Life lessons Vs Resolutions

bedroom

It’s that time of year.

But I don’t believe in new year resolutions.

I believe in

Looking back.

It’s that time of year.

I am reliving the times of frustration, sadness, overwhelming happiness and achievement over the past 345 days.

Looking forward.

I start to plan the future and digest the life lessons that I have received.

My mind jumps back to November.

Heart pounding, I crash into the spin studio at the gym. I’m late. By this I mean I have arrived five minutes early for the class, but a minute too late to procure my trusty spin bike. Nestling quietly in the corner in the back row, my trusty companion now had a new owner. My chance of back row, dimly lit anonymity had vanished.

The 90s House and Garage starts to pumps as the situation gets worse.   The only bike left is at the front of class. The bikes reserved for the ‘Gym Fit ‘ Girls (GFGs). The type that run to the gym in Dry Fit outfits that colour co-ordinate with their Free Runners: gym hair (high messy pony) and perfect face of nude make up complete the uniform.

I am not her.

Nor do I want to be.

But the pressure and fear of sitting on that bike was real. As I mounted the pedestal bike, I could hear myself doling out the obligatory compliments, apologies and excuses for my presence and upcoming performance.  Gripped with fear, I hear the pace of the music picking up.  I approach effort level 11 worried about what I must look like compared to my GFG neighbours.

Rationally you can tell yourself “Nobody has the energy to waste looking at you!” And it’s true. But then we get to the Solo Sprints. The part of the class where everyone has to stop spinning and watch you, as your row sprint as fast as they can for 60 seconds. Even safe on old faithful, in my dimly lit corner, I’d fear this part of the class. And now, being in the front row, I had the honour of going last.

As I wait for our turn to “..show the class how it’s done!” my anxiety mounts.  The Mexican wave of sprinting spinners descends on the front row like a tsunami.   The buzzer sounded and instinctively I just closed my eyes.  And then the most liberating thing happened.

I was alone.

I stopped worrying about what I looked like to others. Stopped worrying that I didn’t belong there. All I cared about was cycling as fast as I could.

I had stopped worrying about how I was perceived by others.

I remember the anxiety I first felt when starting to write my blog.  The feeling of vulnerability and exposure and judgment.  The concern of what my family and friends would think of my writing. My parenting skills.  My questionable gym wear choices.

But the less I worry about other people’s perceptions – the happier I am.

Whether I fail or succeed, I am happier.  I am free.

And that is my life lesson for 2015.

What’s yours?

Diaries of a Gardening Novice……From start to finished (for now )

garden

Diaries of a Gardening Novice

January

My father was an amazing gardener, from Callaloo to Corn he grew all types of local and tropical treats in our garden in the deepest darkest depths of Peckham, London.   So you could say that gardening is in my blood.. I wouldn’t, just like his cooking skills, it seems this talent may have skipped my generation.

But I do have the passion.

This is the continuing journey of how our back garden will become a secret escape..

BH xx

And so the journey begins.

And so the journey begins…

February

The vision is growing… I have seen the promised land, its just buried under all of this clay and brick. As I begin to dig, I ponder starting a Gardenise exercise class, surely everyone is over Zumba, and who doesn’t want toned arms? I make a personal note to email Gymbox the next day.

I have seen the promised land.

I have seen the promised land.

March

Ok…so gardening is not sexy. The previous thoughts of toned arms are long lost in the cold realities of British Winter time and dirty finger nails, but the progress is steady… Until it all turns a bit Stephen Kingish and everything comes to a sudden halt. As my mother is a history and archaeology fanatic, I have grown up with the delusion the Earth beneath our feet is just waiting to reveal its treasure. So what was history’s gift to me, well it seemed to have fur, a disregarded Victorian teddy bear perhaps? Alas no, on closer inspection I see a cat paw, as memories of Pet Cemetary flash before me I throw down my spade and seek sanctuary and sympathy in the arms of the Mr. This month’s personal note is to call the council’s special disposal unit. Gardening is definitely not sexy.

