Monday, 27 April 2026

Too Much Screen Time...

Cast your mind back to the pandemic. Don't worry, this'll be brief. 

A young woman, walks down a residential street, with headphones. She walks with a swagger.
Not quite a field, but almost the same.
Like many people whose lives were on hold, I found myself hoovering up hours of podcasts as I went about my daily walk. I can remember exactly where I was (the track through the fields by the back of my house) when I heard Charlie Brooker say the following words... 

The core assumption I made that was wrong was that I would watch things on TV and would assume that the people making them were slapping themselves on the back and going ‘ah, we’re brilliant, I’m a genius, this is the best I could possibly do.’ And then of course as soon as you start making anything yourself, you realise that it’s difficult, or there’s compromises, or things go wrong, or you don’t have enough money or enough time.’ 

 The Adam Buxton Podcast – 13.5.18

It resonated then, and BOY does it resonate now. No matter how perfectly crafted the plot and characters of my stories and no matter how many people I co-opt to help shape the final draft, the second the publishing part kicks in, everything gets thrown in the air. 

Here's a recent example. The cover is set, so the spine is fixed. That spine is for a book of 370 pages. When I edit a word - perhaps to fix a typo - it can cause the word to be shorter, which might make the sentence that it's in to jump to the line above. That might make the whole page jump back, which means the final page count becomes 369. If that happens a few times, it changes everything and the spine becomes too big for the book. So, after fixing the typo that has reduced the page count, I have to scout about for a place to elongate another sentence so that the line jumps forwards, and the page moves on, and I'm back to 370 again. But then I spot another typo, and the jig starts again.  Argghghgh. 

Anyway, back to Charlie Brooker. Those words have been bouncing around my brain all week. How random that a throwaway comment on a podcast in 2018, that I listened to in 2020, has become my personal mantra six years later. 

An illustrated person - short haired young person - is lying on their side, holding a phone/iPad, close to their face. There is a torrent of colour, letters, and images that are pouring out of it and landing in their face,
Writing News
I mean, I'd say 'see above' for the basic gist. Let's put it this way, if I were a child, and my parents let me have as much screen time as I've had this week, social services would be all over the show. In fact, I've stared at my laptop so much over the past seven days, that I'm going to crack on with this post at super-speed, so that in no time at all, I can be sitting cross-legged with closed eyes, whilst rhythmically rubbing my temples.

One white man is sitting on a throne, wearing a suit, and bopping away to an unheard rhythm. The other white man is standing up next to him, with a suit on (and his stomach exposed) wiggling away. It's the Taskmaster and his assistant.
Culture
Before I do that, let's finish up here. My brother-in-law recommended You Are Here by David Nicholls and I'm loving it. One Day was the novel that made me want to write novels, and You Are Here has gently dragged me into caring about the lives of people, that a day or two ago, I'd known nothing about. Fab stuff. While that's going on, I'm still trying to finish the old episodes of Hacks before starting the new series, and Taskmaster is back! That's single-handedly un-tensing my shoulders every Thursday night.

A kitchen counter with a flat white bowl. inside, there is a big dollop of beige hummus in the middle, with beige corn chips all around. Next to the bowl, there's a large bag of crisps, that says PROPER on them in big letters. There's also a yellow tub of hummus.
Food and Drink
What with being a bit busy recently, I've not had much time for cooking. But! I've realised I have a regular go-to, when time is tight and I can't be arsed. Proper Chips and hummus! There's something about these crisps. They're non-greasy, and very plain. But that's what makes them perfect for scooping up the hummus. It's not an ideal evening meal every night, but for when I'm knackered and annoyed at the indie-publishing biz, it's surprisingly satisfying.

Out and About
Another dentist's appointment, a Wednesday brunch, a food shop, and a nostalgic drive past my old high school when I needed to get out of the house. It's not been the most exciting week but that's the way of it right now.

