As the enormity of what’s happened starts to sink in, I’ve realised that I have less stuff now than when I left home at 17, the only difference is that I have a husband and two dogs, oh and some vehicles

Last year my best friend, a friend I had had for 34 years suddenly stopped communicating with me, whilst there may have been a myriad of reasons, it was hard to not take it personally, the grief and anger I had, overwhelmed me at times and ate away at me, the realisation that I would never have such a friendship again, it was 34 years worth of friendship, marriages, births, deaths, breakdowns and of course laughter, joy and all the other stuff of life…….

I realised that I would never have a friendship like that again, I don’t have enough time in front of me to formulate it….well I may have but I doubt very much that I will…….I learnt valuable lessons about myself and how much I had invested in something that could so easily be thrown or taken away…it was a hard lesson to learn

I can’t compare the loss of that friendship with the loss of a house, but the feelings are the same…..and I’m guessing the lessons are the same too……the attachments I had to my things, the things that I had collected from all over the world

the fabrics that I had dragged across Central and North America, literally on my back, overland, the amazing tin collection that had taken me since I was 17 to amass, mostly priceless and very rare…none of it I can or will ever have again, I can’t possibly conceive of starting it all again, so I won’t…it’s only stuff, it didn’t really matter, the attachment I had to it was probably unhealthy and to be honest I hardly ever looked at the tin collection, it never came out of it’s boxes and the fabrics I was too sentimental about to ever cut up of turn into something else…all a bit like a museum of my life….very Miss Haversham…..a bit depressing in a way

I think, on some level we would all like to be able to let go of something, but whilst that “something” is still in front of us or in existence, we can practice it and some may even achieve it, some pay a fortune for it, spending years meditating or living some kind of monastic life but do we ever really “let go”. It takes a certain kind of honesty to admit that a) you may have an attachment and then b) to admit that you haven’t really let go. This event has given me the opportunity to grow and understand in a way that obviously no-one would want, but it has happened and there’s nothing anyone can do about it, accepting it and learning from it, asking better questions and doing things differently is all that is required

so, here we go again

ourlifehandmade part two, stay tuned

bye bye baby

some of you may remember a rather sentimental post about my car :

well, despite my best efforts to keep her, I am having to let her go. It’s not good for an old car to sit in storage forever, unless all you want to do is look at it occasionally, we need the money and I’ve had to make the very hard decision to let her go to a new home. I have had the best 2cv mechanic in the world and when he asked if I would sell her to his son, it just felt like the right thing to do. I’m trying not to be too depressed about the whole thing, we can now get some much needed building supplies and whilst it breaks my heart and I weirdly feel disloyal I know that her departure is making space for something new to come in I hope it will be another quirky car or maybe one of these????


but given our current financial status, it’s more likely to be something like one of these


bye bye Valentine

food of love

marriage is a difficult thing, some would say it’s the most difficult thing you will ever do, whether you are officially married or not, it takes work, compromise, patience, discipline and a lot of love.


I live with a man who loves his food, he loves different foods from me and generally that’s ok it work’s,  it take’s a lot of discipline on my part to not eat everything he eats and it takes some compromise on his part to eat the things I want to eat.

One thing is certain, I have learnt, that the way to my husband’s heart is through his stomach or less his stomach but more his desires for things to put in his stomach. When we met each other I had never made a cake in my life, having not come from a home of baking or even puddings for that matter, his childhood was very different, they always had puddings and at least one cake a week……..


For the first few years he didn’t ask me for anything special in the kitchen, I was commuting to London everyday and rarely had time to think straight let alone bake a cake but since we moved to Portugal and I have more free time, I’m able to indulge him and I love it, it makes him so happy and that in turn makes me happy, call me old fashioned, I don’t care, but that is (for me anyway) all that matters, it works, it’s the easiest thing, it doesn’t take a lot, just the desire, the desire to do whatever it takes to make someone happy without sacrificing very much at all.

So when he asks for bounty bars and he’s worked his heart out all week, that’s what I do, take the morning off and indulge him


Happy eating