What lies beneath

What lies beneath

April

Encouraged by Sunshine, (imaginary) butterflies and the support of my fellow bloggers (Roses delightPam and Maria Mahreeaaah amongst others. 😉 I pushed the murky Stephen Kingesque past behind me and battled on.

And it is an ongoing battle.  When I think of my ideal garden space, I dream of a flat, sunny, spacious affair… Alas just like me, my little patch is far less than perfect.  Yet albeit, shady, sloped and wide, MLP seems to embrace it’s “challenging” label, and so,  inspired by it’s non-conformist beauty I labour on. With memories of my time in Portugal, a terraced wonderland springs to mind, and the words “shovel”, “mallet” and “bad back” (amongst other less flowery words) spring to my lips.

It was however worth it, as this was my chance to put all of my “research” (pronounced “cyberspace procrastination”) into good use and start buying and planting :-). As you can see from the pictures, I didn’t go “craaayzey” (pronounced “like Solange in the lift“) with the purchases.  With a baby and new mortgage on the way, I had to get “creative” with the budget.  Fortunately, with my friends and family and freecycle.org, that wasn’t so difficult and actually quite fun!

One step at a time

One step at a time

April

Let the planting begin

May

My raking handy work had paid off…I had created perfectly flat platforms ready to go forth and prosper.  Then my brain received a phone call..

“Hello….It’s the Brixton Housewife here and I think spontaneity is fun!”

In comes a change of plan and a quick google search for garden ponds…

BH xx

Wait... I know what I can do now I've flattened the ground..

Wait… I know what I can do now I’ve flattened the ground..

June

After my last minute pond purchase,  I felt that I also needed a Buddha…  Yes random, but it looks down directly into the back bedroom sending peaceful energy and sweet dreams to all who reside there…OK that isn’t actually guaranteed, but as I bought the Buddha from a charity shop I know that my money has gone to a good cause! Bring on the Karma… and peaceful energy and sweet dreams.

It's beginning to take shape..

It’s beginning to take shape..

I really enjoyed buying all the different plants; I searched local nurseries, markets and friends gardens for any and every cheap shade loving plant.  Covering the soil with wood chip will hopefully save on weeding and also makes the garden look almost “finished” [Please imagine this last sentence being said in an expert gardener voice]

BH xx

July, August and September

I’m beginning to think that all those last minute ‘random’ purchases may have been fuelled by all those ‘crazy’ pregnancy hormones .. Oh the joys of bump life!  Fast forward to October and gone are the topiary dilemmas and enter the diaper demands.  That said, I still kept a special place in my heart for my little patch of green and the gardening journey continued. So here are the latest pictures, and hopefully a picture will speak a thousand words (as the whole “new mum” thing meant I didn’t have time to write them).

July

Sorry no pictures for July, that’s when I started focusing on the nursery inside the house.. (The room that it just so happens is over looked by the Buddha)

August

Big Bump and Green Fingers

Big Bump and Green Fingers

The rustic look...

The decking was really simple to lay.  I purchased four decking sheets from a high street shop and told my husband to “make it work”.. and he certainly did.  All in all, it took less than a day to lay and in total cost less than £100.  Not bad, not bad at all.

September

The Garden in Bloom

This entry should really be called “The Woodchip Chronicles”. I can’t explain the joy of slashing open a bag of wood chip and sprinkling the little pieces of bark over the garden like fairy dust… And as if by magic, the purple flowers behind the pond bloomed as a complete surprise to me, this is why I love gardening.  The black tail photo bombing in the foreground belongs to our pet Ceefor, and that’s why I love cats ;-).

aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

Birds Eye View

Birds Eye View

Funky Budha

Funky Budha

 

 

 

 

 

Inspirational Blog Award

livingroom
Feeling inspired?

Feeling inspired?

As a new blogger I am often overwhelmed by the support and kindness that I have received from the blogging community.  I have been nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger award by the beautiful and talented Maria; please take the time to visit her fantastic blog  http://mariabrinkley.com/ and explore Australia from the comfort of her backyard to yours 😉    I love these awards because they give me the opportunity to discover new blogs and corners of cyberspace previously unexplored.    