Right, I apologise for speeding through this update. I need to shut my laptop, breathe deeply, and do something, ANYTHING, other than type words on a screen. Until next time...

...have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 20 April 2026

Can it Pass Soon, Please?

Hello there. Welcome to another week of 'Will my emails to the indie-publisher's help desk result in a satisfactory resolution to all my issues, or not?

A man sits at a computer at a help desk looking board as he speaks into his headphone mic. The caption reads, 'Turn it off and on again.''
Isn't it a ball-ache? Making a book? Life in general? You decide. For example, this is the second blog post I wrote for today. The first was much more triumphalist in tone. I thought I'd cracked it. I thought the book had been accepted and ready for pre-order. But then I checked the draft they'd emailed me, and it wasn't. The front cover looked great. That's the upside. But inside, every page of text was cut off mid-sentence, as if the story was trying to escape the confines of the paper. Sigh. This is where we are now. Still, the woman/chatbot from the help desk is becoming a trusted friend. Onwards.

The head of a teenage girl is closeup on the cover of a book. She's holding a magnifying glass to her eye, which is magnified larger than the rest of her face. The book is called, Leeza McAuliffe is Branching Out and the author is Nicky Bond.
Innit  STUNNING!?!

Writing News
It's not all doom and gloom. Check this out! If you want your teen novels via a digital medium, you're in luck. Leeza McAuliffe is Branching Out is available for e-book pre-order! Woohoo!

It'll be released on 21st May. That's soon! If you're so inclined, you're more than welcome to pre-order today. Just click the link in the paragraph above. Isn't technology wonderful?! (A-hem... when it works!) Meanwhile, the paperback will be ready... some day! 

I now realise that I've not shown anyone the cover yet. HERE IT IS. Isn't it GORGEOUS. Gary, the friend of a friend who gets mithered by me every couple of years, has done it again. I love it. It's eye catching and lovely and colourful and brilliant and makes me smile whenever I see it. So that's a definite plus, isn't it?

Culture
It's been another week of seeking out distractions to shelve the stress for a bit. I'm now in the middle of series two of This Life, which I love, despite it reminding me how messed up the nineties were. I've also been flying through the books. I've boxed off Alexis Hall's Boyfriend Material, and am in the middle of the sequel, Husband Material. All good fun. 

Two white men, standing in the traffic control gallery of an airport, look serious. The man on the left says, 'I guess I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.'
Hard relate.
On Friday, I escaped to the cinema. I didn't especially care what I watched, I just needed to sit in the dark for a bit. Yeah, I know. Some people have real problems and all my stress is self-indulgent nonsense. Still, I wanted to lose myself in a film. I'm not sure if Glenrothan - two estranged brothers struggling to reconnect amidst a whisky distillery - managed to take me away from 'all this', but it was full of stunning Scottish scenery, so that was nice.

Food and Drink
For fans of closure, you'll be pleased to know that the era of the Mini Egg, as referenced last week, is over. There was a time when I thought it would never end, but here we are. A life lesson right there. It will ALWAYS pass. I'll continue to repeat that mantra at regular intervals while I crack on in the kitchen.
 
A decidedly rustic looking pie, golden brown but very wonky, with an etched cross in the middle of the pastry.
Pie number two
This week, I made a pie, twice. Mainly because I made too much filling the first time. Look at its rustic glory! This pie was comprised of green beans, carrots, potatoes, a tin of corned beef*, stock and basic seasoning. I bunged it in a pan and simmered for an hour or so. The resulting mush got covered in pastry, and then ta-dah! A meat and potato pie was born. It wasn't pretty but it tasted great. Both of the times.

