questions are:

1. When (and doing what) do you feel your most authentic self? I think with my friends, who know me inside out and back to front, and there’s never any judgment even if I’m a massive knob, and also with Jamie. I had a conversation with the fab recently about how inevitably, after you’ve been married to someone a long time (I was with my ex 25 years), one person tends to bend more to fit the other, and how you can really lose yourself. And then, this new person came along who wanted to know ALL about me, and loved every bit of me, even the weird, quirky bits, and actually embraced the weirdness and the me-ness, and now, well, I’m more me than I’ve ever been.

   

2. And conversely, when (and doing what) do you feel most like an imposter? Oh gosh, all the time at work. My work involves BIG budgets and my maths is bloody awful. I’m getting more confident, I know I’m good at my job, and I have a great boss who maintains that everything can be learnt, but sometimes I’ll be in a big important meeting with big important people and just think honestly, what on earth am I doing here?

3. What is something you own that is impractical but you can’t let go of? Probably our 500 year old cottage! It’s impractical in every way: it’s tiny, it leans downhill, leaks, creaks, has the steepest, most dangerous stairs that I’ve fallen down several times (even the dog has fallen down them), and is an absolute money pit, but it is ours, and we adore it with all our hearts. See also, grumpy, creaky, leaky old whippet. Can’t let go of her either :)

   

4. Which food do you hate and wish you liked? I wish I liked seafood a bit more. I love the thought of it and can just about do prawns, and maybe crab, but oysters, clams, etc… nope. It’s a texture thing.

5. Which pair of footwear (or any other life essential) would you save from a burning building? I’m actually not hugely a shoe person. I have some nice trainers that my son bought me that were a Puma/Anthro special edition, so probably those? I live in wellies or an old pair of chonky boots in the winter and Birkies in the summer, I’m that boring.

   

6. What would you cook for a dinner party? What (if anything) would you buy in, and what would you ask someone else to bring? Now we’re talking… a lovely slow cooked beef and red wine stew, with either Dauphinoise potatoes or nice crispy roasties and some roasted carrots and buttery greens. It’s actually what we had on Christmas day. I guess I could buy in dessert? We don’t entertain very often but last time I think I just baked brownies and served them with some (bought) ice cream, if that counts. Happy for them to bring the wine, especially if it’s my brother who brings REALLY GOOD wine. Once, we cooked said brother and his wife an entire feast out of the Dishoom cookbook. OMG it was good. That black daal takes basically all day. We did naans outside on the Ooni so there was a bit of audience participation too. Fun times.

7. What is something that you consider a luxury and aren’t prepared to skimp on? Travel. My golden rule is that I will never stay somewhere shitter than my own home (not that my own home is shit, I just won’t slum it). And definitely no camping.

8. Have you created a holiday tradition for yourself, friends or family, and what is it? I’m thinking this is holiday as in travel rather than ‘happy holidays’ in the American sense (in which case it’s Boxing Day pie). If it’s travel, then the tradition is above - always stay somewhere beautiful. We’ve just booked Copenhagen for March and I’m ridiculously excited as we’re staying in a gorgeous old hotel in Nyhavn.

9. What is your favourite mode of transport and why? I actually don’t mind flying, although do it a lot less now and am more conscious of my carbon footprint. When I was a travel writer I used to love a long haul flight: cosied up, couple of drinks, a film or two, notebook, no disturbances… I’ve always wanted to do a romantic old train journey though, like the Venice Simplon Orient Express.

   

10. Which trait of yours do you most admire in yourself? And which do you most admire in others? I am an empath (this, by my friend is amazing), so I pick up on people’s feelings, which means generally I’m understanding and can make other people feel comfortable. In others I admire confidence (not brashness), and the ability to shut the hell up if you don’t know what you’re talking about. Kindness above everything.

11. What do you hope will be your legacy? I have two enormous, amazing sons, both of whom are loving, articulate, kind, thoughtful and compassionate. I certainly don’t believe that I was an amazing mother to my children growing up. However, under a lot of pressure to do otherwise, I have always had honest, informed conversations with them: consent, drugs, death… you name it. Whether they choose fatherhood or not, I just know they’ll do good things.

    

So I’m supposed to nominate 11 people, but I don’t even know 11 people that well on Substack and most of them are far too important to wally about doing a quiz for me, however I’ll give it a bash: (thoughtful, seasonal slow living), (gorgeous gardening content, intelligent essays on many things), (essential food follow) (beautiful style, heavenly sea-adjacent content), (style inspo, great interiors writing too), (beautiful, soulful words, followed her for years), (musings on 40+ life from a clever, sweet, super successful PR and businesswoman), (heavenly flower inspo!), (food, family - honest and thoughtful diaries), (FAB for garden tips), (lovely writing on life, happiness and more).

And now, I’m supposed to ask my own 11 questions:

1. What three words would you use to describe your style?

2. What’s your go to solo girl dinner (or boy dinner)?

3. What brings you joy?

4. What are you doing when you feel at your best?

5. Tell me about the last book you read

6. What’s your favourite word (mine is currently sagacity**)?

7. Maximalist or minimalist?

8. Tell me three goals for 2026

9. … and something you want to leave behind in 2025

10. What’s your favourite restaurant (or the nicest place you’ve ever had dinner)?

11. What does success look like to you?

Honestly, I don’t expect people to waste their time doing this, but I will say that all these questions make great journal prompts if you’re into that! I’m well nosy so would love to know how you would answer. Much love xx

*‘Which would you rather be if you had the choice: divinely beautiful or dazzlingly clever or angelically good?’ My favourite quote from LM Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables.
**having or showing keen mental discernment/good judgement

As you know, I always have many thoughts (I actually did think that’s what I should call this Substack but it’s already been taken), and I have many MANY thoughts about NY resolutions (unsustainable), life planning (hmm), manifestation (kinda like this, but I don’t really have anything to manifest)… all that stuff. HOWEVER, in the batshit madness stream of consciousness scribbly drivel (potential Substack name!) that is my journal, I started to jot down a few things I’m thinking about and thought that I would share them with you.

Reading: this is a big one for me. I’m determined to read more more books this year, (I’ve already finished Home by India Knight. Fabulous), both fiction and non-fiction, because intelligence is sexy, non? Last year I dipped into philosophy, but stalled quite quickly. I started with Simone du Beauvoir but oof. Heavy. I then went on to Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder, which is supposed to be a great entry level book into philosophy, but am struggling a bit with this too - it's just slowwww. Began to think I was just a bit thick, tbh. Still, onwards and upwards, eh. I have a huge TBR pile, including some classics (anyone ever read Sartre - will I crash and burn again?), some foodie stuff like Anna Del Conte and Elizabeth David and some other bits. I’ll report back on this.

Authenticity: this post by Gabrielle on authenticity is absolutely brilliant. I loved ‘being authentic doesn’t mean caring less about how you show up in the world, it means caring more about showing up as yourself’.

Le Secret Club

How to be more authentic

I was sitting on the couch flipping through the magazines I got Christmas morning, a little tradition my husband and I started a few years ago, and I remember feeling genuinely excited to read the interview with Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu in the December issue of…

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5 months ago · 205 likes · 9 comments · Gabrielle Dubois Meloff

Know Thyself

I had to interview for my own job recently (I know, I know…), and one of the questions was ‘what’s your worst trait’ and I know I’m incredibly reactive and have a hatred of (what I perceive to be) unfairness. I read somewhere that the best thing to do is work out what it is that pushes your buttons, then you’re a bit prepared and can take a breath first if something happens. I’ve already learned at work to wait and consider before reacting.

Case in point, we were invited for coffee with our neighbour on NYE, and although reluctant as, well, let’s say she’s lived there a long time and was generous with her opinions on our refurbishment, Jamie said we should go, be neighbourly, blah blah. Well. It turned out to be a discussion about how she could hear every word! of our family at Christmas (laughing! How dare we?) and asking that we do something about the walls between us. Our beautiful, lathe and plaster walls! I was fuming and blaming work, marched home, simmering about how her stupid dogs bark all day! at the squirrels and we never say a word and she has fake plastic fires! in her fireplaces when we have bankrupted ourselves doing up this place sympathetically, while Jamie stayed to discuss it with her. The injustice! We never play loud music and generally don’t even have the TV on (she even said she never usually hears us). He texted me and said ‘put some music on loud’, which I did, and when he came back he said he couldn’t hear a thing. The whole thing really upset me. I felt intruded upon. Violated.

HOWEVER, with the benefit of a couple of days to calm down, I know that yes, I’m reactive. Jamie, who is generally a much nicer person that I am, did say that yes, soundproofing with lathe and plaster can be a problem, and we know that our builder at the time wasn’t the greatest, and yes, we’ll look into it. Just that. Calm, considered, measured. While I silently boiled with rage. Lesson there somewhere.

