Magical, mystery tour

I’ve always been the kind of girl who’s always needed to know the answers to the most impossible questions.
As a young child, teenager and into adulthood I would sit for hours by the old pier on Brighton beach staring out to sea, wondering who I was, where I’ve come from and every impossible question that I alone will never solve the mystery’s.
Years and years of not knowing my roots, my dna, but more importantly who my father was.
You see my mum fall head over heels in love with a traveller, who fall just as hard and just as deep.
A forbidden love, a love scorned upon by my grandfather.
They dreamt of running away together, they dreamt of a life filled with the unconditional love, the butterflies in their tummy’s, they dreamt of growing old, travel and the sunsets they would see, they dreamt of the beautiful life they had ahead of them.
They made love under the stars, and they held each other so tightly their soul become one and no one could come between them.
A love unbreakable.
Life had a different path laid out ahead of them as they were cruelly torn apart.
Breaking both their hearts, their dreams and their spirits.
Unknown to my father, they had made a tiny symbol of their love, a baby girl was growing.
Nine months later I was born and from as young as I can remember I needed to know who my father was.
A man I dreamt about, a man my mother could see in me, a man she loved through loving their creation made of the truest, deepest love.

As I day dreamed of my father, the hero I had wondered about all my life.
A man I knew I was part of, as he was part of me. A man who know nothing of my birth, my up bringing, my name, nor my longing.

We were lucky, we found each other, we adore each other and he really is the hero I had dreamt of. He is my father, my shoulder, my strength.

Over the last year or so, questions have been running rings around my thoughts, unknowns have been pulling me to find answers to his history, where he cane from, who his family were, where his roots came from?
The passion for knowledge and understanding pulled harder at my heart-strings and I started on a journey to discover his ancestry.

Little did I know that some questions, can never be answered!
You see I discovered that his grandfather was also born of love untold, love forbidden.
His grandfather was born at the workhouse, to a mother forbidden to love a man who gave her the gift of life.
Leaving behind unanswerable question of who he was, not only that but who we are.
Now I find myself looking to the star lit sky and wondering the most impossible questions.
Will I ever uncover who my roots belong to? Who gave my great-grandmother the gift of birth, the gift of love?

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And now we’re really cooking with gas.

There’s nothing quite like sitting around with friends having great conversations over a delicious meal. Add some wine or beer (because we’re fancy like that) and now we’re really cooking with gas.

There is something special about sitting around the table to eat the meal you have just slaved away at for hours so you can fill you friends and family’s tummy’s.
Every week we make a point of all getting together for a good old feast, a chinwag and what every drink tickles your fancy.
We’ve been doing this since I returned from Paris and I have to say it’s probably the best day of the week for Marly-Kate and I.
Marly-Kate loves having everyone around, they all give her so much love, attention and time, to her they are her family.
That’s the main reason we started our feast night, so Marly-Kate could get a sense of what family life feels like.
As it just her and me and of course my baby cousin, it’s so easy just to slump in front of the tv with your dinner on your lap. I don’t want that for her, I want her to feel how dinner time should really feel.
The conversation, the smell of homemade food, the smiles, the laughter, the warm feeling that you get when all the family comes together, I want her to experience that and to hold warm memories.
Also when we get to eat good old dominos while chilling in-front of the tv, it’s special in its own way. 🍕

Though our family is spread over thousands of miles from Devon to Paris to Spain it’s not always easy to show her what family really means, that’s why feast night is so very important.
She understands that family isn’t all about blood, that it’s about the people who are never far from your side, it’s about the people who are there through the good and the bad, it’s about friendship, respect and love.
Family to us is coming together and enjoying a good meal not forced by blood but because we actually want to spend time together.

Who has the songs to sing to me when I am blue?

Who has the tenderness of a mother?
Who has the wisdom of a schoolteacher?
Who has the tricks of the magician?
Who has the ability to see the world through a child’s eye?
Who has the stories about Mum and Dad?
Who has always loved me no matter what I do?
Who has the songs to sing to me when I am blue?
Of course, it is my Grandma,
And I love you and you blessed my life!
(Catherine Pulsifer)

I’m constantly being called a granny because I crochet. But if all granny’s warm hearts like my granny sure did, I don’t mind being called a granny at all.