A blue sky, and an empty sandy beach. There are barely any footprints in the sand.
Tuesday morning's walk.
Not bad at all.
Out and About
It's been a bumper week of life-admin. An eye test and a dentist appointment all in one week. On Thursday afternoon, after a particularly tense day, I felt the need for a random drive to... anywhere. Hitting the motorway at peak rush hour, I found myself driving into Liverpool. No idea why. With nothing much to do, I parked up, got myself a Joe and the Juice, (Go Away Doc, if you must know) then drove home. An hour and a half's round trip with my music blaring, and a carrot, apple, and ginger  juice to sort me out. What a world, eh?

On we march. Perseverance is the key. Challenges build resilience, etc etc. More next week, yeah, yeah? Cool. See you then.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*I don't eat meat. That's almost true, most of the time. What I don't like, and therefore won't do, is bite into meat that looks like meat; that looks like flesh. No ta to a steak or chicken breast, any sort of roasted meat, or much of what's on a BBQ. A mushy pie filling is an entirely different matter and my inner repulsion-meter barely registers it. FYI.

Monday, 13 April 2026

How Big is YOUR Quiche?..

Oh chocolate, you have broken me.

A cream porcelain bowl with dozens of multicoloured mini eggs inside.
The Mini Egg bowl - one
week later.
If all the Mini Eggs in the world could just quietly fade into the background and remove themselves from my sight, that would be helpful. I just can't stop popping them into my mouth. Like grapes or Smints, just with a hard sickly shell, it's becoming a real problem. Meanwhile, what with the past week being decidedly non-standard (school holidays, family visits, and a sad-but-lovely friends' gathering) I've not had a balanced meal all week. Is this how you get scurvy? I'm currently craving savoury food that contains nutrients. What have I become? 

The good news is, we've got a few weeks of normality before anything interesting is happening in my life. I shall embrace it wholeheartedly, whilst ignoring all remaining chocolate.

A white woman with dark curly hair stops in the street, bends her knees, and screams violently.
Me, several times a day, right now.
Writing News
Oh man, this indie-publishing lark is mired in stress. I think I'm getting there, but I still have to pause now and then to scream into the void. 

The current problem seems to be getting past the initial automated part of the process. I keep being told via email, that my manuscript's bleed edges are too small. When I check them, they seem bang on. I re-upload the document and wait for it to be bounced back again. We're now at the 'contacting the help desk every couple of days' stage of proceedings. I'll get there, one day. Hopefully soon.

Culture
Meanwhile, in a bid to unwind after a long day of stress, I've been hoovering up some cracking telly.

A white man with dark hair and wearing surgical scrubs is holding up his hand for a high five and saying, 'With consent five.'
The reboot of Scrubs feels 
effortlessly done with
 authentically written
characters for twenty
years later. Quite the feat.
Scrubs is back! I loved it then and it's marvellous now. A new series has dropped on Disney and it's great. Next, is Rooster. Steve Carell is a less-Michael Scott version of Michael Scott but this time on a university campus. Also great. Jury Dury Presents: Company Retreat may well be worth your time. If you watched Jury Duty, then this is more of the same. Heartwarming and lovely. Finally, I've started to rewatch all of Hacks. It's been truly necessary to distract and unwind after screaming at my laptop all day.

A large metal baking tin is sitting on worktop. There's a golden quiche with bits of green, and a brown pastry crust inside.
Thirty centimetres!
Food and Drink
Check out my quiche! I made it for Easter Sunday when assorted family members came over to my place. As the rest of the buffet was comprised of opening packets, I wanted to make one thing that was impressive, hence my quiche. It was sweet potato, feta, and spinach, but that's not what was exciting. What IS worth noting was it had a diameter of thirty centimetres! A mofo! It fed everyone on the day, as well as providing left overs for the week. Hurrah. A quiche win!

Out and About
My thrice-weekly walks are finally becoming pleasant. We're in the tiny window when the icy drizzle of winter is over but the cancerous rays of the sweaty summer sun are yet to materialise. Bright spring days that still require a hoody, are here. I'll take them for now. 