On that subject, one of my favourite diary prompts is ‘who am I?’ and I feel like every time I attack this one, I discover myself a little more. The challenge is allowing that discovery to unfold gently, measured in spoonfuls (ooh - Substack name!) rather than dramatic shifts, if you see what I mean. Even at 50 I’m still going ‘ooh, I really like that! That’s me!’ to things I read.

Boundaries

I read recently ‘if you continue to live up to certain expectations, then people will continue to have those expectations of you’. This is especially true in my job. If you’re good, people will ask you to do things. And then the trouble is, if you keep helping, all of a sudden, this becomes your job too. I will continue to do my job well - helping people aligns with my values. But I will remember that my work/life balance matters too.

Confidence: linked to the above, I suppose, but I manage several medical specialities and I do it flipping well. I’m not afraid to change things if I think we can do them better for the patients/staff and I think I’m an okay boss (they often say nice things, so that’s good right?). Time to believe it a bit more.

Fresh air: I’m not going to put pressure on myself by saying X,000 steps, but more runs, more walks, more activity (maybe this will also calm my propensity to unfairness rage, who knows?). My job is desk/screen based, but sometimes from home so there’s nothing to stop me jumping up and whizzing around the block with the dog between meetings. I shall do more.

Thrifting! I’m trying, slowly, to rid myself of everything matchy matchy, and to curate (wanky, sorry) a little collection of things that feel a bit more at home in an old cottage than glossy Habitat plates. I like old Denby and enamel bits, olive green, deep rose pink linen, cocoa, mustard… more of this.

Similarly with my wardrobe. I don’t buy many new clothes, in fact I’m struggling to think of the last item I bought, but still buy too much on Vinted, and too much house stuff. I have ENOUGH. I’m seriously considering another Rule of 5 year (funnily enough after drafting this, wrote about relaunching it for this year!). I really enjoyed it, and felt that it helped my style evolve (it’s easier to work out your own style when you’re shopping your own wardrobe - I lean towards ‘slightly scruffy Toast model’ ideally).

So yeah, that’s it really, all the li’l spoonfuls of stuff being stirred around my head: simplicity, slowness, peace, a quieter way of life, generally, baking, journalling, reading, deep conversation…

I wish all this for you too (if it’s what you want, of course, you might want to go out clubbing, and that’s ok too). Happy New Year xx

Pull up a comfy chair, this might take a while!

January - After finally finishing the cottage renovations, 2025 was the year we really committed to making the garden - generally used as a dumping ground for building stuff - into a bit more of a sanctuary. This photo actually makes me realise how far we’ve come! Read more about the garden here.

In February, we had a big ol’ friend catch up at Erica’s in Glastonbury. We’ve been friends since our very first Disney trip back when we were all ‘mummy bloggers’ something like 17 years ago. Do they still exist, even?

In March, we flew to New York, where we committed to seeing and doing absolutely everything. With hindsight, this was probably a mistake, and we almost a needed a holiday to get over the holiday. Core memories though, and many blisters.

By April, we’d built the raised beds (mostly from wood left over from the cottage), got a concrete base down for the greenhouse (which took MONTHS to arrive) and got the turf down (still wondering whether this was a mistake and shingle would have been better).

In May, things were actually starting to grow, and many mistakes were made!

In June, there was a different sort of garden action in Tuscany, which involved much more Chianti and a lot less effort.

Finally, in July, and probably much too late, the greenhouse arrived! She is beautiful, though.

From then on, it was tomato central. I can’t even remember what this was, but the tomatoes were home grown and I remember being very proud.

In August we were back in Glastonbury for another visit, this time to see the gardens at The Newt, which are SPECTACULAR! Lots of notes were made about next year…

And we got back to yet more tomatoes.

By September we had pears. Only two, but we were still like proud parents!

In October we took a little break to The Wheatsheaf in the Cotswolds. The food was incredible. Hard recommend.

In November, it snowed! And the garden looked magical.

Just as well we’d finally picked the last few tomatoes.

December saw us heading off for another little break, this time the Swan in Oxfordshire. Absolutely beautiful, we also visited Daylesford and felt very very poor.

The kindest, sweetest, loveliest human in the entire world won ALL THE AWARDS at his work’s end of year bash and deserved every single one.

And then we decorated the cottage for Christmas.

And then it was Christmas! Which was so fantastic, this was actually the only picture I took.

Oh, apart from this one of my entirely Substack-related pressie haul: India Knight ’s beautiful book (this killed me, because I had to cope with everyone else reading it knowing that I’d asked for it for Christmas), Kitty Joyas rings recommended by Angharad Jones, The Irish kitchen recommended by Mark Diacono and Byredo fragrance recommended by caitlyn ❤️

And finally, New Year’s Eve, which consisted of the best steak from our amazing butchers (check them out if you’re ever around the Chilterns), with garlicky buttery mushrooms, lovingly constructed dauphinoise potatoes (thinly slicing potatoes is a ballache), braised cabbage and honey and thyme carrots. A feast!

2025? Completed it mate. Did the big boss and everything.

PS: I need a new name for this Substack because I just found out that Sage and Thyme is a training course for NHS staff. Bah.

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas, however you prefer to spend it: either quietly in your pyjamas with a good book and a Chocolate Orange (tempting, see below), or with a raucous bunch playing games and making merry. I love Christmas. Adore it. I love all the planning and the buying little treats and wrapping presents (all done with brown paper which will go on the compost ha), I like the smells (gingerbread, cinnamon, orange - NOT gammon - see also below), the traditions (Boxing Day leftovers pie in our house is always a thing), Christmas songs, and decorating the cottage with twinkly lights, ribbons, holly, ivy and dried orange slices. I love planning our meals and the baking and cooking and maybe even partaking in a little game, HOWEVER I am an introvert so I like to do Christmas completely at home with maybe a trip to the pub, and lots of reading by the fire.

Somehow I have managed to bring up two adorable, funny, gorgeous, (grown up) children but they are huge and gregarious and have enormous feet and insist on having both the telly and the Big Light on at all times. They also love each other - which makes my heart sing - and stayed up until 5am drinking and chatting on Christmas Eve, which meant both were so broken on Christmas day that one had to retreat back to bed when a fried breakfast placed in front of him tipped him over the edge. Our elderly whippet also enjoys having her favourite people here and going to the pub (as long as she’s wrapped in someone’s coat) but may also be introverted as she had a protest wee on the floor on the 27th. Maybe everything got too much.

We had a huge mac and cheese (does nobody call it ‘macaroni cheese’ any more?) with marmalade baked ham on Christmas Eve, which was yum and probably a new Christmas tradition. I normally can’t stand ham or pork (it goes back to a childhood of having an uncle that was a butcher, I’ll elaborate one day), but I don’t mind my own once I’ve got over the smell of it cooking and as long as there’s NO FLAB ON IT WHATSOEVER.

On Christmas Day we got out for a chilly walk (I love looking in the windows and seeing families sat around the table with their silly hats on) and then had a non-trad dinner of slow-cooked beef and red wine stew with local, ethically sourced, sustainable beef (I’m a guilt-ridden former vegetarian, can you tell?) from our fab local butcher, with herby suet pudding, thyme and honey roast carrots, sprouts with chestnuts and delicious roast potatoes. A feast. My big brother came to visit, and before we knew it, we were opening presents at 5pm - I got the perfect array of gifts: skincare, perfume, lovely books and a voucher for some pampering from my Mum.

Boxing Day was pie (usually made from leftover turkey but this year with chicken, chestnuts, ham etc) and a silly dice game called Farkle that my sons taught us , and I’ve realised now I basically took no photos at all. The sign of a lovely relaxing time, I think. I’m now completely over-peopled and back at work, but have taken a few days off over the New Year, which we intend to spend quietly: reading, sipping something delicious, and scoffing all the leftover chocolate. I’ll be journalling and mulling over thoughts, hopes and dreams for 2026 too, something I really love doing.

