Friday, 30 September 2011

Friday notes

Dear Old Man & Old Lady, 
It's been pretty sunny today, so I was feeling warm anyway, but seeing you two together warmed my heart too. Sorry if it was inappropriate of me to take a picture of the two of you, but you reminded me of my grandparents and that was precious.
A heart warmed passerbyer
PS. Were you not too hot in your jumper old man? Just wondering.

Dearest darlingest Momsie & Popsical, 
That's a reference to Wicked by the way. You know, the musical. Just letting you know that Ross & I booked tickets yesterday to go and see it in December, so that you can be adequately jealous. I know that you will be.
Lots of love, 
Your daughter that is not ashamed to rub my good fortune in your face

Dear late September weather, 
You have been so pleasant the last few days. You even encouraged me to take a walk today, and if you knew the size of the hill I have to climb to get to park, you would know how much of a big deal that is. Anyways, I'm grateful for your late visit. Stay a little longer if you like. You're definitely welcome.
A lightly sun kissed friend

Dear Greece
We will keep hold of your weather while you try to sort out your Euro crisis. We know, we know, we're doing you a favour - the sun would only distract you, and you have some important decisions to make. You can thank us later.
Good luck, 
A sunny England

Dear Annie, Katie, Grays, & Sally, 
I miss living with you, my friends. I wish that I could still call you my housies. Do any of you want to go to Red Hot Buffet next week, for a night of catching up and over eating? (Sounds like perfection, no?)
Kisses and hugs, 
Your nostalgic friend.
PS. CHLOE, this offer extends to you too!

Dear blog friends, 
Thank you for being here today (name that film)! I appreciate you very much.

Hugs & kisses to all involved!

Thursday, 29 September 2011

From Morocco, with love

Even though a photo is sometimes sufficient enough to help you capture a moment and remember it forever, that was not the case with Morocco.
The dry heat, the aromatic fragrance of the spices, the shapes, the colours, the patterns, the constant hum of noise, the toothless grins and the bartering.
Oh, the bartering. 
People are on you all.the.time.
Putting things round your neck, drapping things over your wrists, saying "give me five euros for this bracelet. It's beautiful, for a beautiful girl. It's the hand of Fatima, very lucky."
Ross bought a fez hat. The camel man that sold it to him wanted €50 at first...he eventually settled for €5. 
Unbelievable. I couldn't make this stuff up. 

Well, there are enough pictures for me to only use minimal words, but first, two points. 
1). The picture of Chlo & Jared with the camel absolutely cracks me up.
The camel is definitely getting in on the cheesy grin action.
2). That picture of Ross, the one on the left, oh be still my heart.
What a stud.

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

Thinking of original content takes too much time...

...And too much energy, which frankly, I'm lacking in today.
So instead, here's a repost of a little summin summin that has a high level of  irony, and is as true today as when I first wrote it....
Apart from replace the Come Dine With Me's with Eastenders.

 I am too busy to think of a title today. 

In fact, I am too busy to even write a blog post today. 
Trying to think of something that is even remotely funny, witty, insightful or possibly all of the above is just out of the question. 
And don't even make me think about how much time it takes for me to scroll through my albums of pictures to find the one that I actually want to use. 
And then there is the whole part about semi obsessively checking back on my blog to see if a kind soul or two has commented (rarely happens). 
I am serious. 
So serious that you should check out the massive stack of Come Dine With Me's that I have recorded (at least 33) that I haven't watched yet. 
Because I honestly love Come Dine With Me. 
But really I don't even have time to write about how truly unbelievable it is. 
 I need to dedicate my waking hours to boring, BORING, BORING research and ethics readings and other school junk. 
(Don't tell the lecturers that I called it junk. They will give me bad grades.) 
And who can afford to get a bad grade and to have to rewrite an essay? 
Because I'm far too busy. 
I definitely don't have to time to waste. 
Like by watching clips on youtube. 
(Even though I am still completely flabbergasted by this.) 
It makes me laugh it is so incredible.
 But don't you even think that I have time to be laughing now. 
I am so busy and it is no laughing matter. 
And let's try to avoid thinking about the fact when I was tidying at the weekend I forgot to do the spare the bedroom. 
Let's especially not think about it because it's cold in there and it is full of random stuff that has to be manoeuvred if you want to clean properly. 
And then there are all the unavoidables and unmissables. 
Brushing teeth, reading scriptures, showering, dropping Ross off at work, making approximately 17 glasses of orange squash, calling & hanging up on Ross at least once, making an edible dinner (actually, I like cooking, my dinners are always edible, it's when Ross cooks that we start to have problems) and lastly, writing my blog. 
Which I am far too busy to write today. 
(I'm serious.) 