Whether you're actively avoiding sugar-based snacks, or having work-related stress of your own, I hope this is the week it all comes together. Either way, I'll see you here next Monday for a debrief. Good luck to us all.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 6 April 2026

Ooh Aah, a Little Bit of Nostalgia...

What was YOUR year when everything came together?

A toddler with a brown bowl haircut is leaning on a 1970s hifi stereo resting a book on top.
Waiting for my 
personality to gel

Do you get what I mean? A year when, without planning it to be so, the disparate aspects of your personality melded together and you emerged into the light like the fledgeling human being you continue to be today? Sorry. It's probably too early for such an existential question. I apologise. I'm not trying to mentally tax you on a Bank Holiday Monday. It's just been on my mind recently. Since January, actually.


A young white woman with short brown hair, smiling.

Me in January 1996


I didn't know it at the time, but I think 1996 might have been mine; my year when everything made sense. Before that, I was a child, keeping my head down, counting the days til I could leave school, home, and my immature ways behind. Then 1996 happened. It was truly formative. Seriously. Read this rundown of personal hits I experienced and tell me it won't had have an effect. I dare you. 

  • I turned eighteen
  • I had a cracking 6th form social life
  • I got some A levels
  • I met the person I would eventually marry
  • I left home
  • I moved to a town far away
  • I made new friends for life. 
All that in one year. What a whirlwind. 1995 was nowhere near as eventful, nor 1997. Like the army slogan almost says, it was 1996 that made me. 

Over the years, I've not given that much thought. Not really. But since this January, it's been on my mind a lot. And why's that? It's because, to my absolute disbelief, 1996 is thirty years old. I know! I can't handle it either.

A young white woman with short brown hair is squashed onto a photo with half a friend's face cut off. She looks young and hopeful. It's me.
More me in 1996
The past few months have seen me regularly, yet inadvertently, nudged by the ripples of nostalgia as various anniversaries have popped up. For example, I spent New Year '96 in Clacton. At that point, it was not home to Nigel F*rage, but a boy I really liked. I gave that some thought this year as the clock chimed midnight. Can that really have been thirty years ago? Now, three months later, as I think of that Spring, I remember turning eighteen, having Gina G's Ooh Aah Just a Little Bit playing as a continual ear worm for months, and meeting another boy - actually a man in his twenties - who ended up sticking around. All that in one season. Blimey.

Five twenty somethings are squashed onto a sofa. They're a mix of men and women, white and brown, and are all wearing nineties jeans with baggy tops.
I wanted to live in this house so much.
This is where my nostalgia is up to - the spring of thirty years ago. As this year progresses, I'll be recognising other anniversaries that pop up too. Euro '96,* for example. I was all over it, that summer. In Autumn there'll be memories of moving to Uni and meeting the friends I've still got. Then there are the cultural hits of the day. Did you know that the BBC has added This Life to the iPlayer? It's currently sending me back in time on a nightly basis. If I now watch old episodes of TFI Friday on YouTube or listen to Jagged Little Pill, I'll be fully immersed.

This descent into the past is mostly enjoyable. I'm remembering a personally happy time. Having said that, the rewatch of This Life is reminding me of the cultural and social attitudes of the nineties. It's an honest-to-God time machine that shows how things have definitely got better even when they feel like they've not. The sexism! The homophobia! The racism! All depressingly familiar. Despite that, I like that it reminds me of who I was back then. Pretty similar to who I am now, to be honest. I've just added HRT patches and have less tolerance for bullshit.

Me - a white woman with ling brown hair and blonde fringe is wearing chunky black glasses and a black top. I'm smiling, in a bar, with a circle of ceiling lights hovering over my head.
2026 me!
With a wonky halo
being present in the pub.

