Skip to content

fuck it

November 19, 2015

Sometimes, you just have to say fuck the blog. Fuck the laundry, the dishes, the phone calls, the emails. Fuck the shoulds and the coulds, the responsibilities and the obligations. Fuck the to-do list. Fuck all that noise.

Sometimes you just have to pour yourself a glass of wine and watch an episode of Catastrophe and put your tired mama ass to bed my 9pm. All those things will still be there in the morning.

on traveling in a 1968 vw camper van, in scotland, in september, with a 3-month-old

November 17, 2015

col1 col2 col3
45710034

45710002

45710010-1

45710011

45710013

45710014

45710015

45710017

45710018

45710019

45710020

45710021

45710022

45710023

45710024

45710025

45710026

45710027

45710028

45710029

45710035

45710037

A couple of months ago, we went on our very first family holiday with the Wrenster. For some reason, we thought it would be a good idea to take a 3-month-old baby in a 1968 VW camper van, in Scotland, in September, for an entire week. The foolhardiness of new parents and their eagerness to retain a shred of their old life is endearing, you must admit. How hard could it be, right?

The answer is… challenging. But not as challenging as you might think.

The van was, as you can see, the epitome of cool but not entirely functional — the fuel tank gauge changed whenever we turned the headlights on, which were more like two candlesticks in the wind, so we were never quite certain whether we had a quarter tank of gas or three-quarters of a tank. And the heater didn’t work, which meant that we spent the entire week with throws on our thighs and hats on our heads. But Wren was such a trooper. Even with the drafts coming in through the cracks in the back windows in the night, even though it rained 90 percent of the time, even with the violent thunderstorm that threatened to send our van bobbing down the lake and out to sea (or perhaps it felt particularly tempestuous because we were sleeping in a tin box), even though she was going through a major growth spurt, even though she had to drink her weight in milk to stay warm. I suppose it is these very characteristics – curiosity and tenacity – that got her through the week that will also get her through life.

Here is a little video of our trip and some of the things I learned, should you be crazy enough fancy doing the same:

  • Babies are tougher than you think. If you are a new parent, don’t wait too long to go on an adventure. You’ll realise it’s not as big or scary a thing as you make it out to be in your head.
  • Don’t book a seat in the quiet carriage on the train if you have a baby.
  • There’s only so far and fast you can go in a VW van.
  • Don’t park the van on a football field unless you want to wake up to a few kids peering through your windows in the morning.
  • Islay is a small island that feels big when you’re running it (according to my husband, who ran a marathon on the first weekend).
  • Black pudding doesn’t taste good, no matter where you go in the world.
  • Bagpipes are cool. Bagpipes are even cooler at the finish line of the world’s smallest (in attendance) marathon.
  • You can camp almost anywhere in Scotland. Often for free.
  • Lest you want to shit your pants, do not try to overtake in a VW van, even if the annoying person in front of you has been driving 30 miles per hour for the past hour.
  • Open the air vents at night, otherwise you will have to mop up buckets of condensation in the morning.
  • “It’s a different kind of camping, Joe” said the owner of the van hire company. And he was right.
  • Vans may be made for rocking but certainly not for sleeping. We finally figured out that top and tailing was the way forward on the fourth night of our journey.
  • Don’t over-pack i.e. leave the big-ass tripod at home (we never used it).
  • Extra blankets, however, are a good thing to have in Scotland in September.
  • People who ride sea-doos on a peaceful lake at dusk are not cool, they’re idiots. Go to Poole you fool and let the rest of us enjoy nature.
  • Don’t expect to listen to music or chat over the ruckus of a VW engine.
  • Wear a back brace if you’re over 30 – the suspension is about as good as a roller coaster ride.
  • Bring your own coffee if you’re a coffee snob. The Scottish countryside isn’t particularly renowned for its excellent coffee.
  • It feels like you are part of a clan when you’re traveling in a bitchin’ VW van. And it looks awesome on your Instagram feed.
  • Make sure your battery is charged if you decide to go hiking and the only map of the area is on your phone and you have a baby strapped to your chest and you haven’t brought any food or water because you were only planning to go for a little walk. Before you know it, you’ll be hiking through a field with ferns up to your armpits and a husband saying “I’m fairly certain I saw a path somewhere in this vicinity right before my phone died.” Which means you may end up retracing your steps in awkward silence. And in those moments, there’s nothing like a baby who suddenly bursts out laughing for no apparent reason for the second time in her very short life to make everything alright with the world again.
  • A sense of humour goes a long way — when traveling or parenting or in life in general.

you must go on

November 16, 2015

vsco-photo-1

Y’all, I’m running out of steam over here. Whose idea was it to take on this challenge while looking after a baby? Thank God we’re halfway through. Someone give me some water, throw me some power gel. Mah legs are burnin’.

This is a marathon; I need to pace myself. So I’m going to walk this mile if that’s ok with you.

In the meantime, check this out, a little feel-good carpool karaoke via Sas.

before and after

November 15, 2015

1
257
8
9101112

As you may recall, my husband and I bought a squat in November 2013, which you can read all about here. We spent 18 long months pouring everything we had into this project and finally moved in this past June, three weeks before Wren was born (I was painting bookshelves until the very last minute). There are still a few things left unfinished — stairs to paint, speakers to install, snags to fix but we are very nearly there. Many of you have asked for before and after photos, so here they are, thanks to my lovely friend Xanthe who photographed the place when it was a squat and shortly after we moved in. I’m so grateful for these memories.

We are completely in love with our new home. It feels like we are living in some boutique hotel (a boutique hotel that has been taken over by a four-month-old baby). Sadly, it looks like we may have to sell the place at the start of the new year. It’s a long and bitter story and I won’t bore you with the details. But until that day comes, we are going to enjoy the shiznit out of our new digs. After all, it’s just a house. We can build a home wherever we go.

insta1 insta2 insta3 insta4

pray for paris… and the world

November 14, 2015


Someone’s son, daughter, mother, father, sister, brother, friend, lover, spouse is grieving today. I woke up this morning so grateful to have my husband on one side, my daughter on the other, my friends and family safe and sound in their own beds.

I’ll never understand why we can’t just all live together in peace on this big, beautiful planet. I’ll never understand.

“later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?

it answered
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere”

― Warsan Shire