I find it forever fascinating that after 20 odd years writing, blogging and Instagramming for work, I now do it for fun (well, mostly minus the Instagram - it’s got a bit performative). If you want some cosy reading for this time of year, I loved the following from my favourite writers:

I nodded along with all of this by Eleanor:

A Considered Space

It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

I can’t quite process how quickly December flew by this year, can you? But between the days running at 10x speed, I hope you all…

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5 months ago · 73 likes · 8 comments · Eleanor Cording-Booth

Gorgeous Amber. We went on a cruise together once and she’s definitely just as lovely as her writing:

Amber's Kitchen Diaries

Monthly Musings - December

Every year without fail, Twixtmas leaves me slightly confused. From Christmas Eve through to New Year’s Day, I lose all sense of what day of the week it is and if I am asked to do anything other than cook, chat, eat, go for walks or sink into a long bath, I respond with total bewilderment that anything else could possibly be required of me. It is a very lovely time to pause and reflect on the moments, both big and small, from the year or even just the past month for which one feels grateful…

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5 months ago · 1 like · Amber Guinness

Lovely Louise:

A Sartorial Love Story

Cocooning

One day last week I constructed a giant lasagna, carefully loaded it into my freezer, and then realised I’d just taken my biggest roasting tray out of circulation, so was rather stymied how to proceed with roasting the Christmas veg, and took myself off to the sofa with a cup of tea and some books …

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5 months ago · 72 likes · 17 comments · Louise

And, as always, wonderful India:

Home

A good enough Christmas

I started feeling properly festive on the way to my birthday lunch yesterday. In the car we had the first ceremonial…

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6 months ago · 544 likes · 55 comments · India Knight

Back when I lived in Ireland and my kids were small, I used to write for a food magazine. Not sure they still exist but I won’t name them just in case. They knocked me for about five invoices so I stopped writing for them ha. I wrote a huge Christmas dinner how to guide, which included a cockerel (loads of people at the time would cook them instead of a turkey). Anyway, when I stopped writing for the mag, I carried on doing it on the blog instead. I’m sure I said pretty much the same thing every year, which was don’t panic! It’s just a big roast dinner, but it’s worth reminding you that it’s your Christmas too, so enlist everyone to help, and do as much as you can before the big day. This year, in our tiny cottage with very limited kitchen square footage, we’re opting for a pared back version, but still, if you want all the turkey tips and timings, I’m your woman.

If you’re catering for a couple of vegetarians or vegans, I suggest doubling up on the stuffing (it’s delicious on its own, but I often squish up some veggie sausages and add them into the mix).

My one absolute, must-do for cooking a Christmas dinner is writing a plan. Once you’ve weighed your prepped turkey (or rib of beef or whatever, frankly) and worked out the cooking time (you might get times with your turkey, or Jamie Oliver’s site has a good guide) grab a pen and a notebook. Start with the time you want to sit down to eat, then work backwards, adding in reminders and times for everything: putting the pudding on to steam, basting the turkey, roasting the potatoes, etc. I tend to scribble it out roughly, because I always forget something, then write it out properly in the order I’m going to do it.

Remember, when you’re writing out your timings, that the turkey will keep piping hot for at least an hour, and actually considerably longer.

Do as much prep as you can the night before:

I always buy a disposable foil turkey tray – you don’t want to spend your Christmas evening scrubbing tins. Just recycle it afterwards. Don’t bother washing your turkey – the heat of the oven kills any germs and you’ll just spread all sorts of yuck around your sink.

If you’re cooking a whole turkey, it’s nice to enhance the flavour with a few extras, so cut up a couple of lemons or clementines, squeeze them over the bird and then stick them into the body cavity along with a halved onion and whatever herbs you have: bay and rosemary is nice (I’m not a fan of actually putting stuffing in the turkey). Mush up half a pack of butter with some lemon or clementine zest, salt, pepper and a little chopped rosemary or parsley. Then just squish the butter all over the turkey (if you’re not too squeamish, you can put it under the skin of a whole turkey - don’t worry about breaking it - it’s pretty sturdy). I add a couple of slices of clementine and maybe a sprig or two of rosemary on top too.

If, like me, you favour a turkey crown, then it’s even easier, you just do the butter squishing and decorating bit. You can wrap string around it if you’re worried it won’t stay put.

Once you’ve finished with your enhancements, cover the whole thing quite tightly with foil (don’t buy that ridiculously expensive turkey foil – just overlap the normal stuff), then pop it in the fridge, or if it won’t fit, leave it somewhere cool until you need it – a box in the garage as it’s nice and cold in there, but if we have a sudden warm snap you’ll need to pack a bit of ice around it (it needs to be less than 4 degrees).

Cooking the turkey

Bring the turkey up to room temperature before you start to cook it, or you’ll waste the first half hour or so of cooking time on doing exactly that. If it’s a smaller bird or just a crown, 30 minutes should do it. Then just whack it in the oven. Everyone does it differently - my Mum always used to cover it in foil for the first hour or so, then take it off for the rest of the cooking time. Some people like to keep basting, others just leave it alone. Do whatever you feel comfortable with.

If you’re cooking a whole turkey, check it’s done by grabbing a spoon, then stabbing it with a knife on the thickest part of the thigh (think of it as the fattest bit of the drumstick where it meets the body). If it’s a crown, stab the thickest part of the breast. Collect some of the meat juices with the spoon then tip them onto a white plate. There should be no trace of blood. Or just use a meat thermometer - stab it in the same place - it should be at least 70 degrees C.

Then just get the turkey out of your way, snuggled up in some foil and covered with a couple of clean tea towels until you need it, freeing up the oven for roasties, stuffing, parsnips, etc.

My favourite Christmas sides

Apple, red onion and chestnut stuffing

Having made this a couple of times, I have a few thoughts: firstly, don’t make the breadcrumbs too fine. It helps to add a bit of ‘bite’, so sourdough or baguette crumbs work well. If you’re not veggie, add some finely sliced streaky bacon (it’s actually yum with halloumi instead). We prefer it a little bit drier, so I only add about 100ml of the stock, but go with what you like best.

You will need:

100g butter or plant-based spread
2 red onions, finely chopped
1 dessert apple, grated (don’t bother to peel)
1 small sweet potato, peeled and grated
1 large punnet mushrooms, whizzed in the blender
100g fresh white breadcrumbs – not too fine
180g pack of cooked chestnuts, chopped
A big handful of chopped herbs: sage, thyme, parsley, etc
Squeeze of clementine juice
100-200ml vegetable stock
1 tsp salt and a generous grinding of fresh black pepper

Gently heat the butter in the frying pan and add in the onion (and bacon if using). Fry very gently until softened. Add in the apple, sweet potatoes and mushrooms and cook that just until it’s a bit darker in colour and softened.

Remove from the heat and allow to cool. I make the stuffing in the mixer, but if you’re doing it without one I suggest you just get your hands in there – it’s the easiest way to combine everything.

So now just bung it all together: the cooled onion, apple, sweet potato and mushroom mixture, the breadcrumbs, crumbled chestnuts, herbs and juice, and give it a good old mix. If it seems really dry, add a good slug of veggie stock, but if you’re happy with the mixture, feel free to leave it out. This really depends on how soft you like your stuffing.

Season well (you can fry a teaspoon of mixture if you want to check the seasoning) then transfer to your buttered dish. Decorate with a couple of clementine slices and sage leaves, if you like.

Your stuffing will take about 30-35 minutes (it’s nicer with a crispy top) in the oven at about 190/gas 5 (180 if you’ve got a fan oven) so basically you can pop it in with the roasties. You can also make stuffing balls, and obviously depending how big you make them, the balls will take less time to cook.

For the roast potatoes

If you’ve got vegetarian guests, obviously swerve any duck fat, but apart from that you should be good to go. I chose the biggest, smoothest (easier to peel), floury baking potatoes for my roast potatoes. On Christmas Eve (or even a couple of days before), just peel them, cut into evenly sized chunks and pop them into a saucepan of generously salted cold water. Bring them to the boil, then turn them down and simmer for as long as you dare. Watch them like a hawk – you want them fluffy, but obviously don’t want them to be breaking apart. Drain, leave to steam until cool, then either refrigerate (if it’s the night before) or open freeze them by popping them on a baking tray in the freezer until they’re solid then you can transfer them to a lidded container (or use a bowl covered tightly with foil). They’ll be fine there in the freezer until you need them.

On Christmas Day, make sure the oven is hot, then coat the bottom of a nice big roasting tin with oil (just coat it, I find it a bit gross when they’re swimming in fat). Once the fat is hot, pop the potatoes in straight from frozen (or chilled – it doesn’t matter) for around an hour, basting occasionally until crisp and golden. For added yumminess, chuck in some whole sprigs of thyme or rosemary and a handful of whole garlic cloves too.

For the veggie sides

We love sprouts - just steam them, then cool them down until you need them, then they can be fried with chestnuts and bacon (or no bacon) and herbs.

We love carrots (I love parsnips too , but the other half isn’t keen) roasted with thyme and honey, (some vegans don’t eat honey, so a good swap is maple syrup). Peel and chop carrots (and parsnips) into quarters (don’t go too fine or they’ll burn) and just pop them in the fridge until you need them. On the big day just chuck them into a baking tin, drizzle with oil and whatever sweet stuff you’re using, season with salt and pepper, and bake in the oven. They always take longer than you think – check after half an hour and pop them back if they’re not soft, sticky and gorgeous.