Time flies. Everyone says it, don't they? I've heard that sentiment a million times over the years and I know it to be true in my head. This year, I feel it to be true in my bones. Because if those thirty years have passed quickly, so will the next thirty. If 1996 feels like ten minutes ago, then in ten minutes time it'll be 2056. I'll be seventy-eight, with dodgy knees and a bad back. That's if I'm lucky, of course. Nothing can be taken for granted. A boy from my school year died in 1996. I think of him often but particularly on his birthday, which was last week. Ageing is an absolute privilege so making it to seventy-eight with aches and pains will be amazing. And if I AM that lucky, it'll be here before you know it.



 

Bradley Walsh, a middle aged white man is in character in a show talking to someone off camera. He says, 'Live this moment and figure it out later.'
Will do, Bradley.
As 2026 progresses, I'm going to lean in. Lean into the memories, the nostalgia, and the formative experiences that made me, me. It's important, however, to stay in control. Nostalgia is a heady drug but it shouldn't stop me from existing in the present. Every day counts, life is for living, and 2056 will be here in no time. Reminiscing can be fun, but living in the moment is the real sustenance. It's the people I know now, the laughter of current relationships, and the fresh air, great meals, and adventures of today that count. That's what provides fuel and nourishment. 

So now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put down my laptop, and enjoy 2026 for a bit. Albeit with Oasis providing the backing track.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*That opening line from Des Lynam gave me chills. All I was looking for was a nice montage of the footy. Couldn't be more perfect.

Monday, 30 March 2026

A Frenzy of Fun...

It's full steam ahead. Choo Choo! (or something)

An animated girl, with bobbed dark hair and wearing a purple top, is conscientiously writing in a book.
Not to pre-empt the Writing News section below, but it's fair to say that the last two years of quietly constant creation are about to reach fruition. What does that mean? It means I know what my book will look like, and when and where it'll be available. Hurrah!

Obviously, until I've received the final proof and checked every little thing, I'll be keeping my counsel on the details. Just be assured that the past couple of weeks have seen me all of a tizz as I wade through the final stages of admin. More when we have it. 

Me, a white woman with dark hair and a blonde fringe, is sipping from a pint of beer.
Dealing with the
annoying parts
Writing News
That's the exciting bit. Annoyingly, there are plenty of less enjoyable aspects - like how expensive the creating and printing of a book is, compared to my last one. That's been a crappy pill to swallow. Or that no matter how many times I sign off on the final draft, there's still the tiniest imperfection - a spacing error or missed apostrophe - that glares up at me during the next check. I need this book to be over soon before it actually drives me mad.

A poster of The Other Bennet Sister. A young woman, stands between her parents, all in regency period dress. She appears mousy and shy.
Culture
Amid the bookish stress, there's been plenty moments of light relief. Last One Laughing on Prime has been exactly what I've needed to distract myself. Likewise, with a completely different vibe, The Other Bennet Sister on BBC1, has been a joy. I'm still working my way through the book of All the President's Men - it's a tome - and look forward to something lighter and fluffier next. 

A lovely, yet
demented, 
birthday tea
Food and Drink
So much cake! For my birthday, I had a Basque cheese cake. For my partner's, a Guinness and chocolate. The remains of which are both still in the fridge and are offered to anyone who comes near the vicinity. You'll be pleased to know, for closure if nothing else, that my crisps, sour cream, and caviar birthday tea was utterly lovely. The only problem was that it was eaten after a fairly boozy afternoon in the pub. When I woke up the next morning, I was hungover AND starving. Still, who cares! It's one day a year. Here's to the next!

Me, a white woman with brown hair, sitting up in bed, holding a framed poster. It says 'Fuck the patriarchy' on it in psychedelic pink writing and has the illustration of a woman, sticking the finger up at the world.
Opening presents in bed.
This gem was from
my brother.
Out and About
The past week has been particularly crazy. Celebrating both household birthdays has meant multiple meals out. Late nights and fuzzy heads have been standard. Happily, this week, I can retreat a little. I can finalise the book details, I can get a few more hours sleep, and I can be back here next Monday refreshed and raring to go. Yes? Excellent stuff. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 23 March 2026

One Day til Wisdom...

