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NATIONAL FEET WEEK
I was gifted products in return for coverage about National Feet Week. Forgotten Feet is a charity which I have chosen to support. NATIONAL FEET WEEK National Feet Week. You know I love to celebrate – but I don’t usually celebrate “National” Weeks with the exception of those related to Keep Britain Breastfeeding. National Feet…
FRIENDSHIP…MAKING THE TIME [ZONE] FOR COFFEE….
In the September of 1994, following a long, humid Summer of dancing to All-4-One in our local hotspot at night and spending most of my parents’ hard earned money on new duvet covers, pots, pans, warm sweaters and a perm to rival Tina Turner by day, my family packed way more than the kitchen sink…
SEVEN: A WEEK IN MY SHOES
Despite this weekend being somewhat of a disaster, life was pretty good this past seven days. On the failure to launch side, Lyoto’s sick meant no BlogCamp, the electrics in our car and MOT meant no Thomas première – and a phone call from work meant the mister was taken out of our equation too…
MRS WORDSMITH: YOUR CHILDREN CAN LEARN A LOVE OF WORDS FOR LIFE
Usually when the postman arrives, he comes bearing toy review boxes. This week, he came with two very sturdy, very interesting looking parcels for the boys, from Mrs. Wordsmith. Now sit tight, because this is going to be a long one. I’ve realised more and more over the summer holidays that despite no longer being…
A VISIT FROM THE TOOTH FAIRY FOR JENSEN [THE EVERYDAY]
Jensen’s teeth don’t give in easily. When he visited the dentist last time, we discovered that his adult teeth were coming in behind his baby teeth and that even though he had no wobbly teeth in sight, they were ready and waiting to spring into action. Over the past few weeks we’ve been watching the…
FIVE THINGS I LEARNED ABOUT MYSELF FROM THIS BLOG
It’s been 360 days since my last birthday – which means it’s been 360 days since I ate these too-good-to-be-true macrons from my little sister, mom and dad. Beautiful macrons that they went to extraordinary lengths to get for me after I actually crushed my own macrons from the Dordogne into crumbs [embarrassing story right there]. Which…