My great gran was the most exceptional lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
Her warm heartfelt hugs as I snuggled into lap as she read me poems, story’s and sang the most enchanting Irish songs, in her sweet Irish accent, there was no place I would rather have been.
Her sweetie pot filled with humbugs next to her comfy armchair always filled so that her grandchildren could have that sweet treat that our parents would only allow on pocket-money day.
She would sit and listen to every word we spoke no matter the rubbish that would pour out as mouths.
She truly listened and even though she was a Victorian child at heart and the world had changed in front of her eyes, she would do her up most to try to understand the modern world and help to put life’s troubles into prospective, she would put the world to rights just by being her and opening her arm to give us the hug that protected us from the monsters under our beds.
She loved with her whole heart, her time was solely ours, her love unconditional.
There is truly no one like a granny.
She was my first ever heartbreak and I miss her terribly, her smile, her wisdom, her voice, her hugs.

While people take the piss that I make crochet blankets, hats or what ever they ask for, I do it out of love, friendship and respect for the person I’m gifting it to. With every piece I create, a sense of pride fills my soul and I feel as though I have actually achieved something.
Since life grow extremely hard, I feel I really don’t have a purpose, I have this humongous hole in my life, that can only be filled by the love of my life, with that emptiness eating away at me I have to try to do anything to give myself a little peace, a little sense of achievement, a little pride. Creating a keepsake, an heirloom that I call, a hug in a box, I feel I’m giving out a little love, that in person, I struggle to give. So even though people tease me, call me granny, I really don’t mind because granny’s give the best hugs.👵🏻

People have searched for centuries to find the right way to say “I love you”

People have searched for centuries to find the right way to say
“I love you”
But I found, no words are really needed.
A look, a touch, a smile, a kiss, can say everything, we as humans are incapable of saying.

Let me tell you a true story, about a boy and a girl, who’s love was pure and unbreakable.

The girl worked in a hotel on the Isle of weight, working to bring much need pennies home to her parents, which would help feed and clothe her 8 siblings.
And a boy who worked on the steam cruise liners, making as much money as possible to give his love all her heart desires.little did he know, all she desired was him.
As Eileen carried out her daily tasks, her one true love Reg would swim five miles around the bay, just to wave hello to Eileen the girl he would marry.
He would swim everyday to wave to her upon the shore or just to catch a glimpse of her beauty, to let her day be filled with the overwhelming feeling of being loved.
A love that only grow as the grow older, a love that would bring a daughter and many years of marital bliss.
A marriage cut shot by ill-health and the passing of the Eileen’s only love.
A love that brought her peace upon her death-bed as they once again were reunited.

Love doesn’t need words, love hold no boundaries, love is beautiful and fills you with warmth, tenderness and belonging.

Standing up

Today is the day I said “NO More” and took my baby girl out of school.

I can’t believe that the school have not done jack about her getting bullied.
I’ve given them chance after chance and still I pick Marly-Kate up every day, eyes over whelmed with tears, that flow as soon as she spots me.
Months and month, years if I’m stating facts, of tear every single school day, before and after school.
We have had enough.
I warned them that I would remove her until she can be in a safe environment and all they did was suggest they move her into a different class.
Why Should she be punished by having to leave the teacher she likes and the few friends she has.
Nope, that isn’t happening.
She’s not the bully, she the one that goes through hell every single day.
Enough is a enough.
Maybe they will actually start to listen now.
But in truth I should not have to go to these measures!!!

We may better understand who we are.

“If we know where we came from,
we may better know where to go.
If we know who we came from,
we may better understand
who we are.”

It’s a journey that I’ve been making for many a year now.
My family’s history fascinates me.
Who where the people who gave us life?
Who where the couples whose love grow the seed of the future generations?
What are their stories?
What were their struggles and their joys?
Do I hold any similarities?
Do I have the same passion, the same will, the same beliefs?
Do I carry their strength, their determination, their spirit?
Who are they?