Happy birthday eve to me! 

A dog is dressed in a black leather jacket, silver shorts, silver sunglasses, and a blue cone party hat, and peers around the door as it opens.
Yes, you find me busily preparing for my special day, hell bent on twenty-four hours of raucous hedonism. And what shape will that raucous hedonism take? Well, I'm going to have a bath, go out for lunch, and then drink a couple of gentle afternoon pints. I know! The debauchery!

The real gay abandon will be happening tomorrow evening. I'll be back home in my Pjs - natch - but I've got a once-in-a-year tea planned. My brother's flat mate put me on to it. Ready? You get a plain crisp, add a blob of sour cream, and top it with a spoon of caviar. Ta-da! How fancy does that sound? I've also got a bottle of champagne ready to go. Forty-eight, baby! Not everyone makes it this far. If I want caviar on crisps, I'm pretty sure it's exactly what I should have. Just for one day, like.  
 
The title 'Lights, Camera... Aggro?' is framed by cinema lights, as popcorn, drinks, movie reels, 3D glasses, and movie tickets spill out from the top. All this is presented on a red background.
Writing News
Series Two of the podcast, Lights, Camera, Aggro is ready to drop. On Wednesday the first episode will be available on YouTube. Remember the format? Me and my mate have very different taste in films. We take it in turns to make each other watch a long-held fave, and see how it goes down. On Wednesday, you can hear my first impressions of the absolute classic (that I'd never before felt the need to watch) Star Wars. If that floats your boat, check out the channel here. (FYI, Series 2's sound quality is much improved.)

A busy newsroom in the 70s. Robert Redford, wearing a white shirt and brown trousers, walks towards a college sitting at a desk in front of a type writer.
Culture
I've just started reading Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein's book, All the President's Men. I've seen the film many times, but it's still keeping my interest. I was in the mood for reading about political accountability. Can't think why.

Talking of political thriller vibes, I'm in the middle of a cracking TV series. Does anyone remember State of Play? It was a BBC series from 2003 (there was a film made with the same name.) It's got David Morrissey, John Sim, Kelly McDonald, Polly Walker, and Bill Nighy - big hitters and all brilliant. It's a fictional tale of journalism, police, and politicians being embroiled in... something. Not sure yet. I've got three episodes to go and I can't wait.

A white oval platter with a big portion covered in hummus. There's some meat on top, and then veggies surrounding it - lettuce leaves, radish, carrots, and cucumber.
Food and Drink
It's the calm before the storm. I live with one other person, and we both celebrate birthdays in the same week. Aside from the injustice of having diluted attention on my special day, it means the fridge is rammed with cakes and booze for weeks. With that in mind, I've been eating home made hummus and veggies in the down time before the madness. It's all about the balance.

Out and About
I had a night out in Manchester on Friday. It was excellent! Because I'm the best big sister in the world, my brother took me out for tapas. (By making that sound vague, it simply comes across as a nice gesture from one sibling to the other. Not so. The tapas was in lieu of petrol money for the many lifts I've given him when he's been home for Everton matches. Let's be clear about that.) Anyway, I love a bit of city centre boozing and much fun was had by all.

Next time this blog drops, I'll be a whole year older. I imagine that'll be evident with whatever I write. The wisdom will simply ooze from my words. Hope to see you there, if you can even stand it.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 16 March 2026

A Pastry Break Amid the Chaos...

Oh March, you absolute mofo!

Catherine O'Hara as Moira Rose - a white woman with blonde bobbed hair - is sitting there wafting wet nails and saying, 'Who has time amidst all this chaos?'
Every year it's the same. March is the BUSIEST month. I've just totted it up and there are eight birthdays; birthdays of people I know well enough to send a card and present. Then there are the nights out and catch ups. On top of that, we've had Mother's Day that involved making the post. Plus, what with Easter being early this year (April 5th) there's a bit of prep needed for that too. Finally, and most importantly, it's MY birthday. Hello forty-eight! March is INTENSE.

