So yeah, this year’s been a bit of a whirlwind so far. Although I’ve definitely felt happier and more in control this year, it also been a year of massive changes. So who knows if I’ve actually grown up a bit in the last 24 years or if all the changes just mean I’m having to step back more often to get my head round what on earth is actually going on. Either way, here are some little bits of advice that I’m only now appreciating.

1. Everything you put into your body is either fighting disease – or feeding it.

Yeah ok, this one probably isn’t ground-breaking. However it does put the whole ‘get your 5 a day’ thing in plain black and white, which makes it seem a lot harder to excuse those pasta dishes and glasses of wine.

2. You can only compromise so much, before you compromise yourself.

This one was said by good ol’ mum as I sat in a teary-bleary mess on the sofa at 2 in the morning wondering how on earth my birthday had turned out like this. It’s natural to try to make things work, whether that be a relationship, a friendship or a job. Yet when it boils down to it, you can only try so much before you have to save yourself by walking away.

3. If a boy likes you, it will be easy. All of it.

Ok this one is massive paraphrased from another blog, which I really wish I could find again (though I do know it was by this blogger.) and admittedly I do feel a bit like a teenager writing it for the whole wide web to see, but it’s pretty sound advice. It seems that only know I’m realising this but its better late than never, eh?

4. Everything changes in a day.

Oh golly. If there was a quote for this year, I think this would be it.  For better or worse, you never know how the day is going to turn out… even if it still seems really mundane by 1pm. I guess the point of this advice is two-fold – you should appreciate what you’ve got while it’s there, while knowing the bad times won’t last forever. Things will always change.

5. You Can Only Be Successful, if You’ve Got a Clear Definition of Success.

In my time, I’ve known a few people who have said they would count themselves as successful once they had a ‘good job’ or a ‘good wage.’ I’ve also seen them go on and achieve things and still be frustrated and disheartened. The good job or good wage was no longer good enough once they had it. Unless you can clearly state your measure of success, whether that be happiness, security, how many countries you’ve visited or your wage if that’s your thing; you will never feel like you’ve achieved enough of it.

6. How People Treat You are a Measure of Them, Not You.

Wow. Aren’t I busting out all the clichés in this post? But either way I’m sure we have all been in a situation where someone has either underappreciated your efforts, stole your thunder or just been down right horrid. Only now is it sinking how someone treats you, actually has nothing to do with you. It’s all about them, their outlook and what sort of place they are in mentally.

7. Accept The Things You Can’t Change.

If I was a multimillionaire, I’d like to think my house would have huge grounds and there would be bunches of fresh flowers in every room. I dunno, something about flowers sitting on a windowsill just seem to cheer me up. Then I remember all my millions would be sat going dusty, instead of being enjoyed because I would be hiding in bed feeling sorry for myself in a hay-fever induced mess. No matter how many tablets I’d have, I’d probably not be able to saunter around the grounds with a parasol. Somethings you just cannot alter, so you’ve got to accept it and let it go.

8. Leisure Time shouldn’t be Lazy Time

A while ago, a read an article where the writer was basically cursing what he saw as the biggest misunderstanding of our time; he claimed that as the world divided time into ‘work’ and ‘leisure’ it left a lot of people confused, believing the two were opposites and exclusive . Because ‘work’ was often about showing up and putting in effort to get results, many people allowed themselves to waste their free time by not doing much. I mean don’t get me wrong, some days we all need to slob about in baggy pants and watch crap TV but to truly feel like we’ve made the most of our days off, it’s important to actually actively engage in something, even if it is just for fun.

9. You Are Insignificant.

Taken in the wrong way, this little snippet from John C Parker could seem down-right insulting. But if you take it how it’s meant, it can be quite liberating. The idea is that basically in the whole history of humanity you are a tiny blip. By all means, make your life the best you can. However if you mess up, don’t stress because nobody will remember it anyway (unless you’re a high profile MP destined to be covered in GCSE history classes, obz)

So yeah, there the nine pieces of advice I’m only just appreciating. I’ve gotta go now and do wise peopley stuff, as it seems like the only thing to do after writing this… see ya.