Monday, 26 September 2011

There aren't enough days in the weekend

Here are a few reasons why this weekend was the bomb dot com.
♥ Over usage of the phrase 'the bomb dot com' in loud American accents.
♥ Emily coming to visit for the weekend.
♥ All of the TREATS that Emily brought for us.
We would have enjoyed her visit anyway, but treats made it 100x better.
♥ The new season of Modern Family starting.
One question though, WHY IS LILY SO BIG?!
♥ Sleeping in until 10am on Saturday morning.
♥ Hair bows.
And I mean actual bows made of hair.
Emily was accomodating and let me practice on her. 
That there pictcha is of the first draft.
♥ Starting a new book.
♥ Clean sheets on the bed.
♥ Going on a ghost walk in York & Ross making me jump so badly that I cried a little bit.
I am not even joking.

Sunday, 25 September 2011


I've seen this here list of ABC questions circulating round the blogiverse for the last week, and in a moment of lacking inspiration and an uneventful afternoon, I decide to jump on the band wagon.

Age: The ripe old age of 21.
Bed size: King. And even so we'd like bigger.
Chore you hate: Cleaning the bathroom. I'll relatively willingly do any.other.chore, but cleaning the bathroom? No thanks.
Dogs: Never had one. My parents always told us that my Dad was allergic to cats & dogs...I don't actually think that he is though. Cheeky parentals. I've only ever had four fish. Maud, Minnie, Peter Pan & Captain Hook. But I fed them too much and they died. Tragic story.
Essential start of your day: Washing my face. The day hasn't started until I have a clean face.
Favorite color: PURPLE! Close second, yellow.
Gold or silver: Invent a time machine & ask me that question two years ago and I would have silver without even thinking about it. Now though...most of my jewellery is gold. Go figure.
Height: 5'9 or 5"10...I'm not sure. Above average anyway.
Instruments I play (or have played): I used to have piano lesson when I was about 8 years old. But i hated practicing and my piano teacher's house smelled weird, so I begged my Mom to let me stop. She let me quit but said I would regret it. Whaddayaknow. I do regret it.
Job title: I'm a part time nanny and a full time teaching student.
Kids: No. I do want some though, but not soon.
Live: Currently.... Leeds. But born and raised in Sheffield.
Mom's name: Caroline.
Nickname: Tuts, Chuch (those two are parents only nicknames...sometimes Ross winds me up by calling me Tuts), Becks, Beady, honeypie, any other ridiculous pet name
Overnight hospital stays: Not yet. I've never even broken a bone.
Pet peeve: People who leave a trail of stuff behind them everywhere that they go. JUST TIDY UP AFTER YOURSELVES!
Quote from a movie: Not an inspirational one, just a hilarious one. From 'The Ringer' "Oh my stars, for the love of Liza!"
Right or left handed: Right.
Siblings: Just two younger brudders. Richard & Sam.
Time you wake up: Depends on the day. 6:20 if I'm working, 7:20 if I have a 9am lecture, any time on a Saturday and 8:30 on a Sunday.
Underwear: I don't exactly know what this question means. Yes, I wear underwear. And it always matches.
Vegetables you dislike: Aubergine.
What makes you run late: When Ross sleeps in because he thinks he doesn't take as long as me to get ready, but then he gets up and takes AGES. This is also a pet peeve.
X-rays you've had done: Never had one. Oh, I have, on my teeth.
Yummy food you make: Errrr....courgette enchiladas, sausage and tomato casserole and stuffed peppers. They are my favourites.
Zoo animal: Flamingos. Anything that is naturally that colour gets my vote.

Friday, 23 September 2011

Stay still please, Marbella

I'm not going to get too wordy, because there are enough pictures for me not to have to.
(Does that sentence even make sense? I'm not even sure.)
But let me just make a few points.

1). We got pretty horribly lost. 
And usually getting lost would've been pretty annoying, but I snapped picture numbero 4 whilst we were driving round (and round and round) and figured there were worse places to be lost in.

2). The amount of pictures of wandering around Marbella old town and pictures from the beach are proportional to my enjoyment of both activities. 
I love to see things and take pictures of things and get easily bored at the beach.
Although we did see thong man at the beach (you can't miss him! He's a 2:40 of the video), which sweetened the entire day. 

3). The sea looks a horrible murky colour in the picture of me & Ross, but it wasn't.
It was perfectly clear, but just looks gross because of all the swirling sand.

4). This is all I have to say on the matter.

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Chinese encounters

It's been a while since I had a notable encounter with any Chinese people.
Correction, it had been a while. 
Up until yesterday.

The phone rings whilst I'm at work.
(I have no idea why this family has so many people cold calling them all the time, 
but they have at least two a day.
I wish that all of them were Chinese people.)

