The truth is though, that since the age of eighteen, I’ve never lived in one place for very long. I went to university in Cardiff, then spent a year working and travelling, before doing my journalism training for a year in Falmouth in Cornwall and then heading over to Brighton and then up to Hull for respective jobs. I arrived in Reading a year later, before moving to the countryside a couple of years after that.

Because of this nomadic type of lifestyle, I now have friends scattered all over the UK. Some of those friends I rarely speak to any more, as life and distance gets in the way and people move on to new things. But some of those friends I’m as close to as ever, even if I don’t see or speak to them every week.

This last weekend my friend Caroline came to stay with her son. We used to live next door to them in our old village, with the kids regularly in and out of each others’ houses. They’d bicker like brother and sister but stick up for each other and play together too. Within 5 minutes of Caroline’s arrival, it was plain to see the relationship between Frog and her “brother” was exactly as it always had been. 

We spent the day at the beach and by the harbour, eating fish and chips and ice cream. It was a pretty perfect day and just what I needed after an exhausting and emotional couple of weeks.

The weekend before, I rang my oldest friend to tell her my grandmother had died. We’ve been friends that long that she shares memories of Nana too and knows how good her Lancashire Lemon Fingers were. “Shall I put off my visit?” my friend asked me. But I wanted her to come, to distract us and to catch up on all the news since I last saw her in Bath.

There’s now twenty years of friendship between us, which seems impossible because if I close my eyes we are twelve years old again, making up dance routines to R Kelly and recording pretend radio shows. Frog has got in on the action, determined that “Ellen is my best friend now Mummy, not yours!”.

Since starting this blog I’ve made some new friends who’ve made the switch from “Internet mates” to ones of the “real life variety”. Jane of Northern Mum fame has been to visit with her brood too, on her way back from Cornwall. Frog and BB had a sleepover in the same bed, and it made me smile (through gritted teeth, admittedly) to hear Frog loudly whispering, “Don’t go to sleep yet! Don’t be boring!” as BB snored her way through Frog’s rambling.

We’ve only been in this house a couple of months but already it’s been lit up with laughter and music from friends visiting and sharing meals with us. Each time someone new arrives Frog proudly shows them her new bedroom, before going on to do the tour of the rest of the house.

It turns out I was wrong to worry about losing touch with old friends. Now we have the making new friends bit to look forward to too.

How do you manage to keep in touch with all your old friends? Have any of you moved REALLY far away and struggled to keep up the contact with your old friends? 

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The post Silent Sunday appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

1) I am a sore loser

2) I can’t consume more than three glasses of wine before getting all loud and over-excited

3) I should never be allowed on a rickshaw after drinking said three glasses of wine

4) I am a terrible singer.

You may have guessed by now I didn’t win the Best Baby Blog category at The Mum and Dad Blog Awards. I lost to an annoyingly brilliant blogger called Tom who writes at Diary of the Dad. Not only is he irritatingly talented but he’s also incredibly modest. All the things I’m not.

So, after contenting myself with those age-old lines “It’s not about the winning, it’s about the taking part” I spent the rest of the night applauding all the other fabulous winners and behaving in a very gracious manner to all those clutching their rather lovely awards. I was a picture of class and sensiblity.

*Ahem*

I wish all of the above paragraph was true, but unfortunately it’s not. I did lose, to a very talented blogger. And I did clap (rather too loudly in some cases) as each winner was announced. But I also stumbled upon the vats and vats of free wine. And then there was some singing. And some more singing. And a bit of dancing. Oh, and a Subway sandwich (eaten by the side of the road) at some point in the evening. And then falling off a bed. And then sleep.

Although I didn’t get a piece of glassware for my living room mantelpiece, I did meet some of the people behind the blogs I’ve been following since starting my own ramblings back in February. I laughed until I cried and took lots and lots of rather rubbish photographs. I chatted with people I’d never actually met face to face before, but who I already consider “friends”. It was a fantastic night from start to finish.

So, as I packed up my bag and said a fond farewell to the lovely hotel in London, made possible by my brilliant sponsors Brother Max, I couldn’t help but make a silent wish to be back next year. But I want a trophy next time. Obviously.

The post So I didn’t win, but I had a bloomin’ good time appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

On the day we moved in to our home, three weeks late because of heavy snow, we ended up having to keep the milk outside in the back garden while we waited for a fridge to be delivered.

But it didn’t matter, because we had a shed:

And a beautiful log-burning stove:

The low ceilings in our 16th Century cottage constantly catch out the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine, so that he inevitably bangs his 6 foot 5 inch high head every single day.

But we still love this house.

It’s the place where I put on my wedding dress, ready to meet the NLM at the end of the aisle. It’s the place where I brought my newborn baby back home, cocooned in a nest of baby-bubbled tranquility. It’s the place where I met our future friends and next-door neighbours.

As a former city dweller, I was unsure how I’d adapt to village life. But I soon settled in after finding the local walking spot and the village drinking hole:

We rent our home, as we save for the huge deposit currently needed to secure a mortgage, so we don’t know how long we will live in this house.

This makes me sad, as I love the fact I live in an enclosed spot where the children are constantly in and out of each other’s houses and there’s always a willing friend with a cup of tea next door. I love the fact there’s open countryside only yards away, perfect for adventures once Frog eventually gets off her backside and starts walking. And I love the fact there’s a sleepy train station one minute’s walk from my back door so if I fancy something a bit more lively than the village pub it’s not too far away.

Although we won’t live here forever, this place will always feel like home.

***

This is my entry for this week’s Gallery. Pop over to Sticky Fingers to see the rest.

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The post Silent Sunday appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

The post Silent Sunday appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

What a loser I am.

No, but seriously. I’m looking for three new blogs to feature in my Introducing post this Thursday. No meme’s, linkys or anything even slightly draining required. All you have to do is email me at mothersalwaysright@gmail.com and introduce yourself.

I’ll then pick three new blogs to feature in the post on Thursday. It’s your chance to say hello to me and to anyone else who reads my blog (particularly my mum).

For the skim readers amongst you, I’ll make it extra simple:

1. Email me: mothersalwaysright@gmail.com
2. Introduce yourself and include a link to your blog

It really is that easy. Now don’t say I never give you anything.

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