This is a journey, a quest even, that I have traveled since I was a wee 18 young girl, who needed answers to the most impossible questions.

It’s a journey, I’ve cherished, I’ve pulled deep into my heart.
An unthinking bond with spirits of our past.
I unconditionally love these people who gave me a change to live, who fought wars, battles, the slums, the blitz, the potato famine, the workhouse, the hardships, to give us the future, to give us life.
Those people are my heroes.

I’ve shared many a journey with my ancestors, I’ve discovered family shames, secrets, heartbreak and joys.
I’ve traveled their timelines, feeling every emotion with them.

There are a few family’s that pull on my heartstrings more than others, a connection so strong I’m baffled by its pull. The need to unearth every possible part of their history.
Some have been harder than others, some proving impossible to uncover but they have this hold over me, they have me hooked, line and sinker, I need to find out every tiny little detail about them.
What they looked like, what their personalities were, where they lived, how they died and where they were laid to rest.

One family whom has this hold, are my great, great grandparents on my mum’s, mum line.
They lived a life on the stage, singing, dancing and doing comedy. Yes I have a good few comedians in my family. How awesome is that. I now know who I got my dry, crude sense of humour from.

My great, great-grandmother had three children, two boys and a girl.
Two were born in a workhouse, the other was born actually in wedlock.


I can only imagine the shame that would have been brought down on her, I’ve lived that with you great, great Granny.
Why hadn’t she married the man who she loved?
Was it really a case that her father wouldn’t let her marry her sweetheart?
I sincerely believe that to be the case.
She married a few days after her father had past away.
She finally was able to love and cherish the man she loved. She got her happy ever after.
They had hard battles along the way, true heartbreak.
Her little girl died at the age of three.

This heartbreaking, devastation wasn’t known to the family until I pulled up the 1911 census.
The 1911 census is very different to the others, it’s the first to be completed by their own hand, it has much more information listed and there in black in white was her story of heartbreak, a heartbreak only those who have felt it, will truly understand. 😭


I could not leave it there, I needed to know her name and what had happened to this poor little tot.
And that’s where her journey entwined with mine.
I spent hours searching records, putting the pieces together and I found a birth that could possibly be hers, also a death that if I was right, would uncover her tragic story. A story that pulls so deeply at my heartstrings.
I ordered these two certificates not really knowing if I had discovered the right documents, it was a long shot, one worth taking. Thankfully I did and I now know her name, her birth date, her residences and the reason why she was cruelly taken from this world, leaving a hole in her parents hearts only fit for loving her.
I couldn’t leave it there, I needed to know where she was at peace.

That began a new journey in trying to find her resting place and you know what, I found it, I found this sleeping beauty’s place of rest.
She is buried at Islington cemetery, in a grave with 14 other people. How very sad that is.


Now at least, I can lay flowers on her grave, and she will know that she isn’t forgotten, she’s remembered and loved.

My dear aunty Eleanor, you will live on in my heart and you will always be remembered.
Sleep peacefully aunty El.
In our hearts you will remain, until the day we all meet again.