Me: Hell-o
Chinese lady: Herro
Me: Hello.
Chinese lady: Oh, herro.
Is this Mrs M-C-I-L-R-O-Y?
(At this point I'm smirking to myself and wondering if she spells out everyone's name over the phone or if she just couldn't pronounce this one.)
Me: McIlroy?
Erm, no. She's at work. 
Chinese lady: Are you fam-i-ly member?
Me: No, sorry.
Chinese lady: Ho-k.
 Are you just a close friend then?
Me: Ermmm...I'm just the nanny actually.
Chinese lady: .........Ho-k. Thank you very much.

Dial tone. 

I have absolutely no idea if asking me if I was a close friend was part of her script o if she just wanted to settle her own curiosity, 
but I was smiling as I hung up the phone.

I love me some Chinese people.

Tuesday, 20 September 2011

The story of the road less travelled

In the imaginary world in my mind I live out an existence of fulfilled proverbs and cliches.
The idea of adventure and possibility encourages me to take the road less travelled, so in my imaginary world, I do.

In reality and in no metaphorical sense at all the only way I get onto the road less travelled is by being led astray by a rogue sat nav whilst I'm trying to find a village in the Spanish mountains. 
So when I say I'm about to tell you the story of the road less travelled, I mean I'm literally about to tell you a story about how we got lost up a mountain in Spain, definitely on the road less travelled. 
Probably on the road that's never travelled actually.
"Mmmk, it says that after this next bend, we get to a fork in the road and we go right."
We slowly round the corner and see the aforementioned fork in the road.
Ross indicates to turn and slows right down.
"Are we sure that it's this way?
Left looks like it'll take us to Mijas."
I look at the sat nav and then back at the road.
I'm pretty certain that it's telling us to go right.
Even though going right takes us onto a little dirt track before we get onto the actual road that I can see 100 yards in front of us.
Admittedly it looks a little bit suspect, but I'm in a foreign country where they drive on the other side of the road and I have absolutely no knowledge of it's geography, so I decide that we're not going to try and second guess it and we're going to do as the sat nav says.
"Yep, it says right. Why would the sat nav say right if it's actually left?
....We can always turn around if it's wrong."

Five minutes later and the sun is starting to set over one of the most beautiful views I've seen in my entire life.
Think lots of mountains, street lights that are starting to twinkle in the distance, the setting sun reflecting off the distant sea and far away on the horizon the always beautiful white buildings of the Spanish coastal towns.

Two minutes later and the beautiful view is out of sight.
The sun that was so beautiful reflecting on the sea is now a precious friend that is quickly slipping away.
The twinkling street lights in the distance are gone and instead there is a sheer drop of 500m into a rocky ravine.
The road slims down into a skinny one laner and the road side barrier is no more.
And to top it all off, the sat nav just gives up as if to say 'sorry, even I don't know where this road goes. Your on your own, suckers.'

I never knew that my best friend Chloe is afraid of heights.
Correction, I never knew that she is absolutely, flat out terrified of heights, but when she starts crying in the back seat and begging us to turn around, I figure it out pretty quickly.
"I knew we should have gone left.
Please can we turn around.

"Chlo, we physically can't turn around.
The road just isn't wide enough."

We all take it in turns to try and comfort her.
We try to placate her with soothing words, we try to distract her with the beautiful view we keep catching glimpses of and we try to lift her spirit with humour.
All the while we're slowly climbing higher and higher up the mountain with no choice other than to keep on going.

Eventually her cries soften to a panicked whimper and she lays her head down on the back seat so she can't see the heightening drop on the other side of the window.
The occasional 'wows' from Ross, both at the view and the sharpness of the bends in the road either elicit a "please stop looking at the view and concentrate on the road" or a "Ross, be careful, be careful.  Go slowly."

After fifteen minutes of still finding no where to safely turn around, there suddenly aren't any mountains higher that us anymore and even I start to get a bit panicky.
My heart pounds as I anxiously look at the road ahead and pray that we will be safe.

Ross loves every second of the whole the adventure.
He's the driver and feels safe knowing that he's in control of the car. 
He drives slowly and cautiously and announces when we're about to drive over a bump in the road, so that we all expect it and don't freak out.
But bless his heart, in highly tense situations, without thinking of how his comments will sound, he turns to what he thinks is humour.
"Well guys, don't worry. If we were to plunge over the edge I'm pretty sure we'd be dead before we know it."
That was the final thing that pushed Chloe over the edge of her composure.
She sits up in the back, now crying again and declares to us all "I'm not ready to die."

Luckily we soon found somewhere to turn around and managed to make it to Mijas without plunging to our death.
I've always like the poem 'The Road Not Taken' by Robert Frost and here's one thing that I've learnt about it...
Taking the road less travelled is good in a metaphorical sense, but that is all.
When you're driving in a foreign country and have no idea where you're going, always, always take the road most travelled.

