Fabulous finds from The Watch Hut
The Watch Hut have inspired me to create my 'Look of the Day'
I must start with this Stunning Watch as I know rose gold is where it's at right now!
I love wearing dresses and This Breton style is just the thing from John Lewis for my upcoming Paris trip!
A new Tote? Why thank you, John Lewis!
I'm planning on some walking so these ladies from Cream Tees can keep me company on my travels!
I hope you love my new look!
The Country Cockney
Friday, 11 July 2014
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
Italophile Forever
I have been in love with Italy since Italia '90. As a 15 year old Spurs fan that long hot summer with it's highs and tears (mostly Gazza's) has left indelible memories with me, one being one of the last time I would truly enjoy football with my father. My complex, funny, exasperating inspiration that is my Dad, junior Spurs & England schoolboys player, who grew up to be a Tottenham mascot during the high times in the early '80s.
My Dad never was blessed with a son so instead all his footballing knowledge was passed to me & for years I basked in the undivided attention I could grab, having a coke in the pub after a match on Boxing Day, reveling in the camaraderie of the joys & disappointment. I suppose Italia 90 summed up the pinacle of that, we jumped for joy, wept when we crashed out. And this time I was allowed a weak shandy to commiserate. Not long after was the last time I went to a game with my Dad. The first semi-final to be held at Wembley, and we lost 1-0 (of course) to the Gooners. After that humiliation followed the literal agony of escorting my increasingly disabled father home on a stuffed tube, seeing the pain etched on his face.
So I suppose one of the main reasons I lost my love for football was no longer enjoying going to matches, or nipping to the pub afterwards. He of course still watches every sport under the sun, but now bedridden he hasn't much choice in it. He's still him. He's not a bitter person. But maybe I am.
But my love for Italy remained, it was the first place I flew to, the heel of the boot, in '97 and I enrolled immediately at college on a language course on my return. I then landed in Rome in 2005 (we won't mention it wasn't Florence as I picked the wrong airport). I threw coins in the Trevi Fountain, wished for the love of my life, came home, opened my eyes and we're still together now.
I've spent two marvellous trips to Venice with my family (culture and caravanning by the beach, perfection!) which have only cemented my Italian obsession. Here's my little man, giving it large.
Wouldn't it be lovely if I could combine my adoration of Italy with a resurgence of love for footie? After all, where better to get the bug again outside a Trattoria with the local enthusiasm for the beautiful game?
This is my entry to the Al Fresco Holidays and Tots100 World Cup challenge
Have a trip like mine with Alfresco Holidays!
Win a trip with Tots 100!
My Dad never was blessed with a son so instead all his footballing knowledge was passed to me & for years I basked in the undivided attention I could grab, having a coke in the pub after a match on Boxing Day, reveling in the camaraderie of the joys & disappointment. I suppose Italia 90 summed up the pinacle of that, we jumped for joy, wept when we crashed out. And this time I was allowed a weak shandy to commiserate. Not long after was the last time I went to a game with my Dad. The first semi-final to be held at Wembley, and we lost 1-0 (of course) to the Gooners. After that humiliation followed the literal agony of escorting my increasingly disabled father home on a stuffed tube, seeing the pain etched on his face.
So I suppose one of the main reasons I lost my love for football was no longer enjoying going to matches, or nipping to the pub afterwards. He of course still watches every sport under the sun, but now bedridden he hasn't much choice in it. He's still him. He's not a bitter person. But maybe I am.
But my love for Italy remained, it was the first place I flew to, the heel of the boot, in '97 and I enrolled immediately at college on a language course on my return. I then landed in Rome in 2005 (we won't mention it wasn't Florence as I picked the wrong airport). I threw coins in the Trevi Fountain, wished for the love of my life, came home, opened my eyes and we're still together now.
I've spent two marvellous trips to Venice with my family (culture and caravanning by the beach, perfection!) which have only cemented my Italian obsession. Here's my little man, giving it large.
Wouldn't it be lovely if I could combine my adoration of Italy with a resurgence of love for footie? After all, where better to get the bug again outside a Trattoria with the local enthusiasm for the beautiful game?
This is my entry to the Al Fresco Holidays and Tots100 World Cup challenge
Have a trip like mine with Alfresco Holidays!
Win a trip with Tots 100!
Saturday, 7 June 2014
Life Changes
Perhaps I should begin with some sort of introduction to me and my life. I'm Emma, born in East London, now living in Norfolk since 2006. I suppose you would have called me a bit of a party girl back in the day. Here I am, steadying myself against the nearest wall back in 2000.
