Autumn days

Summer may be coming to an end as we begin the relegation of barbeques and sun loungers back into the garage for another year, but that’s not to say we still can’t enjoy the outdoors. In fact with autumn just around the corner it won’t be long before we’re back outside, this time wrapped up in scarves and gloves, filling bin bags with leaves and enjoying the site and smell of lingering bonfires.

I’m sure many of you would much rather be lying on a beach drinking cocktails and catching some rays, but now is a great time to embrace the change, after all it does come with some perks: a new wardrobe, Halloween and bonfire parties, conker fights, and dare I say it…..Christmas!

Ok I admit it, I’m not one for battling against gale force winds and rain, but there’s something to be said for coming in from the cold, putting on your fluffy slippers and comfy slob out clothes, heating on and chilling in front of the TV with a large Baileys on ice!  So don’t let the dark nights and fading tan lure you in a state of misery, instead embrace what is now on offer. Dig out the wellies, wrap up warm and let’s have some fun!

Lost (A Short Story)

He had been trapped underground for weeks. Everyone assumed the blast had killed him so a ceremony took place in his honour. Little did they know he was using every last drop of energy he had left to escape. Rats and bugs covered him like a rotting corpse, but he refused to give up because he needed, and wanted, to see his wife and children again. They were keeping him going.

As he scurried through rubble and battled falling debris, faith restored him. Light shone through in the distance and he felt an incredible rush of relief. He was saved. Tears stung his dirt filled eyes as he hurried towards his survival despite the bright blue sky almost blinding him.

Moments earlier, whilst he was reaching his freedom, a power cable sparked and detached overhead causing the pylon to fall to the floor like timber igniting flames and smoke that filled the light he was making his way towards.

His scream echoed around as the man so close to regaining his life saw the flames heading towards him. There was nothing he could do now.

It was over.

If the dress fits....

When it comes to fashion, I’m not really up there as a catwalk fanatic. I always try and make an effort though and look smart for work and when I am out, but I don’t get over excited about shopping for clothes and shoes like most girls do.

So, imagine my shock, when last weekend I went out with my housemate who was in search of a dress to wear for her birthday, and I came back with one to wear also and another to wear to her mum’s wedding in October.

The first shop we went into was Matalan and hanging up next to the fitting rooms (how apt) was this dress:

I fell in love with it straight away so tried it on and couldn’t believe it when it actually looked nice on me and for a bargain of £18 I didn’t even hesitate to buy it. Needless to say, I walked out feeling rather smug!

We then made our way to Wallis, where my housemate had told me about a dress she had seen which she thought would look lovely on me. I remember her describing it to me and at the time, it sounded lovely, but if I’m honest, I forgot all about it (sorry Chelsey!) but when we got there, hanging up at the front of the shop was the dress:

I knew straight away I wanted it so grabbed it off the hanger and tried it on. I loved it but stupidly decided against buying it, thinking I still have a couple of months until the wedding. As soon as I got home, I realised I made a mistake not buying it so found their website and not only did I find the dress, but it was also part of an online offer and was £4 cheaper than buying it in the shop at a cost of £36!

I seriously couldn’t believe my luck. Prior to this, I had spent weeks searching in vain for a dress to wear to my nephew’s naming ceremony, including trying out a personal shopper experience, only to decide on one I already had in my cupboard, but here I was, on a Saturday afternoon, finding two dresses I loved and on impulse, buying them both. I can’t wait to wear them now, starting tonight, with the Matalan dress!

The Old Lady (A Short Story)

We are often confused by the behaviour of people, but sometimes the way we behave can ultimately save a person. I found this out recently and I feel today is a good day to share it with you.

I grew up in a small village where everyone knew each other’s business, often before you knew your own. I enjoyed my childhood, but there were times I found it suffocating. So many busy bodies in a remote area never really giving you the chance to breath, and it came to no surprise when an old lady moved into the vacant cottage opposite my house that everyone wanted to know about her.

There was only one problem though, she didn’t want to talk to anyone, and it really rubbed the locals up the wrong way. People often wondered about the old lady in the house. They would see her most days pottering about, watering her flowers, getting her shopping, and sitting in her rocking chair in the lounge doing her knitting. She never seemed lonely, but was always alone. Neighbours tried to embrace her but she would just smile and decline any form of contact. Of course, there was that rumour about her being a witch and putting spells on people, but I never believed them.

I remember walking home from college one afternoon and she was hovering outside her front door. Despite my parents telling me to stay away from her because she was “a bit odd”, she looked like she needed help. As it turned out, she had dropped her key on the floor and was in too much pain with her back to bend down and pick it up. She told me I was the first person of many during that hour and a half of her trying that actually stopped to help. I wanted to get her into her house, purely for curiosity than anything else, but she couldn’t have closed the door quickly enough. Resigned to the fact she just wanted to be alone, I turned around and went home. All the kids in the village thought I caught some kind of disease from her because by coincidence, I fell ill days afterwards. Turned out it was just a sickness bug, but that didn’t stop the small minds from thinking it was more.