Braised red cabbage

I love sweet, appley, spiced red cabbage and it’s a doddle to do. Just shred, then cook it down with a dash of vinegar, some apple juice, cinnamon and star anise and a chopped apple or two. Add sugar to taste.

Oh, and as always, just remember that if anything goes a bit wrong and something gets burned or forgotten, it’s not the end of the world. Enjoy the day, pour yourself a drink and remember: it’s just dinner. So have a glass of fizz or two, open some pressies (say you love it even if you hate it), enjoy your loved ones (even the annoying ones), eat too much, watch some trashy telly, put a Santa hat on the dog and have a wonderful day. xx

It’s Stir-up Sunday tomorrow! For me, it’s a weekend full of all the things I absolutely love: I’m never happier than when I’m pottering in the kitchen, but add in the fact that this recipe fills the whole house full of gorgeous, Christmassy orange and spice scents and it’s an absolute winner. If you fancy making your own Christmas puddings this year, I’ve added the ingredients list now so you can dash out to the shops if you haven’t got stuff (sorry, probably should have done this last week). I steep the fruit overnight – you could just start really early and do it in one day but remember that steaming the pudding takes about five hours. This year, I’m embracing two of my absolute favourite flavours with a dark chocolate and cherry Christmas pudding. It’s not overwhelmingly chocolatey, but the chocolate just adds an extra depth and bittersweet flavour, and the cherries add a pop of colour and sweetness too.

Dark chocolate and cherry Christmas pudding ingredients

A quick note about ingredients:

As long as you stick to the basic quantities, you can use more or less whatever dried fruit you like. I hate dried peel (did you know it’s made from the devil’s toenail clippings?) but add it if you want, you crazy person. Also, I’ve kept it simple with whole small dried fruit, but if you fancy adding larger fruit like dried apricots, figs or prunes, just make sure they’re stoneless and snipped into small pieces. I use self raising flour because I’m lazy. If you only have plain, remember to add a teaspoon of baking powder. With the booze, I’m using cherry brandy to echo the cherry flavour, but feel free to use sherry, brandy, whisky or whatever else you have. Oh, and don’t forget you’ll need a pudding basin along with some baking paper, foil and string.

Vegan Christmas pudding – another quick note:

If you want to make this Christmas pudding vegan, just substitute your favourite plant based spread, or coconut oil, for the butter, use vegan chocolate, and use a pureéd Bramley apple (or no-egg substitute) for the eggs. If you don’t eat honey, maple syrup or vegan chocolate syrup will do the trick.

Dark chocolate and cherry Christmas pudding

Makes one large, or two small puddings

For the fruit steeping bit you’ll need:

500g dried fruit
200g frozen cherries
1 orange, juice and zest
100ml black tea
100ml cherry brandy
1 cinnamon stick

Dark chocolate and cherry Christmas pudding – day one ingredients: steeping the fruit

Day two (or later the same day):

Wet ingredients:

3 large free range eggs
100g dark chocolate, melted
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp black treacle
2 firm conference pears, grated

Dry ingredients:

100g self raising flour
1 tbsp cocoa powder
100g fresh white breadcrumbs
150g veggie suet

150g dark muscovado sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp mixed spice

Dark chocolate and cherry Christmas pudding – day two ingredients

You will also need:

1 large pudding basin (I use an enamel 3 pint/18cm diameter basin) or 2 smaller ones
Butter
String
Tin foil
Greaseproof paper or baking parchment

Steeping the fruit

So firstly, weigh out all the dried fruit, then pick up little handfuls and let it fall through your fingers, looking out for any woody stems, which are unpleasant to crunch on. Place it all in a large non-metal mixing bowl. Add in the frozen cherries (I got mine from Aldi), zest and juice the orange (or clementine or whatever), and add that in to the fruit as well as the tea, cherry brandy and the cinnamon stick (snap that in half). Stir it all together and inhale all the gorgeous Christmassy scents, then cover with a tea towel and just allow it to steep overnight, or at least a few hours, stirring occasionally if you remember.

Stir the steeped fruit every so often if you remember

Next up…

Firstly, remember to remove the cinnamon stick. Sort the wet ingredients first: beat the eggs and stir them into the fruit mixture along with the melted chocolate, honey, treacle, and grated pears (you could use apple here but I feel pear goes better with the chocolate).

Then, weigh out all the dry ingredients and combine them in a huge bowl. The muscovado sugar can be a bit lumpy so run it through your fingers and disperse any lumps.

Add the dry ingredients and give it a really good stir (get everyone to take a turn to stir and make a wish).

Wrapping the Christmas pudding ready for steaming

Wrapping and storing your pudding

Butter your pudding basin(s) and spoon in the mixture. I pop a little circle of non-stick greaseproof paper on top of the pudding mixture. Then, lay out a piece of foil on a flat surface, slightly larger than the top of the basin, and lay a piece of non-stick greaseproof (baking) paper over that. Fold a pleat into the middle of the two layers. Butter the greaseproof paper, then put that side down onto the top of the pudding. Press down the edges well. Now for my top tip: use a couple of sturdy elastic bands to go round the top – it will keep the seal really tight. I tie over the top of the bands with string just in case they break, and I also fashion myself a little handle across the top to make it easy to lift the pudding out. You can also just use a plastic pudding basin with a lid, but I always feel weird about heating plastic for such a long period of time with my food in it.

The wrapped Christmas pud ready for steaming

How long do you need to steam a Christmas pudding for?

A Christmas pudding this size needs eight full hours of steaming. Usually, I steam it for five hours on the day I make it, then another three hours on Christmas Day.

If you’ve divided this down into two smaller puddings, these will need six full hours of steaming. So, three hours on the day you make it, and another three hours on Christmas Day.

Remember, though, you could also steam it for the full 8 hours (six hours for smaller puds) when you make it, then just microwave it on Christmas Day. You could also do 5 hours when you make it, three hours on, say, Christmas Eve, then again just reheat in the microwave on the day.

Either use a steamer, or just use a big saucepan. Place an old saucer or something heatproof (even a flat, clean stone will do) in the bottom so it’s not sitting on the bottom of the pan (this will also stop it burning if you inadvertently let it boil dry). Add boiling water about halfway up the basin and put the lid on the saucepan. Steam for 5 hours, making sure you go back every so often to top up the boiling water.

Let the pudding cool then store in a cool, dry place (don’t unwrap it!) for Christmas day when it will need to steam for about another 2.5 to 3 hours (don’t worry if it gets a bit longer, it won’t ruin it).

When it comes to flaming your pudding on the day, carefully warm some vodka (I know, contentious) in a ladle over a low heat, then set it alight and pour over your pudding. Be especially careful if you want to dramatically walk into the room with your flaming pudding (I say this from bitter experience). Finally dollop on your preferred topping – we like brandy cream, but go with what you love.

Flaming the pudding

I’ve also been retreating into things that soothe and uplift me: I forced myself to go out for a run (highly recommend, even if you run/walk), we took some time off and had a night away in the Cotswolds (lovely) and we’ve spent time cooking, pottering in the garden and doing a few bits in the cottage.

On imperfection

So you refurbish a semi-derelict cottage. You lift the roof, give life and love to these old beams, put in a kitchen and bathroom, keep everything that you possibly can and replace sympathetically where you can’t, then just when you think you’ve finished, you walk upstairs to your office and find several holes where the plasterboard fixings have popped because it was windy. Then the shower leaks through into the hall ceiling, then the floor in front of the hearth starts squeaking, and then something falls off a windowsill and makes a massive chip in the beautiful old cream radiator. I think we’ve got rats in the garden and something has dug up our lovingly planted potatoes.

And yes, I’m feeling a bit philosophical at the moment, but it’s just like life really. I fix one problem at work, but then the next day four more pop up. One family member seems happier, but then another one needs you all to rally round a bit… and so it goes on. And so I’m embracing the imperfection. I’m going to leave the chip in the radiator, and every time I look at it I’m going to think hey, it’s not perfect, but it’s still a beautiful little cottage where we live very happily and that this, surely is a metaphor for something bigger, isn’t it? We can spend our lives chasing perfection and trying to do it all, or we can sit with our slightly wonky, but beautiful lives, that have a few cracks, have a cry and a glass of wine or too, dust ourselves off and carry on.

This week’s things…

Home things

We painted the beams and WOW it worked really well. So basically you just paint on a layer of cream chalk paint (we used Frenchic The Lazy Range in Creme de la Creme), then once dried you go over it with brown wax (Frenchic Browning Wax) and honestly the results were amazing. Our lounge is pretty dark, and the very dark beams added a slightly oppressive touch. The lightness is subtle, but has definitely done the trick.

Garden things

So yeah, something has been digging in our potatoes (squirrels? Maybe even rats), but weirdly not eating them, just chucking them about. I have my heart set on digging up my own potatoes for Christmas dinner, so I need to work out how to protect them. Otherwise, the garden is looking pretty cute right now. I’ve also bought about a million bulbs (mostly thanks to the devilish who is a really bad influence) and need to put them in - but will they survive our furry invaders?

