This year is full of Italian delights. Yippee! June took my husband and I to wonderful Piemonte (Piedmont) in northwest Italy, our second of four trips to Italy this year. A region we had never been to before.
One of the best things about living in Jersey is being so close to London’s airports that it is easy to travel within the UK and to Europe. Both are so rife with history, amazing architecture, intriguing people, delicious food and steeped in culture. This is the stuff that makes my heart sing.
I’m Back… It’s a joy to be blogging again. Thank you for reading!
In the past few years, I have had health issues resulting in some rather bazaar symptoms. I’ll spare you the unpleasant nitty gritty. The pinnacle of my unwellness was last December when on a ski trip to Whistler, I fell ill with bronchitis. I lay in bed, exhausted while my family skied. I never made it to the slopes.
The vibrant woman I once was fell away into a puddle of symptoms. It was as though my immune system had gone insane. Soul destroying stuff.
I just got back from New York City and I’m struggling to get things done. Gosh, I’d forgotten what jetlag feels like! I watch my cat Frodo saunter over to his food bowl half asleep. He’s been catnapping. I know how he feels. Writing is not coming easily today. However, I am not complaining. I am thankful that I was able to travel to the Big Apple!
It’s the Year of the Tiger, the third of the 12-year cycle of animals which appear in the Chinese Zodiac. According to ‘Yahoo Life’, the Zodiac dates to the Qin Dynasty over 2,000 years ago and is rooted in animal worship.
Tigers are known for their courage and ambition. The Year of the Tiger is about making momentous changes. A year of risk-taking and adventure lies ahead. We’re finding enthusiasm again, both for ourselves and for others. Everyone is fired up; generosity is at an all-time high and social progress feels possible again.
Menopause is like becoming a teenager in reverse. As ever, I am sharing my journey to help those who can relate, both women & their partners. This blog is my most candid.
Devon, England and it’s a typical grey, misty, wintery day. I’m on a 14-day weight loss retreat. I decided to end the year turbo charging my metabolism sans alcohol, sugar and caffeine.
Last September, I spent two glorious weeks in Mallorca with my husband. The largest island of the Balearic Islands, which are part of Spain, it is an ideal Mediterranean paradise. Not too big but substantial enough to be interesting with plenty to do.
Earlier this year I read an article that described Mallorca as the California of the Mediterranean and indeed it is in many respects. The island is replete with olive, almond, lemon, orange trees and vineyards. Interestingly, Mallorca grows some grape varietals that can’t be found anywhere else in the world. The locals love white and red wine but detest rose that they view as not really being a proper wine. We were introduced to a lovely digestif, Herbes de Mallorca, that is now a favourite of mine, alongside Italy’s Vin Santo.
I’ve been binge watching Fargo. I love the show because there are so many unexpected twists and turns in the lives of seemingly ‘ordinary people. Lately, I’ve felt like I’m living in an episode of Fargo, minus the violence.
The polarization between the vaccinated and anti-vaxxer’s boggles this mind. For some it’s become a stand for liberty and freedom. I wonder why this wasn’t so when scientists developed vaccines against polio, measles, mumps, malaria, flu, smallpox, tetanus, whooping cough, chickenpox, yellow fever, and typhoid?
I live on the island of Jersey, the original Jersey, in the English Channel. It is known for being an international financial centre; for its gourmet potatoes that you’ll often find on your plate at posh restaurants in London, and for the Jersey cow. Jersey cows are now found all over the world and thanks to the export of Jersey bull semen to Rwanda, dairy products have improved dramatically.
Recently I was cleaning out a closet when I came across some old photos. Amongst the snapshots from years gone by was a modelling headshot from when I was 21. I shared the photo on social media and received compliments for which I’m grateful. If only I had received the same when I was that age, I may have felt better about myself.