Every time I saw her after that I always waved, but she just smiled and turned away. At weekends when I baked cupcakes I would box some up for her with a note and leave it on her doorstep. I never bothered to wait for her to answer the door because she always ignored anyone that arrived, but she always accepted them because I used to watch, sometimes for hours, to see she got them. Then every Christmas I sent her a card, and even after I moved house I still continued with the cakes and greetings. People thought I was stupid for it because she never said thank you, but that wasn’t why I did it.

Three weeks ago I got a telephone call from my mum to tell me the old lady had passed away. She realised something was wrong when my parcel of cupcakes were still sitting outside the front door two days after they were delivered. She called the police who found her lying in bed, clutching a photograph, of what I now know was the man she loved. I still get shivers whenever I recall that conversation, but then yesterday morning I received a letter in the post which must have been found by those tidying her house. The letter read:

My Dearest Annabelle

If you are reading this then it means the inevitable has happened. You may wonder why I have chosen now for you to understand this, but I want to share it with you because I feel I owe it to you. I have watched you with much happiness over the last 10 years grow into a beautiful young lady, so caring, so kind, so thoughtful. A year before I moved to Cloverlane cottage, my husband, Walter, lost his battle with cancer. He was the love of my life, always made me smile, always cared for me, always looked after me…and always loved when I baked for him. Before he passed he made me one promise – that wherever I go, he will always be there looking after me.

I chose Cloverlane because it was a quiet area - I never thought for one moment I would create such a stir. It seems that despite the quaint village setting, it was full of some sinister and rather vicious people who refused to believe that behind the person, was an old woman; longing for the man she had lost. That was until you came along. You never judged me, never forced me to talk, but you were always there, sending me notes and leaving me gifts. I cried for hours the day I found your cupcakes on my front porch. I couldn’t believe it because you made them just the way I used to make them for Walter: vanilla sponge with white icing. I realised then he was right – he was there for me, only his spirit chose you.

You brought so much happiness back into my life, and I am so grateful. You helped me to see that despite my loss and sadness, love still surrounded me. I enjoyed so much receiving the photos of your wedding, and cried once more when you told me you are expecting your first child. Knowing you have that makes me so happy, because you deserve it. Don’t ever lose the person you are because you are beautiful and so special.

Take care my darling, and I will continue now what my Walter told me. Wherever you go, I will always be there looking after you.

All my love

Ethel

That was the first time I found out the old lady’s name. I never realised I had such an impact on her life but knowing I did has made me so happy. I attended her funeral at St Mark’s Church back in the village, along with my parents. It seemed, despite their initial attitude, seeing what I did for her made them proud of me. There weren’t many people there that day but she wouldn’t have expected there to be because despite my caring for her, she still never let anyone else in. Although I never got the chance to really get to know Ethel, since her death, I feel like I know more about her now than I did before.

Perception is a powerful thing. You never really know a person unless they let you in. I don’t know why I continued to stay in touch with Ethel, or even why I started. Perhaps on some deeper scale I was fed up with the perception that my friends and family had of her, and the thought of turning out like that scared me.

I guess what I’m trying to say to you all is don’t judge a book by its cover. Don’t be that sheep and follow the crowd, be your own person. Your future is in your hands now so don’t let it pass you by. Grab it with both hands and enjoy it. Be the strong individuals you have become, don’t succumb to gossip and rumour, and don’t be that person creating the gossip and those rumours. Love the people close to you, share the moments because there will be some incredible ones to remember, but most of all, keep a look out for that person who needs you, because somewhere along your path they will be there, and that will be your chance to really shine. I have faith in you class of 2012.

Be strong, be wise but most of all, be happy.

********************************

Putting the piece of paper down and taking in a deep breath, I looked at my husband and could see his tears.

“What do you think?”

Standing up from his chair, he took me in his arms and kissed me.

“I love you” he said “and so will those kids when they hear that story. You are an inspiration, Mrs Andrews.”

Not so (Cross) Fit

It will come to no surprise by now that exercise and I are not the most compatible of couples, however after agonising about whether to rejoin the gym recently, I was invited to a free circuit training session this evening so I jumped on board and thought why the hell not! Of course, how I interpreted it, and what actually happened are two very different stories.