Food things

I highly recommend following Jess Rose Parr on Instagram for home inspo and also for great food ideas. These quick creamy lemon chilli butterbeans were delicious (even if my frozen stock did turn out to be lamb and not chicken):

Other lovely things

We went to see a band. In London! I hate this sort of thing usually - way too peopley - but Larkin Poe were incredibly good.

’s beautiful new Christmas book. I’m going to buy it for everyone - so gorgeous and it’s making me so excited for Christmas!

And lastly - Burford Garden Centre, specifically their Christmas displays. Just amazing.

I think that’s it. Have a lovely rest of the weekend xx

In our little witchy WhatsApp group we’ve been discussing life editing a lot lately. I’m not sure how it started, maybe when Laura mentioned ‘Marie Kondo-ing the f*ck out of her life’ (side note: is Marie Kondo still assessing what sparks joy, or has she retired and turned into a hoarder or something - I’m sure I saw an article about her giving up tidying). Plus there’s the ongoing conversation about social media - how Facebook has become really ugh (gave that up a while ago - too many people talking about St George’s flags and Farage. Just no). And, I guess, just a general musing around what we all want our lives to look like.

This journal prompt: What’s important to me? What do I want? Who do I want to be? is a great one to really start you thinking about life editing. This little life is short, and having been given a precious second chance at love and happiness, I’m not about to waste a second. Here’s what I’ve been thinking about:

Down time: I know I always bang on about it, but we both work reeeally hard in quite stressful jobs. Our home life is utterly precious, and October evenings are for fluffy socks, a squishy sofa, a fire, a scented candle, a book, a cuppa and maybe a little sweet treat. I shall not be moved on that.

Talking of books… I’ve been going down a little philosophy rabbit hole recently and really enjoying it. Check out for some fab dark academia inspo and some great reading lists. I’m currently immersed in Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder, which is a great, easy introduction into philosophy. I’ve learned from Caitlin that it’s not about racing through a book, it’s about taking your time to absorb, enjoy and maybe even take a few notes. It’s a great way to switch off and lovely to feel my brain processing something other than waiting lists and staff appraisals.

Values: I’ve written about this before, but certain things are really important to me, like the quality and provenance of the food I eat, what I care about, and what I wear. I’ve made a promise to myself that I’ll adhere to my values much more - shop for food thoughtfully, and slowly edit down my wardrobe until there’s just a core collection of beautiful, sustainable items. I had a massive clear out on Saturday and sold a ton of things, and feel better already.

This week’s things

Home things

In big wonky cottage news, we’ve decided to paint the beams to lighten them up a bit. This includes the frankly terrifying first step of painting them cream, then covering with a layer of dark wax. So far so good. I’ll report back. Not much else going on here apart from a pesky leak in the bathroom, which is currently being fixed. Ooh, and thanks to I decided to try Purdy and Figg and wow - not disappointed, the scents are delicious.

Food things

For date night, we cooked this absolutely delicious cider glazed honey and mustard sausages recipe with M&S plant based vegan British bangers. OMG SO GOOD (sorry about the photo).

I also made Em the Nutritionist’s delicious fluffy dark chocolate orange cottage cheese pancakes (skipped the chocolate because we didn’t have any) on Sunday and they were delicious. We still have an enormous amount of tomatoes so currently cooking tomato EVERYTHING including soups, sauces and pasta, oh and apples in every form.

Random lovely things

A very lovely lady in the town that I sometimes chat to when I’m walking the dog gave me two quinces (no, me neither, but they smell delicious). I also found some treasure for my vase of dried things in the window, and LOOK AT THE SKY!

Garden things

The aforementioned tomatoes are still going crackers. Definitely planting these Indigo Rose ones again, they’re absolutely beautiful and really tasty. We’ve also got loads of apples, beetroot, two whole pears, leeks, and - erm - an awful lot of celery.

And I think that’s me up to date. have a lovely weekend and let me know if you have a go at the journal prompts xx

Home things

Quite apart from the whole fresh notebook/new pencil case loveliness that September brings, ‘tis the season for scented candles (I bought a massive one in TK Maxx which is ‘harvest pumpkin, vanilla nutmeg, cinnamon and sweet brown sugar’), lamps lit and snuggly throws on the furniture. My linen stuff and shorts have gone back in the upstairs cupboard and I’ve brought down my jumpers. Rediscovering these definitely made me think about shopping my wardrobe and creating new outfits (I’m trying for a no-shop September). The dopamine hit without the spend… got to be a good thing.

Food things

Sunday walks are made for roast dinners: slow cooked beef, a proper free-range chicken from our local butcher roasting with rosemary and garlic steaming up the windows, glasses of soft red wine, working our way through the glut of apples for dessert (I’ve already made a crumble and a strudel), pumpkin spice and cinnamon everything..

Garden things

We’re enjoying the last of the summer from the garden: the tomatoes are still ripening; basil, oregano, rosemary and sage are all drying, ready to be added to soups, pasta sauces and roast potatoes. I’ve bought a new notebook from Papier, to start a garden journal (more of this later - I’m going to get some photos printed to record what the garden looks like at different times of the year) and we’re trying our hands at drying seeds for planting next year. The dahlias are still going (although I didn’t like the colours this year - yellow not being really my thing - they were very pretty), and I’ve ordered tulips that are more my style for spring: Brasil, double blooms with copper, brown and burgundy hues, and Nachtwacht, blowsy, peony flowered dark red beauties. We’re planning for next year - a trip to The Newt in Somerset to see our friends gave us loads of inspiration - and hoping that the potatoes we planted for Christmas actually work.

Autumn rituals and habits

I mentioned rituals before - whether that’s journalling to clear your mind before bed, sipping a solo hot chocolate in a café or taking the time to double cleanse and moisturise with beautiful products - rituals are grounding and comforting, so they’re a great way to introduce a tiny bit of self-care into your day. I’ve noticed that, without realising, one of my favourite rituals is pottering in the garden: the deadheading, watering and staking is my own way of switching off and just being in the moment.

So here’s to slow September. Create a new ritual just for you: pick up your pen and start a fresh new page, light the candle (absolutely no saving them for best), pull on a chunky jumper, snuggle up and start a new book from your to read pile (mine is massive - I’ve gone down a bit of a philosophy rabbit hole), bake a cake, visit the farm shop, make some soup, turn off your phone, listen to your body, surround yourself with plants… however you do it, take some time to nurture yourself. xx

We find that when we’re talking about the cottage, we always say ‘she’ or ‘her’. I’ve always thought of her as a slightly eccentric old lady - she’s a little dark and quirky, no angle is quite straight and she leans a little down the hill. There’s beauty in the cracks and the texture: wrinkles, furrows and laughter lines reflecting a life well lived. Oh, but she’s prone to outbursts: slamming the bathroom door is a favourite, also turning on the shower. The dog often leaps up and stares intently at something - apparently the veil is thinner with animals. I wonder what she sees? Generally, though, I feel like she’s pretty pleased to be full of life once more, cleaned and spruced up and mended. She sits happily, slightly wonkily, on the street under her newly shored-up roof with her shiny new chimney pots, smart in her fresh coat of paint. It must have been lonely during lockdown, when her last inhabitant went into a care home, and even when she sighs creakily, there’s a good feeling about the place.

The garden, when cleared of the brambles and overgrown hedges, revealed hidden treasure: a gorgeous old grapevine that bears black fruit, the sun glowing a beautiful deep red through the leaves in the late summer; huge ruffled lavender and tan ‘French Maid’ bearded iris, borage, lemon balm and rosemary, ruffly roses, anemones, sweet cicely, lovage, and fiery red Crocosmia Lucifer dotted through the overgrown beds. The old fruit trees are groaning with apples: cookers, eaters and erm, crabs, and I’m pretty sure she’s pleased with her new-but-old veg beds made of old floorboards.

She lends herself, I think, to kitchen witchery (sublimely outlined below by the perfect ) and if it all sounds a bit woo, you should see me with my bestest, all basically A-grade witches, who routinely draw Tarot cards and get their palms read (I mean, and Sam run and live in Glastonbury, for goodness’ sake, what can be more witchy than that? Last time we were there I was describing the weekend’s spiritual shenanigans of palm reading, spiritual encounters, crystals and Tarot readings to my work wife, Dave, and her reply was ‘wow, you got up to some bibbidy bobbidy boo shit’. Lovely Laura describes herself as being ‘accidentally spiritual’ - in that even though she may not understand it all she’s open minded to everything, which I love.