First of all, let me admit, I feel deeply under-qualified to write this review… but something in me says I should try. There is a set structure to ghost stories: normally someone dies; they are either an awful person, or die in awful circumstances. Unable to rest in peace, they come back and wreak havoc. We feel sorry for the family they haunt (usually good looking, rich and with an adorable child.) Eventually the ghost gets beaten away or triumphs, leaving us waiting for the moment it gets bored and moves in to our own house.

That is how I imagined Beloved to be. I started this book in Uni, all those years ago, and only finished it on the third attempt when I revisited it this month. That is not to say it isn’t a good book, or a hard read… I just think you’ve got to be in the right mind set.

The book focuses on Sethe, an African American woman in the years after the Civil War. Although the novel does not give a specific date, it flashes back less than 20 years when Sethe escaped from the slavery at a plantation known as Sweet Home. The horror in this book does not come from the ghost of the dead child known only as Beloved. It comes from the past. Do not get me wrong, Beloved (known by the only word carved on the pink gravestone – paid for in sexual services) does cause harm and upset in the conventional ghostly ways. But that pales almost into insignificance compared to the driving motives of the characters.

Slavery is taught in schools, it is the focus of documentaries and books. We know of the methods, and could probably describe some version of a plantation. However in this book we are made to feel, not the horrors of torture, or forced enslavement but the horror of not being able to own and belong. The driving motive behind the narrative is that of the mother-daughter relationship.

In a society where slaves would often see their children die whilst nursing their owner’s child, and see them sold off like cattle; ‘normal’ relationships were often suspended. The omnipresent character of Baby Suggs, had eight children and didn’t allow herself to care for any of them but the last; the only one she was allowed to keep.

In the present moment of the book, a former slave from the same plantation as Sethe notes “Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you’d have a little love left over for the next one.”

By running Sethe had the chance to keep her children, including her ‘crawling already? Girl’ and she unashamedly settled her love on them. So what’s new about that? Don’t all parents settle on loving their child? They do. However Sethe’s love is a “thick love” (spoiler alert) when white men come to return her and the children to her owner –  under the fugitive slave act, she makes a choice. And so she acts, there and then, to kill her children.

Is there an act that could make you feel the horrors of slavery more than this?

Sethe abandoned her husband, risked her life, the life of her unborn child (she is heavily pregnant whilst fleeing the plantation) to get to the place her children were hiding and give her daughter breast milk. Breast milk, and the ability of a women to feed her child is a key theme for Sethe. Often left hungry by ‘nan’ whilst her biological mother – the ‘woman in the hat’ was forced to work in the fields – Sethe is determined to feed her child. She is determined they will know she loved them, cared for them… that they will know her, rather than just known the mark of slavery branded onto her – which was the only way she knew her mother, a tattoo under the breast. Sethe loved them as fiercely as she could. Yet she would rather kill her children than have them return to slavery.

The idea that you would rather have your child dead than alive, coming from a place of love rather than malice is tragic enough. It is more tragic when you consider that Toni Morrison’s interpretation is based on a true case.

Sethe has risked life for children, been to jail, been shunned and is willing to give it all up time and time again if only she can please her daughter Beloved – the only child she successfully killed. Yet the passed down memory of slavery haunts her children too. Denver (Beloved’s younger, surviving sister) is afraid of the world, and afraid that her mother may kill again. And Beloved herself sways between two opposing motives. With her murder tearing her away from her mother at such a young age, she craves love, attention, sweet treats from childhood. Yet she is also angry; angry at the memory of her mother leaving her in a field to nurse a white women, angry at her for killing her.

The memory of slavery affects all of the characters, not just the children, with none of them daring to form close relationships. Paul D is ashamed of his past treatment, questioning whether he is a man because of his acts… or because a white man once said so. His shame, and years of locking down emotions means he scared of becoming close to others. Can they accept him as both a man and a slave? And can he allow himself to get close, only for a white man to rip them apart? Even though all of the characters are now ‘free’ mentally they aren’t. One passage in the book sums it up perfectly “freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”

Toni Morrison apparently wanted to make the slave experience ‘intimate’ and show how things in everyday life can be at once under control and out of control, when someone else has had power over your life in such a way. At this she is hugely successful.

