I type this with one hand while massaging a chunky bull-dog’s Kling-on forehead with the other. Well, apologies for the lapse in posting. I managed to lose the little gizmo that allows me to upload photos, but thanks to Hubby-nerd and some file-sharing I don’t understand we’re back in business. Yaay!

Had a great Easter break with the Mothership and the dogs at the East Coast. Lovely beach house accommodation, too much food, some walks on the beach and about 28 sea-air (and carbohydrate) induced naps. Heaven. 

Bulldog now snoring by the way….

I had the pie of my life (and I am no stranger to pie), Rabbit with black olive sauce. O.M.G! It was like having Greek rabbit Stifado in pie form. I wept a little meaty tear at its beauty. The Piebald in at Hunmanby is fabulous, and Dog friendly too, highly recommended. 

A little trip to Thornton-le-Dale on the way home wouldn’t be complete without a trip to the cottage that has graced a thousand jig-saws, the most photographed cottage in England. 

Had a great walk around Scammonden Dam the weekend after (more great weather). Driven past it on the motorway between Leeds and Manchester a billion times so really nice to finally go. 

Joined the gym (again) just to swim mainly. Those people are not my people!! It seems like it’s apparently cool to sit in the jacuzzi while shaking your awful protein drink and giving us lesser mortals stink eye. Just because I have a tankini that rolls skyward the minute it gets moist, and I can’t get under the rope to the “trawler lane” without taking on more water than the Titanic does not give you the right to judge spray-tan boy! Then we have “Nigel from accounts” that morphs into the Thorpedo in the fast lane, drowning everything in his path with his over-zealous front crawl. Everywhere else there seems to be the yummy-mummy brigade that can’t take their kids for a swim wearing less than a 3/4 length wetsuit, and chatting overly loudly about their 87 hour cesarians. I turn up my waterproof MP3 player, smile sweetly when little darling Scarlett-Paris-Starbucks smacks me on the head with her pool noodle for the 32nd time, and try not to wish people harm…

Then let’s not forget the leaden-legged walk of shame to the showers, think Godzilla emerging from the bay in an early Japanese monster movie, it’s all too blooming much. 

As someone who regularly gets cramp from putting my tights on, I couldn’t care less about having a “thigh gap”, or to quote Sarah Millican – rickets!! 

TTFN my lovelies.