New Year Skin Rescue

I am beyond thrilled that the new year is here and 2014 is no longer with us.  I am determined that this coming year is going to be a LOT better than the last.  Our new small Cub is about to arrive for starters - any second in fact- so we're off to a good start so far...

I'm meant to be taking down Christmas decorations and re-packing my hospital bag, for the third time but I quickly wanted to share one of my best Christmas finds before I go MIA for a few weeks.

I bought this for my Mum for Christmas but it turns out that she already had it. So being too fat (lazy) to take it back, I thought I'd save myself the hell of the festive post office queues and treat myself to it too.  India Knight wrote about it a few months ago and made it sound semi-miraculous.  It is aimed at more mature skin but I thought with the sleep deprivation that's coming way, I'll be looking like I belong to that camp in no time at all.

It's called 'In Transit, Camera Close Up', made by This Works.  A mask, moisturiser and primer in one, it really is quite sensational.  Old bat or not.  I like how instantly it works; you put it on straight onto clean skin and it immediately looks like you've been air brushed.  I should probably admit that I currently don't have any light bulbs in my bathroom but even Chaz has commented on how 'much better I look'.  I'm taking that as a compliment. 

So if you're looking for a New Year miracle helper, this is my suggestion.  And on that note, i'm signing off for a few weeks. I will be back again when my brain is working again.  

Wish me luck!

x

Skincare Miracle

Someone up there absolutely does not want me to sleep at the moment.  If it's not the smallest Cub or DC (Devil Child) as he's now known, screaming at me five times a night, it's Alice the small dog  being sick or barking at imaginary intruders at the end of my bed.  Yesterday, it was a wasp.  In my bed, under the duvet, stinging me.  At 5am.  In the winter.  A wasp.  What have I have done to deserve this continuous torture I'm not sure.  But to whom I've upset, I am truly sorry and repent of all my sins.  

So, naturally it goes without saying that I'm looking pretty ropey.  Very pregnant - or just very fat if you ask the Cubs  - and very sleep deprived.   And it's October.  No one looks good in October.  Too much drizzle and too many hot to cold temperature changes.  The perfect recipe for skincare disaster if there ever was one. 

But, there is always a silver lining and this time it comes in the form of a small brown tube.  Inside this tube is a miraculous 10-in-1 beauty balm. (Talk about multi-tasking). It's a super-charged BB cream that in one fell swoop illuminates, protects, anti-ages, smoothes and basically, just makes you a lot prettier.  As well as the immediate effect though it has also seemingly improved the general state of my skin after only about a week of using it.  Definitely my new hero product. I'm already doing that slightly crazed thing of worrying about what  I'll do in the case of it being discontinued...

Poppy Fields

Two separate friends called me up the other day to tell me about these 'incredible fields full of poppies' that I had to go and see. We're not talking about the wafer thin red ones that line the roadsides but full on, real, spiky stemmed, buy-in-a-flower-shop type, lilac ones.  Driving the cubs to school yesterday morning I nearly drove into a tree when I looked up to see it was snowing in the fields to my left.  And then I remembered the Poppy story.  

So with no Cubs in tow, left to my own Cluedo-esq devices I went to track them down.  It didn't take a lot of detective work and two minutes later I'd found a gap in the fence and was waist deep in more poppies than I've ever seen in my life.  

It sadly turns out that it's actually a massive crop of morphine poppies - Papaver Somniferum - and not a ginormous pick your own poppy field.  Morphine's usually imported from Turkey, Tasmania and Spain but as a way of cutting costs and dealing with our growing demand for it, pharmaceutical companies are now paying UK farmers to grow it for them here. 

Now I know that they're owned by big old pharmaceutical companies the idea of slipping in with my secateurs makes me feel slightly uneasy.  I'm thinking moonlight stroll/ balaclava / camo gear might be the only way of getting my hands on a nice big bunch.

Anthropologie Launch

I've been Anthropologie's number one fan for as long as I can remember.  I stumbled upon them years ago in New York before they'd arrived on our shores and have been obsessed with them ever since.  When they announced a few weeks ago that they were going to take me under their wing and help me to launch my new book, Inspire, I honestly thought I was going to pass out with excitement.  My dreams have actually, quite literally come true.  

So, in a couple of weeks - two weeks before any other shop is stocking it - they are launching Inspire in their Kings Road shop.  I'm doing a workshop, a signing and then it's the launch party later that night.  And a week later we're doing the same again in their new Guilford shop. And to add to the excitement, the heavenly Daylesford are providing all the food.  

So apologies if I'm a little MIA in the next few weeks; Every waking Cub-free hour is going to be spent finalising my workshop creations and deciding on the final touches for the store decorations...  

Miracle Dust

It seems that no one really likes their own hair.  Even people who I think have really good hair seem to be desperate for someone else's.   I for one am constantly battling with mine.  It's definitely going through some sort of mid life crisis as I write and I am completely baffled as to what it is that it needs.  Lots fell out six months after each of the Cubs's arrivals and I was just about back on track again when hey presto, we're back in meltdown city again.  I've tried everything.  Mousses, sprays, serums, dry shampoo and nothing really works. It's permanently flat, limp, dull and frizzy.