Flashback Friday

After a fab start to the week and a weekend full of great company, fun, games and freedom, the week hasn’t ended the way I hoped it would, well it is Friday the 13th!!!
I really did have great hopes for the week and even with the storm that took out the phone lines, I was pretty content in writing a blog post on my phone and walking through muddy fields until I could find 3G so I could post it. I guess its all part of moor life, a part I love about being there.
I’m cut off from the world. No phone signal, and internet that only works when it decides to.
Even though I love technology, it’s a welcome break from, being able to be got hold of. When the body and mind needs a time out, it’s the perfect getaway.
The weekend was great, even the weather didn’t stop us, stepping back in time and finding freedom of mind as well as freedom of our souls.
It really was a delight, care free, until that moment I fall off the swing and landed in freezing cold water.
That moment changed everything.
Not only did it send my mind into overtime but my body went into shock as the cold took hold.
So my plan of a fun-filled week, doing not much but enjoying the freedom that Devon brings, I ended up, spending most of the week wrapped up in front of the fire with hot water bottles, pain killers and pile of blankets over me.
My mind was free to play every trick it could, every emotion reared its ugly head and I felt pain deeper than I have let myself in a while.
All those emotions I had pushed deep within my soul came flooding out, grief surrounded me as I fall lower than I have been in a long time.
Life carried on around me as I spent days staring into space reliving every moment, I’ve forbidden myself to think about.
I’ve had to workout all over again to suppress all those feelings, gain strength and put a smile firmly back on my face. I’ll admit, it’s been hard, extremely hard but I got there and took that journey home.
I never thought that I would ever feel grateful to return to the rat race we call life. Here I have to get on, I have no choice but the busy myself.
Life goes on no matter how you feel or how you are coping, you have no choice, you have to get your butt out of bed and live your day the best you can.
You have to answer the hundred and one emails waiting for you, you have to do all the tasks that have built up since you were last at home and work your way through that mountain of washing you brought home with you.
It’s what I need right now, I need to feel as I have a purpose, I need to busy my mind with the endless crap that running a family home gives.
I need to dull out the pain by doing all those brain numbing chores.
I need to remember that life doesn’t just hold heartbreak, it’s beautiful in its own way, it holds memories that I don’t want to forget, that I never will forget.
And that leads us to this weeks flashback, to memories that bring a smile.
So without further ado, I’ll wish you good health, a happy home, a smile on your lips and freedom that the weekend ahead may bring.
Enjoy guys.
Stay safe, stay true, stay you.

🌹🌹🌹

Life without friends is like life on a desert island…

imageI wanted to say thank you and sorry also for the weekend.
It was lovely to all get together and spend time with you all for Sammy’s birthday.

Visiting the Isle of Wight for the first time in like forever brought peace but also some very painful but happy memories.
Drinking hot chocolate in my favourite cafe was a trip down memory lane.
I did chuckle to myself over a finger of fudge 😃

And it brought a smile to my face, yep a real one not forced.
I wish I could bring back those feelings again, when the world was mine for the taking.

Watching you all, walk almost skipping along the sea front, splashing each other like you all have no cares in the world was a beautiful warm feeling but also sad because I couldn’t join in and feel freedom.

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As I wrapped up warm, sat in the car, I thought about how many wonderful weekends we have spent there, without a care in the world, and as I blissfully fall asleep with the memories floating around, I had the most care free sleep I have had in a long time, one where he didn’t haunt my dreams.

I don’t know how you all got back in the car and drove to Freshwater without me even knowing it.
Waking up to the view of the most delightful beach as the sun set was like stepping back in time, to when life was easy and pain wasn’t the ruling factor in my life.
I want to say thank you for giving me a feeling of hope and peace but I also want to say sorry that I couldn’t join in, in your antics.
I know you all understand but I still have to say it.

At times like those, I really miss having good health.
It makes me realise that the things I took for granted really do matter.
Watching Al set up his camera to capture the moment, to frame the beauty of the sea and all its hidden gems, it makes me feel sad that I can’t jump in the shot at just the right time to put a ghostly figure in his photograph.
It makes me sad that I can’t look for a different view and catch the shot of the day.
What one eye sees as beautiful an other eye sees perfection.
I miss those days of stealing his thunder, lol. (Not going to happen with my mobile)

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I miss capturing Sammy and Lee, sneaking a kiss or walking hand in hand across the sea’s edge, in their own little bubble, captivated by their love for each other.
I miss seeing their faces alight as I show them the stolen moment I caught on camera.
I miss seeing Brett and Cassie acting the clowns, and plotting how they can get everyone drenched.
I miss the way I would lose myself as I watched the waves come tumbling into shore, wondering what secrets, life’s and regrets have been lost to the sea.
But what I miss most of all, is our dear friend Porter being there.
How we would all sit round the fire and watch the flames as he sang “Amazing Grace, Chasing Cars and We are sailing.”