Here are my 10 blogs that I nominate:

http://thelondonplaneblog.wordpress.com/ 

 http://seemeblackfeministhought.wordpress.com/

http://thedadcreche.wordpress.com/

http://riverwriterblog.wordpress.com/

http://dailyqoutesde27.wordpress.com/

http://theeverydaychronicles.com/ 

 http://rahelapetrescu.wordpress.com/

http://yahgoziemedia.com/

http://squooze.wordpress.com/

http://thesleepsong.wordpress.com/

Enjoy!

BH xx

 

If you have been nominated please read below x

Here are the guidelines for the award:

  1. Thank and link the person who nominated you.
  2. List the rules and display the award.
  3. Share seven facts about yourself.  (To see mine please see my Liebster Award post)
  4. Nominate 15 other amazing blogs and comment on their posts to let them know they have been nominated.
  5. Optional: Proudly display the award logo on your blog and follow the blogger who nominated you.

 

Happy Exploring!
BH xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diaries of a Gardening Novice May

garden

Diaries of a gardening novice

May

My raking handy work had paid off…I had created perfectly flat platforms ready to go forth and prosper.  Then my brain received a phone call..

“Hello….It’s the Brixton Housewife here and I think spontaneity is fun!”

In comes a change of plan and a quick google search for garden ponds…

 

BH xx

Wait... I know what I can do now I've flattened the ground..

Wait… I know what I can do now I’ve flattened the ground..

April

Encouraged by Sunshine, (imaginary) butterflies and the support of my fellow bloggers (Roses delightPam and Maria Mahreeaaah amongst others. 😉 I pushed the murky Stephen Kingesque past behind me and battled on.

And it is an ongoing battle.  When I think of my ideal garden space, I dream of a flat, sunny, spacious affair… Alas just like me, my little patch is far less than perfect.  Yet albeit, shady, sloped and wide, MLP seems to embrace it’s “challenging” label, and so,  inspired by it’s non-conformist beauty I labour on. With memories of my time in Portugal, a terraced wonderland springs to mind, and the words “shovel”, “mallet” and “bad back” (amongst other less flowery words) spring to my lips.

It was however worth it, as this was my chance to put all of my “research” (pronounced “cyberspace procrastination”) into good use and start buying and planting :-). As you can see from the pictures, I didn’t go “craaayzey” (pronounced “like Solange in the lift“) with the purchases.  With a baby and new mortgage on the way, I had to get “creative” with the budget.  Fortunately, with my friends and family and freecycle.org, that wasn’t so difficult and actually quite fun!

One step at a time

One step at a time

April

Let the planting begin

 

March

Ok…so gardening is not sexy. The previous thoughts of toned arms are long lost in the cold realities of British Winter time and dirty finger nails, but the progress is steady… Until it all turns a bit Stephen Kingish and everything comes to a sudden halt. As my mother is a history and archaeology fanatic, I have grown up with the delusion the Earth beneath our feet is just waiting to reveal its treasure. So what was history’s gift to me, well it seemed to have fur, a disregarded Victorian teddy bear perhaps? Alas no, on closer inspection I see a cat paw, as memories of Pet Cemetary flash before me I throw down my spade and seek sanctuary and sympathy in the arms of the Mr. This month’s personal note is to call the council’s special disposal unit. Gardening is definitely not sexy.

What lies beneath

What lies beneath

February

The vision is growing… I have seen the promised land, its just buried under all of this clay and brick. As I begin to dig, I ponder starting a Gardenise exercise class, surely everyone is over Zumba, and who doesn’t want toned arms? I make a personal note to email Gymbox the next day.

I have seen the promised land.

I have seen the promised land.

 

January

My father was an amazing gardener, from Callaloo to Corn he grew all types of local and tropical treats in our garden in the deepest darkest depths of Peckham, London.   So you could say that gardening is in my blood.. I wouldn’t, just like his cooking skills, it seems this talent may have skipped my generation.

But I do have the passion.

This is the continuing journey of how our back garden will become a secret escape..

BH xx

And so the journey begins.

And so the journey begins.