Just a year later and my life was gratefully turned upside down by my first born, a girl, joined by son a few years later. I moved to Norfolk with my scrummy hubby 8 years ago looking for the country way of life, some peace and fresh air, and most of all, top schools for our current and future kids!
So now I look more like this
Overall I'm glad we made the move, the children are thriving at school and we lead a fulfilling outdoorsy lifestyle. My almost degenerate lifestyle has long gone although we do get a babysitter now and then and live it up until at least 10.30!
The downside would be adapting to a new way of thinking, even just moving a short way in the UK can feel like having moved to a different planet. I left all my friends behind in London, and as much as you try to stay in touch, you (or they) move on, and rightly so, life should progress. But you assume moving to the country, 'folk' will be queuing outside your door to greet you with pies and well wishes. Instead I think locals were maybe a little perplexed by the bouncy Londoner. I have made a few good friends and for those I am grateful, but in the majority establishing relationships has been, quite frankly, exhausting. What are the rules? At 'home' you don't say hello on the street for fear of being labelled a nutjob, yet you can chat to people in queues, at the bar, at the park and within half hour you've swapped numbers and are planning a night out/kids playdate. But here, I can't walk down the street without battling cheery "Good morning!"s (although peeps do like to confuse me by greeting me one day, ignoring me the next leaving me saying hello to thin air). As for chatting in queues/at the park etc, I still do it, I have trouble stopping myself, but mostly I receive a tight smile and a puzzled look. So I do try to tone it down. But aren't you supposed to be yourself? There are those that I thought I became close with have not ceased to shock me at showing their true colours down the line and actually treated me and my family quite appallingly considering the friendship I have shown them.
I have spent a number of years believing it's a 'Norfolk thing' and possibly people do have different ways, but more recently I wonder is it just too late? At nearly 40 living in an area where most have lived all their lives people have already made their friends, they don't need another one. I don't mean that as a criticism. I think I get it now, and maybe I'll always be the slightly unusual outsider. But I do wish someone had handed me a manual to start with. And I should have trusted my instincts and realised not everyone is as open as I am. I remain grateful that I found my best friend years ago, and married him.
Until next time, stay fabulous xx
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Just a year later and my life was gratefully turned upside down by my first born, a girl, joined by son a few years later. I moved to Norfolk with my scrummy hubby 8 years ago looking for the country way of life, some peace and fresh air, and most of all, top schools for our current and future kids!
So now I look more like this
Overall I'm glad we made the move, the children are thriving at school and we lead a fulfilling outdoorsy lifestyle. My almost degenerate lifestyle has long gone although we do get a babysitter now and then and live it up until at least 10.30!
The downside would be adapting to a new way of thinking, even just moving a short way in the UK can feel like having moved to a different planet. I left all my friends behind in London, and as much as you try to stay in touch, you (or they) move on, and rightly so, life should progress. But you assume moving to the country, 'folk' will be queuing outside your door to greet you with pies and well wishes. Instead I think locals were maybe a little perplexed by the bouncy Londoner. I have made a few good friends and for those I am grateful, but in the majority establishing relationships has been, quite frankly, exhausting. What are the rules? At 'home' you don't say hello on the street for fear of being labelled a nutjob, yet you can chat to people in queues, at the bar, at the park and within half hour you've swapped numbers and are planning a night out/kids playdate. But here, I can't walk down the street without battling cheery "Good morning!"s (although peeps do like to confuse me by greeting me one day, ignoring me the next leaving me saying hello to thin air). As for chatting in queues/at the park etc, I still do it, I have trouble stopping myself, but mostly I receive a tight smile and a puzzled look. So I do try to tone it down. But aren't you supposed to be yourself? There are those that I thought I became close with have not ceased to shock me at showing their true colours down the line and actually treated me and my family quite appallingly considering the friendship I have shown them.
I have spent a number of years believing it's a 'Norfolk thing' and possibly people do have different ways, but more recently I wonder is it just too late? At nearly 40 living in an area where most have lived all their lives people have already made their friends, they don't need another one. I don't mean that as a criticism. I think I get it now, and maybe I'll always be the slightly unusual outsider. But I do wish someone had handed me a manual to start with. And I should have trusted my instincts and realised not everyone is as open as I am. I remain grateful that I found my best friend years ago, and married him.
Until next time, stay fabulous xx
<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/12380851/?claim=rtzmpetgzv2">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>
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