Mummy Willow Blog

        Firstly, I must inform you that I have had a cold. Yes, despite all my dodging, weaving and trowelling on of the hand gel, I was devastated when that all too familiar achiness and shakiness slithered over me like the unwanted affections of a greasy barman. Bleugh! Anyway, I have spent the past week downing cold-busting beverages and blowing my very blocked nose. It was during this period that I was required to have two of my daughter’s school friends home for tea. It had been arranged for a good while, me being the last mum of the three to commit. Not great ti..

      So, the dog-eared decorations have come down, the cards have all been gathered from the dusty window-ledges and the last of the pine needles hoovered up and chucked out with the tired looking tree. It’s not a nice task to have to do and one which I always dread even before I’ve put the things up to be honest. The dreary new year is here and with no more twinkling fairy lights to brighten up those foreboding skies, everything suddenly seems like a chore.   It’s like wading through tar and that’s before you’ve told the children they have to go back to school. So ..

        Well, I thought I’d fulfil my motherly duties with a spot of cutting and sticking after being guilt-tripped into it whilst chatting to a friend. So, as promised, we set about retrieving the ‘craft’ box which is jammed in the cupboard where everything else is, well…jammed. So much so that if you remove that little sewing kit at the top, the whole lot will come tumbling out like a raging river of useless stuff. In factjust like that. I think this singular annoying event has been the barrier to me engaging in craft activities for so long. The neat-freak in me simpl..

        A friend recently informed me that her window cleaner’s neighbour (whom she only knew by sight) had broken up with her boyfriend and was dating a toyboy “with a six-pack to die for”. “I didn’t know you knew her that well”, I replied. “Oh I don’t. I saw it on facebook.”…She is a bit of a voyeur I must add and likes nothing more than sitting down with a cuppa and having a good old nose. Postings such as “just made some chicken soup. Mmmm” and “hangover cures anyone?” are her daily fodder. I occasionally get informed about the dead pets of various acquaintances thr..

        What does a girl have to do to get a compliment around here? You folks might be getting your fill of plaudits but me? Well, I know I married a man of few words but let’s just say it’s been a little too quiet of late. Before I get going on my mega-moan I would like to point out that I have joined the tide of pre-Christmas desperate dieters. My husband, who is irritated by the world’s self-imposed Christmas deadline sniggered when I announced I would only be having one potato with my Sunday roast instead of the usual 45. “You love your carbs too much, you’ll never..

        In my younger days, an invitation to the pub was very rarely turned down. Indeed, if there was some bizarre reason I was unable to attend ie near fatal illness, nuclear war etc., I would do everything in my power to get there somehow, even if it was only for last orders, or a bag of nuts come to think of it. Who cares if I didn’t have the taxi fare home? It didn’t matter because everything was wonderfully spontaneous back then. I inhabited a world where anything could happen, at any time and I just enjoyed the ride. Yeehaa! Cut to a decade (ok maybe two) later..

      What is it about washing? Whoever you are and whatever you do, you can’t seem to get away from it. Absolutely everyone is involved in washing. From the mothers with 10 children who are at it (washing that is) from dawn til dusk, to the Hollywood stars who take off their costly frocks and fling them into a basket. Maybe they fling them at some minion instead but whoever they fling them at even they cannot deny this makes them part of the washing super-chain. Life is tough enough but washing makes it tougher – especially when you live in a dryer-less household. I remem..

    Our Seaside themed 'Little Buoy Blue Collection'.   I was never too happy about growing up. When all my friends were trying desperately to look older than their years – wearing the latest fashions and experimenting with makeup (badly) – I was quite happy pottering around in my sister’s hand-me-downs trying to ignore the inevitable. I had no desire to wander around the streets aimlessly, or rather appearing aimless whilst ‘casually’ bumping into certain boys. I would much rather dance around in my bedroom to the top 40.  I just wanted to keep on being 12 thank you ve..

      Whilst rifling through the usual paraphernalia in my daughters school bag I discovered a bordering-on-begging letter for help with the summer fair. I have never really had much time to get involved with school stuff really but have always secretly wanted to be in that number if I’m honest. It all seems so smiley and wholesome, what’s not to like? I hear lots of busy mums muttering to the contrary but I’m guessing they secretly want it too. Luckily, I was about to fulfil my dream as I would be free that very afternoon. Now I wouldn’t say it was on my bucket list but I..

    I’ve always been a fan of good storage solutions. The fact that we moved into a house with absolutely NOWHERE to put ANYTHING was perhaps the catalyst for my obsession. When there is not a nook or a cranny in sight, you have to resort to desperate measures.   We had the mop and bucket in the bathroom and a hook on the wall for the dustpan and brush. The ironing board was propped up behind the kitchen door at an optimum angle so as not to flatten any visitors, and the iron was shoehorned into the crockery cupboard. The one cubby hole we were afforded was stuffed to t..