This is not a book about families, love or communities in a traditional sense. This is a book that lays bare the emotional and psychological consequences of slavery. Consequences that affect families, and in turn communities for generations to come.

It is a book that breathes life into the sketches of figures in text books. The book is equally graphic and moving in parts, and makes you appreciate the little things. Knowing your family and friends won’t be removed from your life on a whim. Living a life in which you can love, because the object of your affection is ‘yours’… ‘your partner’ ‘your child’ ‘your parent’

It is a book that gives a more personal take on the traditional fact-rich texts about slavery. It is a book that should be essential reading.

Going with the principle that it is better late than never, I thought I’d finally write up a lil summin about my recent weekend away. I say recent, it was probably about month ago but with different projects on the go (more on them later) I’ve only just found time for getting back the blogging mojo.

I’m not going to lie, I was excited about this weekend away… right until the night before. Then the nerves kicked in; because going on dates is all well good, but almost 3 complete days with a person is another kettle of fish, right?

Despite being a northerner, I’d never really done the whole Blackpool thing. I’d been to a disappointing firework display (read about that here) and probably been driven through the illuminations a few times without paying much attention to the actual place.

We set off and the Friday, with the sun beating down and managed to get all the way there without getting lost. Easily pleased, me. We stayed at the Sea Crest B&B which was near the front, but fair enough away that you didn’t get all the noise. The only thing I could fault was the décor… a portrait of babies (complete in bumble bee outfits) above the bed seemed a bit weird. On a mucky weekend, who wants the potential consequences staring you in the face?

After leaving the car on a side street, just round the corner from the guesthouse (though I am led to believe there is secure parking just across the road) we set off up to the front. Stopping to play a game of mini golf, one of the first attractions we came across on our way to the front – it is safe to say that all the PE lessons forced upon me at school are yet to take effect. A thirteen hole course took over an hour, and a lot of fishing small balls out of ponds.

In my naive little mind, going up Blackpool tower was just that. You went up the tower, stood on the glass floor then went back down again. But oh how times have changed. There is now (I say now, but to be honest I’m not sure when it began) a 4d tour (you can see the official write up here, if you fancy it). Arriving at the Tower, we were called from the waiting room into an auditorium, and instructed to pick up a pair of 3d glasses en route. The room looked at first glance, like a cinema without chairs, just a selection of metal rows to lean against. The film was a 3d tour of Blackpool taking you back in time, on the wings of a seagull and past various landmarks. The defining aspect of the show had to be the special effects however, as I soon discovered nothing can make me jump more than a blast of cold air up cropped t-shirt.

After the show we ventured up the Tower and on to the famous glass floor. As it was sunny, we also went up two floors further, the clear day meant it was possible to see for miles, the auntie in me noticing all the Balamory type houses. You’ve got to hand it to CBBC there, my niece might nearly be a teenager, but bloody Balamory sticks in the brain.

The rest of the weekend was spent at old-school attractions, arcades and shopping. In an age where most of our entertainment/engagement comes from being online it feels good to get back to some ol’ fashioned fun. With enough 2p machine’s to remind you of a simpler time and a few more grown up games there was a reason for everyone to win a misshaped keyring. The shopping centre includes all the main high-street shops, with little independents selling the sort of tea-towels you feel obliged to get that one older relative.  I feel like I should give a shout out to Bella Italia on Church Street, we went there on chance and I am so glad we did. After dining at the Deansgate branch, I thought I wasn’t a fan of this chain of restaurants. The service was always poor and the food was normally rushed – this little hunk of a place has totally changed my mind though. If it weren’t for the fact I’d have to drink-drive home, I think I’d be there every day enjoying caramelised onion garlic bread and Bellini’s. It’s too late to start worrying about a bikini body now, right guys?

So, I guess this is the question it boils down to: Would I recommend Blackpool as a weekend away?

Surprisingly yes. I say surprisingly because it’s not on my normal list of destinations. I think like most English resorts the weather would play a major part in how much you enjoyed your stay, but you can’t hold the town responsible for that. The mixture of arcades, fun fairs and the Big Wheel (well worth a ride) make you feel as though you could possibly be back in the 1950’s. It makes you wished you’d packed a big midi-skirt for when he kisses you as the Big Wheel stops at the top.