Even if, like me, you’re not fully woo, elements of the kitchen witch vibe can be supremely comforting: think of making your morning coffee as a ritual to start the day; stirring and baking with intention and love, using home grown herbs, fruit and vegetables; rustic, natural materials, heavy on the candlelight and woodsmoke…

A witchy wishlist:

Wooden spoon set for all that intentional stirring you’re going to be doing (I have these and they’re fab)

Pestle and mortar (you need one that’s got a good amount of rough texture for really smooshing herbs and spices).

A beautiful, handcrafted mug for your morning spiced oat latte. I can’t find mine online anymore. I don’t do novelty, but I will make an exception for an Anthro pumpkin mug. Sadly, the beautiful floral one they used to do (below) is sold out.

Heavenly scents - currently obsessed with Glass & Wick wild blackberry and geranium, or the lavender noir, layered with patchouli and amber is perfectly witchy. Use my code for £5 off.

As Erica says, ‘spirituality gives up hope, faith and a belief in something greater than ourselves, and I don’t think that can ever be a bad thing’. Kitchen witchery, baking with intention, calming rituals, spirituality… Call it cottagecore if you like. I think my eccentric old lady would appreciate that.

PS: you’ll also notice that I’ve had a little rebrand. Sage and Thyme reflects my connection with both the garden and the kitchen, plus sage is the main accent colour in the cottage, so it feels right. PLUS ‘cottage life’ was boring. Okay bye x

I’m the first to eyeroll when people are picky eaters, but fact is, I’ve never really liked pork, as in roast pork or pork chops that much (comes from having a godfather who was a butcher - don’t ask), and since they’ve been available, we’ve always eaten vegetarian sausages and burgers, which have the added bonus that you never get the gristly bits that used to put me off. That just leaves bacon, which I don't actually miss, and will occasionally eat, but sometimes you just really need that salty, smoky, savoury hit in recipes, or just something similar at breakfast. This smoky maple roasted halloumi is a great alternative. It's so easy to make and tastes amazing, whether or not you're a vegetarian.

Side note: if I'm being pedantic, it's maple fried rather than maple roasted, but that didn't sound as good. It also tastes delicious made with honey.

Smoky maple roasted halloumi

1 pack halloumi
1 tbsp maple syrup
2 tbsp oil
1 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp all-purpose seasoning (I use Dunns River)

Slice the halloumi as thinly as you can. Just accept that it's going to break in half down the middle - it always does.

Then just mix the maple syrup, oil and spices together (add a pinch of chilli if you want to add a bit of kick). As with any recipe, this is personal preference, so you can up the maple syrup if you want it a bit sweeter, or just add 1/2 tsp paprika if you want it less smoky.

Place the halloumi slices on a flat dish or plate, then brush with the spiced oil mix, making sure that both sides of each slice are covered. Allow to marinate until you need it (you can easily leave it in the fridge overnight).

When you need it, heat a dry frying pan and fry the slices until golden and crisp (it starts off wet and bubbly, but it cooks off within 2-3 minutes a side). My top tip here is to let it go as far as you dare without actually burning. The crisper the end result, the better it is.

You can add the slices back onto the plate and coat with the remaining marinade too if you like. The result is seriously addictive sweet/salty/smoky chewy goodness.

Once you've cooked the halloumi, it's best to eat it straight away as it can go a bit rubbery when the big chunks are reheated. However, you can definitely chop it up and leave it overnight in the fridge, then use it in stuff like pasta or on pizzas the next day.

I'm presuming you could make a vegan version with plant-based halloumi, but I haven't tried it. If you're not serving this as a bacon substitute, it's brilliant served as part of a full English, a tapas-style small plate dinner, in a salad, mixed through bulgur wheat with roasted vegetables, or even just in a burger with salad leaves, thick slices of tomato and the rest of the marinade mixed with mayonnaise. Yum.

My reply was (obvs): OMG this is a Substack in the making! I feel there are SO MANY bonuses to midlife. And you know I love a list. So here goes:

Being comfortable in your own skin

I know myself. I know I’m an introvert. I’m not big on lots of people or crowds, so I don’t force myself. I’m happiest at home with just my favourite person (and maybe a nice glass of wine).

Elevating the everyday

I don’t need a lot of stuff. But beautiful things make every day nicer.

I’ve journalled for years and always loved a nice bit of stationery. I always write in ink on a good quality notebook - I love Cross ink pens and have several on the go in different coloured inks, and my favourite notebooks are the number 80 from Designworks Ink - they’re A4, lie flat, the paper is nice… they’re my absolute favourite.

Then there’s nice coffee in a lovely mug, my favourite milk, decent sourdough, proper butter - all little treats in the scheme of things, but it’s amazing how they enhance your existence. You know how I feel about lovely smelling things, and use perfume every day (yes, even the spendy ones), and generally have nice wax burners scenting the whole house (I have a Glass and Wick subscription and get delicious smells delivered through the letterbox every month).

A small but great quality wardrobe

I like loose clothes: no tight waistbands, soft silhouettes, quality fabrics… I wear soft joggers or loose jeans if I’m at home, and tailored wool or linen trousers and loafers for the hospital (& Other Stories leather penny loafers are fab and last forever). I wear Birkenstocks all summer, comfy pants (M&S cotton with stretch bikini knickers - just like Stripe and Stare but a quarter of the price and actually I think they last longer - ain’t nobody got time for cheese-wire thongs.

No fuss makeup and skincare

I look after my skin, but I don’t have hundreds of products. I use a simple cleanser, have a nice serum on the go (I like Beauty Pie Niacinamide (get £10 off your first order with my link) or I really liked the Glamfox Rice Niacinamide from TK Maxx that Charlie bought me for my birthday), SPF moisturiser every day - currently using Face Theory Glow C SPF 30 (light, hydrating and smells delicious) - I think I like it more than my long time fave Origins GinZing, a dab of eye cream, tinted moisturiser, then a bit of mascara and Beauty Pie cream blush if I’m leaving the house.

A simple home life

I work bloody hard. So weekends are for lazing in bed with books and endless tea, dinners at our favourite restaurants, pottering in the garden, and maybe a sunny pub beer or two. We love cooking together in the evenings (tonight it’s slow cooked ragu and fresh pasta to layer up on the plate into the kind of laid-back lasagne that we loved on holiday). I love evenings with candles, a crackling fire, glass of wine, my old stinky dog, crosswords and deep discussion.

I guess I’m quite boring really. But it’s a soft life, full of self care, boundaries and happiness, and I love it. I think that’s it. Anything you want to add?

1. Don’t hack a garden back in the winter before you know what you’re doing
   Rookie mistake, I know, but it was incredibly overgrown, so we chopped things. What we should have done was listen to my mother who said to leave everything a year and see what you’re dealing with. Impatience - and overgrown 10 ft rose arches - got the better of us, and we probably did quite a lot of damage. Prime example here were the lilacs. We now know we should gently prune them after they flower. Oops. Ditto apples, which we hacked back about this time last year when they started to go mental and - guess what - all the fruit fell off.

   

   

   

   

   

2. For the love of god, don’t dig

   We dug. I know, I know, but I thought you were supposed to kinda turn everything over with a big spade. Surprise, surprise, I discovered a lot of bulbs. Goodness only knows what we destroyed by doing this, and I was holding my breath to see if some of the things - like the peonies - would still come up. They did. I was lucky. This year we will be mulching only.

   

3. However…
   Dig the bejeezus out of the bed that contains the three cornered leek, and get rid of every darn shred of the stuff. This bed - outside the kitchen window, next to the patio - has turned out to be one of my favourites. With the stinky stuff gone, things popped up, we planted some other stuff - herbs and things - and it’s a big, messy riot of texture and colour to look out on through the (woefully inadequate) trellis supporting my baby Trachelospermum jasminoides.

   

4. Just because a seed tray has 72 holes, it doesn’t mean you should plant 72 seeds

   Yeah. We’ve got a lot of tomatoes. And, erm, celery. Nobody needs that much celery. See also: not sowing all your seeds in one weekend. It’s going to be quality over quantity, and in succession next year. Although, we did just chuck a whole load of mixed seeds in an empty bed in an attempt at a wild garden, and that actually worked quite well. Pity the dog likes to wander in and trample everything really.

   

5. Give things a bit of room

   We crammed our beds full of the aforementioned tomatoes - in the same bed as the strawberries - and of course now they’re completely overcrowded. Oh and another entire bed of broad beans, which then got massively infested with blackfly.

   

6. Plant more than one potato

   Yeah, quite late in the season, after we pulled up the cauliflower (won’t be bothering with these again), we thought ooh we’ve got a spot here - shall we bung that potato in that started sprouting in the bottom of the fridge? And now it’s growing. And I think I’m probably going to clear the broad beans now they’re finished and plant a load more. Hopefully not too late.