 

Diaries of a Gardening Novice April

garden

Diaries of a gardening novice

April

Encouraged by Sunshine, (imaginary) butterflies and the support of my fellow bloggers (Roses delightPam and Maria Mahreeaaah amongst others. 😉 I pushed the murky Stephen Kingesque past behind me and battled on.

And it is an ongoing battle.  When I think of my ideal garden space, I dream of a flat, sunny, spacious affair… Alas just like me, my little patch is far less than perfect.  Yet albeit, shady, sloped and wide, MLP seems to embrace it’s “challenging” label, and so,  inspired by it’s non-conformist beauty I labour on. With memories of my time in Portugal, a terraced wonderland springs to mind, and the words “shovel”, “mallet” and “bad back” (amongst other less flowery words) spring to my lips.

It was however worth it, as this was my chance to put all of my “research” (pronounced “cyberspace procrastination”) into good use and start buying and planting :-). As you can see from the pictures, I didn’t go “craaayzey” (pronounced “like Solange in the lift“) with the purchases.  With a baby and new mortgage on the way, I had to get “creative” with the budget.  Fortunately, with my friends and family and freecycle.org, that wasn’t so difficult and actually quite fun!

One step at a time

One step at a time

April

Let the planting begin

 

March

Ok…so gardening is not sexy. The previous thoughts of toned arms are long lost in the cold realities of British Winter time and dirty finger nails, but the progress is steady… Until it all turns a bit Stephen Kingish and everything comes to a sudden halt. As my mother is a history and archaeology fanatic, I have grown up with the delusion the Earth beneath our feet is just waiting to reveal its treasure. So what was history’s gift to me, well it seemed to have fur, a disregarded Victorian teddy bear perhaps? Alas no, on closer inspection I see a cat paw, as memories of Pet Cemetary flash before me I throw down my spade and seek sanctuary and sympathy in the arms of the Mr. This month’s personal note is to call the council’s special disposal unit. Gardening is definitely not sexy.

What lies beneath

What lies beneath

February

The vision is growing… I have seen the promised land, its just buried under all of this clay and brick. As I begin to dig, I ponder starting a Gardenise exercise class, surely everyone is over Zumba, and who doesn’t want toned arms? I make a personal note to email Gymbox the next day.

I have seen the promised land.

I have seen the promised land.

 

January

My father was an amazing gardener, from Callaloo to Corn he grew all types of local and tropical treats in our garden in the deepest darkest depths of Peckham, London.   So you could say that gardening is in my blood.. I wouldn’t, just like his cooking skills, it seems this talent may have skipped my generation.

But I do have the passion.

This is the continuing journey of how our back garden will become a secret escape..

BH xx

And so the journey begins.

And so the journey begins.

 

Diaries of a gardening novice

garden

Diaries of a gardening novice

January

My father was an amazing gardener, from Callaloo to Corn he grew all types of local and tropical treats in our garden in the deepest darkest depths of Peckham, London.   So you could say that gardening is in my blood.. I wouldn’t, just like his cooking skills, it seems this talent may have skipped my generation.

But I do have the passion.

This is the continuing journey of how our back garden will become a secret escape..

BH xx

And so the journey begins.

And so the journey begins.

February

The vision is growing… I have seen the promised land, its just buried under all of this clay and brick. As I begin to dig, I ponder starting a Gardenise exercise class, surely everyone is over Zumba, and who doesn’t want toned arms? I make a personal note to email Gymbox the next day.

I have seen the promised land.

I have seen the promised land.

March

Ok…so gardening is not sexy. The previous thoughts of toned arms are long lost in the cold realities of British Winter time and dirty finger nails, but the progress is steady… Until it all turns a bit Stephen Kingish and everything comes to a sudden halt. As my mother is a history and archaeology fanatic, I have grown up with the delusion the Earth beneath our feet is just waiting to reveal its treasure. So what was history’s gift to me, well it seemed to have fur, a disregarded Victorian teddy bear perhaps? Alas no, on closer inspection I see a cat paw, as memories of Pet Cemetary flash before me I throw down my spade and seek sanctuary and sympathy in the arms of the Mr. This month’s personal note is to call the council’s special disposal unit. Gardening is definitely not sexy.

What lies beneath

What lies beneath