Monday, 19 September 2011

Espana in moving pictures

You may or may not have 
(I'll be realistic and go for the latter) 
noticed that I've been on holiday for the last week.
I enjoyed the Spanish sun 
(and the African sun for one day as a matter of fact)
 for an entire week and loved every minute.
There was lots of time around the pool, 
time spent exploring the gorgeous white streets of the little Spanish towns, 
time getting lost up a very large mountain, 
time eating tapas, 
time drinking peach juice
and time just generally loving life.

I have a few stories to tell you and even more pictures than that, 
but to start with, 
here is a little video. 
Enjoy *mis amigos.

*I spent a week in Spain and now think that I can speak Spanish.
In reality, I can not.

Monday, 12 September 2011

Right now

Here's a little sum for you.
Me & Ross + Chlo & J-rad + the East coast of Spain = Good times

Maybe its is a little presumptuous of me, 
seeing as I'm writing this ahead of time, 
to presume that I'm having a good time.
But whatevs.

I'm on holiday in sunny Spain (again presumptuous), 
with my hubs, 
my best friend & her hubs, 
the traditional white buildings of a Spanish village
and the beach and a pool.

How could I not be having the best time ever?

Friday, 9 September 2011

Jokes jokes

Before I even write this post, let me first apologise - 
I feel like I have become a bit of a Mommy blogger and I don't even have any children.
But that's what looking after two nippers will do to you.
Especially when they crack you up on a daily basis.

Amy: Becky, do you know any funny jokes?
Me: Erm...what's orange and sounds like a parrot?
(That one is a personal favourite of mine!)
Amy: A carrot?
Me: Yes, a carrot. 
Because carrots are orange and carrot rhymes with parrot.
If a joke needs explaining, it quickly loses its funny.
Saying that, she is only 5.
Amy: I know one.
What did the Mummy chimney say to the baby chimney?
Becky! Your meant to say you don't know!
Me: Oh. Sorry. 
What did the Mummy chimney say to the baby chimney?
Amy: Your too young to smoke missy!

And then she manically laughed for a straight minute.

I did too.
Not because of the joke, which admittedly wasn't bad for a 5 year old, but because she said the entire joke in a cheesy American accent.

When I asked her why, she didn't even know that she'd done it.

And when I thought back to when I overheard her playing in her bedroom - the time she fell over the baby squirrel no less, that was in an American accent too.

That girl watches too much iCarly!

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Pork/port chops

I'm a big fan of ridic-u-lous pet names.
Honeypie, pumpkin eyes, sugar lump, oaty cakes, cute-and-delicious-frosted-cupcake.
The more farcical the better.
(Please know that even I don't take myself seriously, so please, don't you do it either.)
I've been using pet names for a long time now.
Ross sometimes like in on the action.
He sent me this text a few nights ago.
"What you doing pork chop?"
Surprisingly pork chop is a name that I've never used before.
But I love it.
So I text him back and told him to add pork chop into the rotation of regularly used pet names.
Only I didn't say pork chop.
My stupid fingers typed in port chop instead, which Ross found kinda hilarious.
I did too when he pointed it out.
So now we have two new names.
Pork chop & port chop.
I love both equally.

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Bad dream

Something bad happened last night.
Not like the-world-is-ending-and-we're-all-going-to-die kind of bad, but you know, pretty bad.
Pretty-ish bad.

Basically at 4:14am I had a dream that we had a power cut whilst we were sleeping.
Not so bad, I know, but because of the power cut my alarm clock didn't go off the next morning.
So I overslept by approximately 2.4 hours which meant that I was late for work, 
which meant that my boss was late for work, 
which meant she was really mad with me even though a power cut is pretty legit and nothing to do with me, 
which meant that she fired me.
See. prettyish bad.

And that's not even the worst part.
Because between me waking up at 4:14am and my alarm actually going of at 6:20am, I woke up to check the time 400 times.
At least.

Bad night's sleep.

And Becky after a bad night's sleep usually makes for a grumpy Becky.
Poor Ross.

Tuesday, 6 September 2011

This is how we roll

Sometimes we have family parties.

Always they involve cups of tea for the older members of la famille, 
trampoline bouncing, that may or may not encourage younger members of the fam to pretend that they can fly, 
excellent desserts that I will inevitably eat too many of and end up with a food baby, 
 and some kind of celebratory singing.
(Happy Birthday Chlo!)

On Saturday we had a family party and for the first time ever, ever in our entire family history, we had a pinata.
It's day later now and I'm still left shrugging my shoulders and asking myself why we have never had one before.
Such hilarity.

The babe of the family Natalie took to beating the floor and nearly injured a few people and other members of the family swung the rolling pin so furiously that I think if they'd have been sent to London during the riots they'd have sent the rioters home crying.
I have was the first one to make that poor pinata share its treasure.
(I'm quite proud of that fact.)

Plus, it has sweets as a guaranteed outcome.