7. Patience is a virtue

   It’s now - what - the end of July and new things are still coming up. Some massive leaves appeared in one spot and I was convinced it was a weed, but with my new found experience, I watched and waited and lo - a beautiful thing with great big white trumpets that I definitely didn’t plant.

8. It’s probably best not to buy a greenhouse in July

   Bit late, but there’s always next year (and look how pretty she is)

   

9. Don’t just buy plants and wham them in gaps early in the year

   Because, duh, other, more established things then grow up and completely smother them (I mostly blame Lucy for this because she keeps bloody recommending pretty things. I can’t even find the Sambucus Black Lace that I planted.

   

10. It’s not all bad

    I’m going to end on a high note here - we’ve learned LOADS, discovered a lot about our garden and our gardening style (let’s call it ‘undone’), built a whole veg garden and a patio, planted many things, had some successes as well as failures, eaten stuff we grew ourselves (cauliflower! Broad beans! Courgettes - well, one so far) and although my precious dahlia tubers all died in the shed over the winter, I’ve planted a few new ones. We’ve also learned lots of new plant names and discovered much more about what we like (which, randomly seems to be a lot of purple) and what we don’t like. So yeah, onwards and upwards!

    

Frills and embroidery

I’m currently obsessed with romantic bedlinen. I didn’t think I’d ever be a pink person but I do have touches of it (I think my M&S lampshades are actually red) and I keep seeing dreamy pictures of broderie and frilly bedlinen. I think just a teeny hint of this would look amazing in our bedroom.

Exhibit a: these frankly adorable frilly pillowcases from the Rachel Ashwell bedding collection at Next (also in a beautiful blush pink):

Oh, and these delightful embroidered ones from Wylder at Jarrolds (me neither - you can get these at Tesco too but these ones are on sale):

Stripes

Super cute from Dunelm. Love the cranberry colourway:

Also Dunelm - could actually make this a Dunelm love-in, they have so many lovely things at the moment. J’adore the tie detail and the texture (but also the brand is called Pineapple Elephant! I mean, take my money!):

Scallops

Lovely texture and edging on these cushions from M&S:

Bit spendy but divine from Birdie Fortescue

Floral fitted sheets

If, like me, you don’t really do floral things, a little hint of floral when you turn back the duvet is actually incredibly nice. I think this H&M one is pretty:

And finally… some beautiful ruffly pyjamas to waft around in, as recommended by the gorgeous

Et voila. What do you think? Up for a bit of romance in the boudoir?

B xx

PS this post contains some affiliate links, which means if you buy anything I get a small fee which will go towards fixing my dog’s terrible breath.

After a bit of a debacle picking up the hire car and a somewhat terrifying hour-ish drive out of Florence (with me mostly chuntering ‘on the right, in the right!’ endlessly to myself), we found beautiful Villa Bordoni up a slightly intimidating mile-long single track road winding up through heavenly vineyards and terraces of olive trees.

As the name suggests, our room, Attico, was at the top of a flight of stone steps, and was probably once the servant’s quarters. The whole villa - I think there are around 12 rooms - is stunning: thoughtfully and cleverly furnished with all sorts of antiques and repurposed bits and bobs giving it almost a kind of steampunk meets Italianate elegance with a sprinkle of Satis House (lit ref!) minus the dilapidation and cobwebs. Under whitewashed roof beams, the walls of our room were hand painted with wide watery stripes, with a skylight in the roof, a huge bed with an enormous mirrored (stop it) metal fan-shaped headboard, a cute bathroom tucked into the roof space and bedside lamps made out of chunks of old masonry, by the looks of it.

The outdoor space at Villa Bordoni is dreamy, with lots of lawns dotted with olive and lemon trees, edged with blowsy roses, wisteria and lavender, with dinner (omg the food!) served al fresco on the delightful balcony, and further tables around the courtyard and garden. I fell HARD for the garden furniture, which is vintage French Usine Carré sprung metal (probably worth an utter fortune).

The pool, set amongst fig, lavender and rosemary is perfect, with steps (you can just see them on the right of the pic) leading to hidden pergolas with woven sunshades on iron frames, giving perfect privacy and dappled shade. We spent our days in the shimmering heat, swimming in the cool water, reading and lazing under the shade of olive trees, then retreating to our room, getting ready for dinner and emerging to sip perfect, icy limoncello spritzes and nibble smoked almonds before dinner.

One night, we took a bottle of wine and sat by the pool, surrounded by the heady scent of jasmine, watching fireflies flit through the rosemary bushes and bats swoop overhead as the sun went down. Just absolute heaven.

Before we left, work had been… let’s say challenging, in so much as having to take on two extra departments because of cost cutting is, yeah, a bit of a challenge… so I’d already decided I wouldn’t pay for roaming, and it turned out I only had WiFi by the bar area, which suited me fine. I’d already deleted all my NHS work apps and social media and managed to devour five books over ten days, and write every day in my journal: thoughts, plans, dreams, decisions… oh and lists of things that we want to copy for our garden: rusty metal gazebos covered in tumbling vines, rosemary hedges, lavender, huge terracotta pots overflowing with geraniums, and stone balustrades.

The biggest thing that struck me - apart from the sheer peace and calm, was the freedom I felt from habitual, endless doom scrolling, the NOISE of it all. My best friends and I (all former bloggers - it’s how we met), have been having lots of discussions recently about pulling back a bit from social media (is Substack still social media? Well, everything but this, then), retreating from the drama, the hauls, the brand trips, sponsored posts and ‘look how perfect my life is’ pics. Don’t get me wrong, it’s - in part - how I used to make a living so there’s zero judgment from me. It’s just that our life at home in our little cottage is so peaceful and full of love and calm and kindness, and I feel more than ever that I just want to withdraw into that. My family time is precious and honestly, it’s all the social life I really need. I love my job and it’s integral to my core values: doing good, making a difference, changing things for the better (hopefully), and this holiday made me realise that my life is, well, enough. I had already been mulling over deleting Insta, and now I’m loathe to redownload it. I think I’ll miss updates from my friends, and some of the gardening and cooking content, but I dunno, maybe life is just nicer for me without it?

I’ve got a bloody awful memory. Lots of people can remember their childhood in vivid detail. I only seem to remember a few core memories: a few bits of holidays, some snippets of school… oh and my mind has kindly gifted me with a few vivid bits of some of the really crap bits. These live in my mind, and tend to come to the surface at 3am when I’m running through every stupid thing I ever said/every bad decision I ever made/every bad clothing choice, etc. I’m also blessed with a very busy mind and a galloping internal dialogue, so that’s nice. I journal and write, and that helps. I also have J, who makes everything feel alright, just by, well, being.

Recently, I’ve been reading this brilliant book by Steven Grosz called The Examined Life. I think recommended it. Grosz is a psychoanalyst and the book contains lots of small essays about his past patients: their stories, his observations, their lightbulb moments… all life is here, as they say.

Weirdly, reading this book threw up some BIG feelings for me. One or two of the stories in particular gave me all sorts of feels: memories from my childhood, horrible guilt from past mistakes, stupid body image shit, anger that I just can’t let go of, imposter syndrome… you name it. I’ve never actually had therapy (although my best friend is a therapist so you could say I get it all the time, just for free) but recently, what with taking on more at work, hormones (I know, I know) and general life stuff, I’ve been having what can only be described as ‘a bit of a wobble’.

Obviously the upside of having said therapist friend is that I knew who to call, but the downside is this: can I tell her all my innermost madness/things I’ve never told anyone? Will she hate me? We’ve known each other a long time and she’s very precious to me. Will I ruin our friendship piling all my crap onto her? I called to find out.

Short answer, as it turns out, was no. ‘It’s funny’, she said, ‘people think they are very different/unique/bad, and they hold shame for this. What you learn quickly is that pretty much we’re all the same. We just don’t hear people’s darkest secrets and inner lives’.

So we had a call (a ‘session?’). I talked about things I’ve never ever talked about with anyone, not even her, in my whole 55 years. We discussed guilt, and blame, and forgiveness (both yourself and others), shedding your inauthenticity, growing into your authentic self and woah. After a slightly weird sleep, I walked the dog this morning in the sunshine and felt lighter. And after messaging to make sure she really doesn’t hate me (she doesn’t). I feel ready to move on, be more me, accept some stuff, forgive some other stuff - pen and journal at the ready - whilst simultaneously kicking myself that I didn’t do this years ago. I guess I’m a work in progress (isn’t everyone).

You can read ‘s Substack here, and Sam’s Substack here:

Image: @finnnyc on Instagram.

