Coffee Trifle: The perfect dessert for espresso lovers


I’ve always been a bit of a coffeeholic.

Even as a child, I made a beeline for the coffee creams in a box of chocolates, or the coffee cake at family parties.

But I was brought up in an old-fashioned northern household where the adults drank tea. So coffee was an occasional treat.

It was when I was pregnant with Brodie that my tastebuds changed, and even the smell of tea turned my stomach.

But my craving for coffee was heightened.

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Hair Trends 2014


The new BBC3 programme Hair has certainly whetted my appetite for new styles, although perhaps not all of us will be feeling confident enough to wear the outlandish looks featured on the show.

But a glance through a few magazines, and there are plenty of ‘dos’ which your average woman could carry off with flair and finesse.

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What you are missing when you knock the no makeup selfies


I’ve read a few blog posts lately, shared on social media, which are knocking the no makeup selfies.

They accuse women of belittling the bravery of cancer patients, they claim they are self-publicising and doing absolutely nothing to raise awareness, they question what they’ve done for the cause, when we’re all aware of the disease anyway.

I’ve even read about a cancer patient who’s offended by the whole movement.

Here’s why they’re missing the point:

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Getting the country gent look with Joules


If you’re going for strolls in a cold, damp climate, you really need to dress the part. And Brodie fancies himself as a bit of a country gent.

We bought him some green Hunter-style wellies over Christmas, and he’s been wearing a wide-brimmed hat he got in a dressing up set – as he finds it shelters him from the rain better than any hooded coat can.

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Calling Mum

mother and daughter on the phone


How often do you call your mum?

The average woman will spend the equivalent of two months of her life chatting on the telephone to her mother, according to research.

The study by Sainsburys Mobile found that women make an average of three calls a week to their mum, with each conversation lasting just over 16 minutes.

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Eschewing The Fat: Little Things Mean A Lot


I started my Slimpod journey this week.

And I’m feeling more positive.

Is that the Slimpod, or me? Hard to tell. But I’ll happily accept either.

I’m listening to the honeyed tones of Trevor Silvester every night, as he tells my subconscious all sorts of messages about visualising how I want to look, treating food simply as fuel to burn, listening to my body and stopping when I’m full….

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Team Honk Relay: Scotland The Brave


Well, it’s done – and what an exciting few days it’s been.

After much fretting that Scotland might not raise the required £500, the Team Honk Relay has ended with more than £1780 on our fundraising page.

To contribute to a total of over £26,000 from the 10-week challenge, passing a baton from Lands End to John O’Groats.

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Waiting for the Team Honk Relay


We were up at 7.30am – early for a Saturday.

And after loading a packed lunch into the car, it was off to Perthshire and the shores of the River Tay.

Mum was taking part in a whitewater rafting challenge for the Team Honk Relay.

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Eschewing The Fat: Thinking Slimmer


So I told you last week that I’m trying to find a way to get back on the path to weight loss.

I’ve been lacking direction. Sure that I want to shed the lbs. But also certain that I DON’T want to start any fad diets or self-starvation regimes.

I need help getting started.

And it was while I was wondering what to do that an option presented itself to me.

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Eschewing The Fat: In the weight loss wilderness



Since I last updated you on my progress, I’ve been feeling a little lost.

I know what I don’t want to do. What’s the wrong way to go.

The slimming club didn’t work for me. And believe me, I’ve tried them all.

As well as weight loss milkshakes, meals delivered to your door, cutting out carbs….

I’m not saying these methods don’t work for anyone.

But I think, for me, pinning all my hopes on someone else solving my problem is why I keep failing.

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