The thing is, I love it. I like having plans and seeing different people. I like being busy - especially after the cosy hibernation of the new year. This is the time when, having emerged from the Jan/Feb chrysalis, my beautiful butterfly can soar. It just takes organisation. I've currently got March's calendar saved on my desktop. It tells me when I need to have posted cards, when I can fit in time to shop, and when I'm eating out and where. Right now, we're half way through the month and I'm on track so far. Fingers crossed it lasts.

An illustration of a tween girl. She's got olive skin, has brown wavy hair, and is wearing a yellow t shirt under a checked red and white shirt. The expression on her face is quizzical.
Leeza McAuliffe
Writing News
Leeza McAuliffe is Branching Out is complete. I think. The only thing that could change it, is my sister. She was mad busy at the point when I needed beta readers. Now the Easter holidays are imminent, she's got time and is keen to read. I should tell her, 'Nah, it's all done, but thanks anyway,' but the thing is, she's got eyes like a hawk. If there are any remaining typos, missed apostrophes, or general inappropriateness, she'll spot them in an instant. My final draft is locked in, saved as a PDF, and ready to upload. But while I'm waiting for the front cover to be complete, I'll give my sister time to do her thing.

Culture
On Saturday I was at the Royal Albert Hall. Get me! I know what the Royal Albert Hall is because of the Last Night of the Proms. And I know what the Last Night of the Proms is because when I was a kid, I'd get a knitting needle from the bits and bobs drawer and pretend to be the conductor when the orchestra played Rule Britannia. On Saturday night, there wasn't a union jack or string section to be seen on. Nope, it was a live recording of the podcast Off Menu. Loads of laughs, and fab to see Ed Gamble and James Acaster interview Kiell Smith Byone.

Meanwhile, I'm quietly smug about my 2026 reading habit. I'm still averaging a book a week, still trying not to be competitive about it, and still enjoying filling my head with words. I've just read Nick Hornby's Juliet, Naked, and I'm about to reread Camp by LC Rosen.

A white woman with long brown hair is talking to someone at a street food stall. She's holding a paper bag and says, 'I'm in an unhealthy relationship with these almond croissants.'
Who says the perfect gif doesn't exist?
Food and Drink
Despite what I said at the top of the blog, I had two very lazy days in the week. Due to the convergence of my period along with being home alone, there was a chunk of last week that could be poetically entitled 'Wallowing in Pastry.' I couldn't be faffed to cook, didn't have the energy to do much more than read/type in bed, and so any food items needed to be handheld and cold. In related news, aren't almond croissants lovely?* I saw off more than a couple last week and they hit the spot perfectly. Now? I'm cooking for two (not pregnant - just no longer home alone) and I'm post-menstrual. It's back to the veg and the balance of it all.

A brightly lit stage with a visible crowd watching from the audience. Three men stand on it, waving to the crowd. James Acaster, a white man with red hair, Kielle Smith Bynoe, a black man with black hair, and Ed Gamble, a white man with brown hair.
James, Kiell, and Ed at the ROH
Out and About
Yep, I had my second London jaunt within a month. It's just the way it worked out - defo not the norm. Two weeks ago I was catching up with Uni mates and this time I was catching up with my podcast friends. (Ed and James, right?) Beyond that, I had a lovely potter around Highgate Cemetery - it's the most calming place to visit - and ate a fit Sunday roast. Back in Merseyside for the foreseeable now.

Did you have a good International Women's Day? A happy Mother's Day? Have you enjoyed yourself lately? What with my busy-ness, it's easy to forget to enjoy it too. Let's all stop, take a moment to clock the fun, and then keep on having it,
yeah? Yeah.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*I'm now questioning whether croissants are pastry and I don't think they are. They're bready, aren't they? But the flakiness? Bread doesn't do that! Someone check with Mary Berry and get back to me.