The lovely recently wrote a beautiful post about her Dad, and it struck a chord for so many reasons. Obviously the main one being that my Dad died and I miss him a lot, but for more complex reasons too - I lived another life when my Dad died. I was still in an incredibly unhappy marriage, yet to find out about my ex’s infidelity (kind of hilariously, an obscene amount of the money he left me went on my solicitor’s bill for the divorce). One of the things I think this has made me do is try not to think about anything at all to do with that time, but that means not thinking about when my Dad died - so I thought it would be nice to revisit the words I wrote then. As Lisa says, we need to keep people that we loved alive in our hearts and minds, so I forced myself to go back and read this, and honestly, he was such a complex character, I thought I would share. You might not be interested, and - just a warning - the topics here are death and grief, but hey, Substack is my writey home now, and it deserves a place here.

Stop all the clocks

Have you seen Trainwreck? There’s a scene in the film where Amy Schumer’s character is giving a eulogy to her father at his funeral. I watched it on a plane and laughed so hard when she said ‘raise your hand if our Dad ever offended you’ and everyone put their hand up. This would literally be me at my Dad’s funeral, I thought. Haha. You never imagine it actually happening though, do you? But then yesterday, at 10.30 am on New Year’s Day 2018, he died, peacefully. This huge, larger than life character, such a force in my life, is no more. Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone…

True to form, when he was admitted to hospital he gave all the nurses a hard time. The first day, we went to see him and he was massively annoyed at being in there – trying to coerce the boys into an escape plot (‘what could they do if you just wheeled me straight out of here? Nothing!) and yelling ‘I don’t see why I have to be in here with all these old boys!‘ while gesticulating at the people in the beds opposite him (he was 82). Also, my favourite: ‘they wanted to help me have a wash! I told them I can do it myself. I said I’m not being FELT UP in the shower, thank you very much’ (this is the version that I can print – the original was much, much more x-rated).

This is how I want to remember him: a feisty, force of nature. He was no doting, yes-man Dad. If he thought we were wrong, he’d be pretty vocal about it. We had times when we argued, and we didn’t talk for a while after he left my Mum. He’d be the first to admit, I think (well, I can’t check now), that he was probably a better Grandad than he was a Dad. Not particularly affectionate when I was a kid, he ‘warmed up’ as a bit as he got older, and his relationship with his grandchildren was truly special.

I’ll hold on to all the memories – so many belly laughs and happy times: the time he came for dinner and got so pissed he fell out of the door and broke a rib; a totally inappropriate cherry pip spitting competition off a bridge in Copenhagen; the Royal Tournament (remember that?), Christmas concerts at the Royal Albert Hall, a game of hide the pound coin that got ridiculously loud in a seaside restaurant in Gran Canaria (he cheated); asking the boys to be his Best Man and Chief Usher at his second wedding, arriving so early to the airport that there was literally enough time to drive all the way home when he realised he’d brought the wrong passport; delicious lunches of fresh tomatoes, a chunk of local cheese and some bread on the beach in Spain; nuts and tangerines at Christmas; pouring soy sauce instead of milk into his coffee in a Chinese restaurant, and trying so hard to pinch Charlie’s chocolate cake in another restaurant that the disgruntled little chap picked it up and moved to another table; and – with typical old-fashioned stiff upper lip, never, ever, saying I love you back (he would always look embarrassed and just say ‘thanks’).

I’ll miss his emails (always in capitals) and phone calls, updating me on his latest tumble, his never ending battle against the bloody pigeons, or where I’d ask him what he’d been up to and he’d say ‘I’ve just had a quick nap’ – ‘erm Dad, it’s 11am!’. I even wrote about him in The Sun.

I’ll never be feisty, but I hope he’ll inspire me to fight harder for what I believe in and not care if my opinion isn’t the popular one, never take no for an answer, and of course, see the silly in every situation. I’m similar to him in many ways (all the bad ones, my Mum would say) and I have him to thank for so many things in my life: sunny holidays and summers down the cricket club, keeping us entertained with his awful sock/sandal scenario, bonfires, donkey rides, Christmas lights, scribbled postcards and newspaper clippings in the post, and still always calling me Titch, even when I wasn’t remotely titchy any more.

And now, with two heartbroken boys, we face 2018 without him (he would have chuckled that he managed to hang on and ruin the start to the year for everyone – we’ll never forget to raise a glass to him, will we?). I wonder if he’ll actually get ‘I told you I was ill’ written on his headstone like he always wanted?

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W H Auden.

In the spirit of sustainability, I’m trying really hard to use all everything up before I buy something new. This goes not just for food (anyone else accumulate about ten packs of pasta?), but also tea bags (I have about five boxes of different ones to try after my favourite Twinings Dark Caramel were discontinued), and really nice smelling M&S cleaning products too (have you smelt them? Delicious). You know me, smell is REALLY important to me, so you won’t find anything unfragranced in my stash, and if I don’t like the smell of something nothing will make me use it. Not my bag at all.

My biggest problem, however, is that I am ridiculously easy to influence. Throw an Instagram advert my way, or recommend something in your Substack and I’ll basically throw money at it. Best follows for these kinds of reccos are the OG India Knight – I love her and would buy anything she said was good, the fab Lisa Dawson and Anna Eleri-Hart. All can be relied upon for solid, unbiased recommendations for things they’ve actually tried and liked themselves.

Lovely face creams

My favourite ever moisturiser is the Origins Ginzing Energising Gel Cream with Vitamin C. The texture is gorgeous – perfect for layering over various serums – it leaves skin dewy and bouncy and it smells fabulously fresh and orangey. They now do one with a bronzing glow - I mean… take my money

I’ve just finished the one that Jamie bought me for Christmas (it lasts well too, see?), and thought I’d give the Face Theory Glow-C Daily Moisturiser SPF 30 one a punt after seeing lots of people recommend it. I’ve only been using it a short while but so far, it’s really lovely: light texture, hydrating, yummy orange smell and the handy addition of SPF too. Plus it’s in a really nice aluminium tube. Bonus.

Lip balm

My youngest son and I share an absolute addiction to lip balm. Try as I might, I look ridiculous in lipstick (I am mainly monochrome/neutral and thought I would look chic in red lippie – sadly I look like a loon – and yes I know people always say it’s about finding the right tone of red, but sheesh, the money I’ve wasted. Anyhoo, our always, always go-to love has been LA MER The Lip Balm. It’s kind of matte (great for boys), lasts ages, isn’t gloopy, has a subtly minty smell/taste, and is really nourishing. Last time I bought one, however, it was £30 at Duty Free, now it’s over £60 (Strawberrynet do it for £59 - linked)

I really love the Beauty Pie (get £10 off by using this link). Smooth Ahead intensive lip balm (currently OOS), however it’s a bit thicker so you have to use sparingly. It’s great to smother on at night and smells absolutely amazing – like a vanilla cookie.

I’ve also heard amazing things about Rhode Skin peptide lip treatment (see, told you I was influenced) and Summer Fridays lip butter balm. Both on my to try list (could be a while if I have to use all my lip balms up, tbf).

Body and bath

I absolutely adore L’Occitane products. My friend Laura got me into their amazing shea butter hand cream (although current fave is the almond LOVE an almond scent, omg).

More almondy goodness can be found in their delicious Almond Milky bath, and if you want a fresher one, the Verbena Foaming Bath is also lush. I wasn’t convinced with the Almond Whipped Shower Cream: lovely texture, amazing smell, but it just kind of disappears on contact with your skin – no particular lather or creaminess. I can’t actually find it on their website so maybe they felt the same. Another L’Occitane product I love is their Invigorating Face and Eye Mask face mask – Jamie got this for my birthday and it’s fresh, light-textured, really hydrating, and smells like a freshly cut cantaloupe melon. Slather it on, lay back in your creamy, almondy bath and you’re basically 90% dessert.

For after bath loveliness, I really like a body oil. Naturium The Glow Getter is really good – sinks straight into the skin and smells like holidays and sun lotion. Great for giving winter skin a lovely glow and seems to give your skin a good bounce, which is nice when you’re an old fart like me and everything is slowly going south.

Under eye gels

I got some from TK Maxx called something like Eye Doctor Collagen Eye Gels – I’ve never been able to find them anywhere else apart from Amazon but loads of companies do similar ones: Beauty Pie have them, and so do Summer Fridays. Revolution Beauty have some affordable one £8.70 at Beauty Bay. They’re lovely, though – so cooling and soothing.

And finally, hair…

Revolution Haircare 10 Bond Restore Lamellar Water - £10 - but currently on the £5 Fridays deal.

This stuff is frankly amazing. I have fine hair that’s prone to fluffiness, but this lightweight liquid, which is just like water, really, used after shampooing (it’s lovely, it makes your head feel weirdly warm!) makes it soft, shiny and smooth. I don’t bother with conditioner afterwards either.

What about you? Tell me all your delicious smelling faves please (I’ll probably buy them all). Also thank goodness it’s Friday, this week has been a tough one, even though it was only four days! xx

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