As I sat down to type this, it dawned on me I don’t think I’ve ever done a haul post before. I mean, I might have done, but I’m 98% sure I haven’t. Surely it is some sort of blogging sin that in over a year I’ve yet to do one? I’m not even sure where to begin. Hence the rambling I suppose.

I would have liked to show you what these clothes actually look like on, however a weekend long bout of hay fever does not cute outfit of the day photos make. In fact they don’t make anything, apart from a teary snuffling mess trying to paw sympathy off anyone within a 5 foot radius.

I went to Primark to buy one thing (good intentions and all that.) All I wanted was a pair of flat black shoes for the days when I was doing photography at work (you can read about that here) and for driving around in, because somehow every single pair of shoes I owned had a heel. Apart from some high-shine metallic trainers that didn’t really go with office attire.

1. Plain Black Shoes.

I bought these, mainly because they fit… which for a size 4.5 – 5 is like winning the lottery in Primark. I could almost feel the angels singing hallelujah. I like the fact there suedette and so I think don’t look quite as cheap as a lot of the other black shoes Primarni stocks. I thought the gold hardware and tassels brought them up a notch, but I’ve developed a love-hate relationship with them. Yes we love a good tassel, however we do not love sounding like a donkey on Blackpool beach every time we take a step. They are just so damn jingly.

2. Accessories

I could have easily filled my bag with all the flamingo printed goodies in store, but until this year’s holiday has been decided on I am attempting to restrain myself. My go to style of sunglasses tend to be more cat-eyed, because I feel that aviators just make me looks a bit less sculpted. Can aviators cancel out contouring? Now there is a scary thought. I got these though because all the rose gold reflectiveness drew me in. They make you feel sassier than I don’t know what, and are bloody brilliant at hiding the effects of hay fever.

The neckerchief is apparently a bandana, according to the label. It only cost a measly £1.50 but I think this shade of blue is perfect for spring/summer… it’s not so bright that you cannot wear it with everything, but isn’t too dark either

3. Accidental 2^nd Pair of Shoes.

Oops… I mean they were an accident, but flat shoes are always useful, right guys? These are a strong tan, verging on orange and again a suedette. Despite owning flat shoes a lot more expensive than these in the past, I think they may be the comfiest flats ever. I’ve worn them everywhere, like properly everywhere. I’ve worn them so much I’m tempted to buy another pair just for when these poor overworked things give up the go. I love the T-bar style and when worn with cropped jeans, they make me feel like a proper, actual blogger.

4. Suede Pinafore Dress

I apparently have a fetish for suede this season, who knew? I got this lil babe as a last minute purchase and I am so glad I did. A plain A-line style it has two pockets on the front and a racer back. Primark could have inserted a concealed zip at the side but I think the chunky gold just adds a nice little touch. After all, hardware and utilitarian are a match made in heaven kids.  It also comes in a baby pink but I felt this one would be a smidge more flattering, either way they are so buttery soft it’s untrue.

5. Victoriana Blouse

This lil sweetheart was teamed with a pink pleated midi-skirt in store and looked so romantic I was 80% sure Prince Harry was about to propose to me. He didn’t, but the top consoled me. Tbh, the skirt would have too if I was a few inches taller but hey ho. Although almost every Victoriana top, in every season has lace panels and frills (this one has frills both down the front and around the sleeves, with lace inserts on the shoulders) I love the little tie on this one, it just makes it feel more up to date somehow. It is really long though, like long enough to shock your boyfriend because it goes on forever. I’ve been wearing it tucked into various skirts, but am now playing with the idea of toughing it up with the aforementioned pinafore. We’ll see.

6. Makeup Bag.

At home I usually use Muji make up storage boxes/trays, but knew I needed something a bit more practical for a recent weekend away. I don’t normally go for such bright prints, but hey its summer and it’s got a pom-pom. What more excuses do you need? Although it looks a good size anyway, it turns out this is the cosmetic world’s answer to the Tardis. It holds so, so much. So much you can take all the glittery shimmer eyeshadows you want and wear none of them.