It hasn't answered all my prayers but I have recently found a small pot of treasure to fill in the gaps - quite literally- while I continue to hunt for the holy grail of the hair kingdom. 

It's called Expanda Dust made by Unite and its purpose is to 'add volume and texture with just one puff'.  The bottle is so light it feels empty - and all you have to do is sprinkle a few bits of this magical iridescent powder where you want it - i.e. the flat, limp bits, leave for a few seconds, juge it up and as if my magic you instantly have full on Hollywood volume.  I've got to go to a hen party as Pamela Anderson in a few weeks and I now have absolutely no need for the wig part at all.  All I need to concentrate on now is slipping into that lovely red swimming costume...

www.urbanretreat.co.uk/beautique/product/unite/expanda_dust.aspx

Liberty and Barbour

I'm never quite sure how I feel about a Barbour.  Instinctively, I'm not a fan.  I've always felt like a bit of a country frump when I put one on.  Saying that my Mum has a slightly fitted one which is lined with a Liberty rose print and I'm recently, secretly quite taken with it. Staying with my parents in Wales I always head straight for the most hideous, ill fitting coat to go for a walk, shunning anything remotely fitted or presentable.  The older and muddier the better.  A fifteen year old, men's XXXL tartan cashmere shirt that comes to my knees is the absolute top choice. My brothers and I fight over it.  However, I recently got sent some photos of the Cubs and I and call me vain, but me and my monster coat completely mar the pictures.  

The combination of that and the new Liberty/ Barbour collaboration has made me re-think my outdoor wardrobe.  The bigger Cub is already so wardrobe conscious I'm surprised he even let me out of the house dressed as I was.

If they're good enough for Alexa...

www.liberty.co.uk

Back in the Kitchen

It wasn't that I went off food; I just really couldn't be bothered to cook anything.  The Cub's were up 24/7; my book was requiring full attention and the house felt like it was in the running to be the set of the new Arachnophobia sequel. The thought of cooking once I'd reached the heavenly 7pm milestone made me want to run, screaming for the hills.  So I stopped.  We fell into a weekly pattern that involved minimal thought or effort.  Monday was an M&S chicken kiev.  Wednesday - fish and chips from the van in the village and Friday,  Pizza from Ricco's pizza shack- also handily parked behind our house for the night.  So that only left tuesdays and thursdays to come up with something.  It would usually involve a baked potato or if I was feeling energetic, a chicken.  I tried to make it healthy though to counteract the three other health by-pass days.

 

This week however, I turned a corner.  I suddenly felt the need to cook.  Something wholesome and warming.  And something that I hadn't done before. Chaz has had a sudden obsession with casseroles in the last few weeks.  I personally, am not a huge fan. In fact, even the word 'casserole' makes me shudder.  Before I knew it a tray of chicken thighs had jumped into my basket and my lovely friend Mel had sent me home with a Hugh Fearnley- Whittingstall recipe for a Chicken and mushroom cider casserole.

Long story short; it was a sensation.  Chaz awarded it with a 'best thing I've ever eaten' medal. High praise.  And even again the next morning when the wine had worn off.  Needless to say I felt rather proud of myself and am properly excited about what I'm going to cook next.  Although I am quite tempted to do Hugh's  cider creation again.  I like getting medals.

The Kitchen Sink...

I never really understood what all the fuss was about when people with children used to complain about the difficulties of packing to go on holiday.  Why should it be any more difficult than normal, pre-baby packing... you just need a few more babygrows, no?

We are going to France this week and I cannot believe how deciding what to take, has turned into a full scale military operation.  It's meant to be a holiday.  I've been mentally making lists for the past couple of weeks and now I actually have to get on with it.    There's just so much stuff...

Clothes. Just-in-case-medicines. Baby food -yes I know there are supermarkets in France but what if the Smallest Prince decides French food is not for him?  sterilisers, suncream in mousse, cream and spray forms, in every possible factor.

   Do I really need four sun hats for each Cub?  Twenty pairs of tiny shorts? Will I wear all five pairs of shoes even though we'll be on the beach 90% of the time? Probably not.  

But I like to be prepared for all eventualities.  

I learnt my lesson when we went to Tresco in the Scilly Isles in July.  It rains a lot there.  So, naturally,  I took enough waterproofs to keep the whole island dry.  It was sunny and hot every single day.  And all I'd packed was cashmere and jeans.  And my favourite Paul Smith semi-lightweight trousers. Which I wore for seven days straight and are consequently now ruined from too much sand, seaweed and general over exposure.  

This time I'm not going to be caught out.  The car might buckle under the extreme weight en route to the airport or failing that we will end up paying more for excess baggage than the whole holiday has cost us but as least I'll be prepared come rain or shine.  Or if there's a passing tornado, flood or snow storm.