Picture the scene: a friend contacts me on Facebook after my random status update about rejoining the gym and mentions one I didn’t know existed in Northampton called Crossfit. When I spoke to her about it, I managed to interpret it as a chance to catch up with someone I haven’t seen for months and have a good old natter in between circuit exercises. Now, when I think of this, I think 10 sets of press ups, 10 sets of star jumps, maybe a few weight sets and running from one side of the room to the other. Not so shabby really! Of course, somewhere in my blonde infested brain, what I was told and what I actually experienced was a whole other ball game.

After agreeing to pick me up, we drove round to said Gym, not far from my house, which seemed to appear out of nowhere. I wasn’t too fazed to begin with but it did cross my mind where the big building was and why we were driving into the smallest car park a gym has ever seen. Still, I didn’t really question it. On approach I saw we were walking towards what I can only describe as a huge converted garage and I soon found myself distracted by Mr Fittie and his sexy legs and was too busy checking him out to notice what was happening around me. Why oh why did I choose to wear the most horrific pair of cropped leggings and old t-shirt today? I really need to take note when going to the gym – men will always be there!

It took me a few minutes to register where I was, but once I managed to compose myself I looked around the room and I thought I had entered some sick and twisted red room of pain, and I was convinced Mr Grey was going to appear in his joggers and riding crop in hand and beat the crap out of me. Unfortunately he never showed, however the latter was still true, just not in the masochistic way I had first thought!

Grey thoughts aside, we began our training starting with a warm up which included a gentle run around block – yes outside and in the rain – something I was not prepared for. We then made our way back and started on 5 sets of 10 kettle bell swings, box squats, bunny hops, ring pull ups and more squats with weight bars on our back which we alternated for about 15-20 minutes. By now I was looking more like a heart attack victim than an Olympic champion! From there, we then went onto our 5 set circuits (and finally a chance to stop and breath I hoped) but no, we were pushed to our limits once more. Wall and floor climbs, kettle bell lunges, swings and to top it off a 50m sprint outside, still in the rain. Thankfully I wasn’t the only newbie there so we were given a little more grace and were told to do only 3 sets which to be honest, I’m not sure how I even managed that but I did, and I have to admit it felt good.

Had it been described to me like this before hand, it is without a doubt I would have said no, but in hindsight, I’m really glad I didn’t know what was coming because despite the pain, the body shakes, the red face, and the ridiculous amount of sweat seeping from my pores, I have to admit, I loved every minute of it. The people in the class were pleasant and so friendly, the trainer was really motivating and supportive, and despite being the slowest and probably most unfit there, I didn’t for one minute feel intimidated or stupid. Everyone was so focused on their own workout and that helped me to keep my focus too.

I’m really glad I had the opportunity to go and although I was aching before we even finished, and knowing full well I will be in agony tomorrow, part of me feels really smug but also quite proud of myself. Although the ultimate goal is to get fit, it definitely is the kind of workout that involves a lot of mental strength, but it seems to have triggered something inside of me because I'm feeling really good now, almost buzzing, and for that reason I don't think Crossfit has seen the last of me!

What a bummer!

Whoever said being a girl was easy probably wasn’t female, in fact in an image obsessed world, it’s a bloody nightmare! Choosing the right hairstyle, getting the best makeup, ensuring your grooming is up-to-date and wearing the right clothes actually sounds like fun when you’re trawling through magazines and looking in shops, but sometimes for me, it’s a disaster.

I don’t dislike being a girl; on the contrary I actually love it. The flirting you can do when your out to get a drink off the fit guy you’ve been eyeing up or buying accessories, shoes, bags…the list is endless, but what about those off days? You know the ones I mean, the days when you go into every shop possible and nothing looks right. That dress you love so much in the window looks more like a tent when you try it on, or after four weeks of eating only chicken and drinking green tea, you still can’t quite do up the zip on those skinny jeans. This has happened to me on so many occassions and the complex I already have about myself seems to be going from bad to worse!

I do tend to get the odd compliment here or there, usually about the size of my cleavage, which lets face it if you know me doesn’t go unnoticed, but from out of nowhere I seem to have developed this ridiculous obsession about the size of my arse! Now I know Sir Mix-a-Lot likes a “juicy double” and to be fair, I have been known to shake my “healthy butt” on a night out, but for some reason unbeknown to me, I have found myself wishing my callipygian curves, were….not so in your face. It’s enough with the cleavage; I don’t need the derriere as well!

I know I should embrace my curves and be that all powerful female unfazed by what others think of me, but in reality, their opinions really do matter and with a backside the size of black beauty, I’m starting to think I need to get help before I get mistaken for a bike rack!

Time to get onto the squats I think.

Published article: Whiteroom

I am very happy to share with you another article of mine which has been published with Glow Magazine. I decided to put my writing skills to the test and have written a review on a local Northampton Band called Whiteroom. Please take some time to read it and check them out. You won't be disappointed!

http://www.glowmagazine.me/whiteroom-covers-northhampton/

Tanya :-)