How he loved the Island, how his passion rubbed off on us all and made us all fall in love with his place.

I really thought it would be harder going back there but it almost felt like he was with us.
I’m sure he was with us in his own way.

As night fall upon us and we sat around the fire, talking for hours about him and our memories, it just felt right to write a little letter to him and throw it out to sea.
It was the perfect end to a lovely day. (Thanks Sammy, great idea.)

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Thank you all, so much for sharing your tears, laughs and memories with us all and bearing with me as I struggled throughout the day and evening.
I couldn’t ask for better friends.
Thank you xxx

Close to perfection

A new day, rain on the window panes, wind soaring through the branches of the trees, the bubbling brook turning into a fast flowing river.
Nature is at its best, teaching us that he is in control.
Mud sticking to our wheelies as we struggle to stay upright as it takes hold, not letting go.
Rain drops running off our noses, hair soaked, along with everything right down to our toes.
Autumn is definitely upon us.
As we strip down to bare essentials and warm ourselves by the fire, this moment is close to perfection, as we giggle at the sight that we will forever behold in our memories.

What can I say….

My week, well what can I say about my week.
It’s been busy.
That seems to be the norm at the moment, I’m so needing me time, so me being me, I packed bags, jumped in Rich’s van, puppy in the back, Marly-Kate safely in her car seat next to me and we hit the road.
The moors ahead of us, the autumn sun shining, freedom awaited.
We stopped as soon as we hit the moors and did our norm, of shouting our worries away, them traveling in the breeze, giving us freedom of mind as well as spirit.
That really has to be one of my favourite things about our road trips, add in that good old English fry up, bubbling brook, roaring fire and warming our cold hands on the Rayburn. You could almost call it, “Coming home.” (How I long to feel that feeling)
Marley-Kate is definitely at her happiest and of course having a few days school free, gives her a new lease of life.
She’s been poorly for a few weeks now, and as the cold weather creeps in, so do the chest infections, and nights of stress as her breathing becomes more difficult.
Somehow the moors seem to have healing powers and finds energy she has no where else.
She is at home here, free and even more beautiful than normal, even if she is knee-deep in mud, straw and cow dung. She loves every moment of it.
As for me……
Exhaustion has set in this week, making every task so much harder, my lists of jobs, seem to grow as I try desperately to tick off daily jobs, stay on top of work, and just find time to do all the things that life demands.
A few days out, is definitely what’s needed, hook and yarn at the ready, I’m determined to find my own freedom, while I do the things that bring me peace and a sense of worth.
Life seems to have a way of getting stuck in a rut, days just blend into one another as the daily household tasks never seem to end.
I swear my cousin has lost his function to tidy up after himself, and sees me as his little slave. I don’t mind really, that boy works so hard. He does worry me though, he hasn’t totally bounced back since his accident and is really withdrawn from the world. Maybe it’s just him becoming an adult and working out that life has many battles, and who stays along for the ride, is very different to what your once young mind imagined it would be.
Growing up sucks, it really does, but the lessons learnt while finding adulthood are some of the hardest to learn. He will get there, and make us all proud as he already does.
So all in all, life is just ticking along, no dramas, which is always a blessing and lots to look forward to, great friends and lots to occupy my mind which always manages to keep me thinking to deeply, reminding me of the pain that I have pushed deep within, somehow it doesn’t want to stay there, it always manages to creep through the smile I try so hard to wear, it creeps in, within seconds of waking and holds its own as I try my up most to wear that smile, that everyone expects me to wear.
The problem is, no matter how good life can be, that emptiness, those feelings, the devastation, the love I feel, the longing, the heartbreak and the grief doesn’t ease not even for a second, I’ve just got kind of good at hiding it.
But let’s not go there!
Let’s enjoy the freedom that Friday brings.

Have an awesome one, enjoy the sunshine, sing loud and badly, and dance as if no one is watching.

🌹