Month: March 2021

We all love to hear endearing declarations, but when those words spew out as easily as squirty cream after every conversation, over and over again, they can become hollow. I even got into this habit at one point and found myself telling the insurance clerk on the phone that I loved him at the end of the call. Habit. See?

When I choose to say I love you or I miss you, it’s because I do. Anyone who hears me utter those words, feel honoured. I’m now a fully fledged cynic, so take that to the bank!

Lockdown has brought out the best and the worst in us. For me, it’s been liberating (ironically) and enlightening. I feel like the shackles that once constrained me, have been removed. I’m at that place in my life where if I don’t want to do or say something, then by golly, I won’t. I won’t make an excuse either. I’m tired of appeasing people and I know that there are many out there who can relate, but remain acquiescent.

I was told “I miss you” a few weeks ago, and as I opened my mouth to reciprocate the sentiment, to avoid offending/upsetting the person, I considered what I’d rather say….which was the truth. My truth was, that I didn’t miss them, simply because they’ve never ever given me reason to miss them. You can’t miss what you’ve never had, right? I told them that I’m happy as a pig in poop. I write, I live by the sea and live a peaceful and uncomplicated life. This has continued to be my mantra. It’s not selfish to do what makes you happy and it’s certainly not selfish to tell the truth.

The pandemic and the last year and a half has opened my eyes to many things, and I realise that life really is too short to kid yourself and others, for the sake of not rocking the boat.

Take care, Eva x

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Listening to kids, particularly over the last ten years, I’ve noted that they are growing too quickly for their own good. As parents we all announce our shock about how time has flown and here stands a child we don’t recognise. We don’t recognise them as children, because although in body they are, in mind, they are mature beyond their years.

I don’t mean that they’re mature in wisdom- this comes with experience and time. I mean the things they know. Kids from the age of eight/nine have heard of sexual activities that I, as a kid of the 80s didn’t know about until I was a teenager. We were too busy giggling and having crushes, sending love notes surreptitiously through friends and stealing kisses by the oak tree or around the corner.

Children have access to so much and as a result, don’t need to ask us any questions about intimacy, looking good or how to apply make-up. That awkward privilege has been taken away from us. ‘NOT MY CHILD, I MONITOR EVERYTHING!!!’ I hear you claim in righteous indignation. Well, suck it up buttercup, because these little humans know more than they’re letting on.

Yes, you can restrict screen time and police their search history, but the fact is, they can get that information from a friend who has access to it.

Sadly, they know way too much, too early. It’s a sign of the time. When I, a near fifty year old woman, who’s pretty un-shockable, is shocked by what kids come out with, it’s a day I never thought I’d see. My compromise? To have fun family time together and dinners at the table where I let the kids be who they are, laugh and argue. (It’s par for the course of growing up). In return, they can talk to me about anything and everything and are grateful for my open mindedness and treating them like young humans and not expecting perfect robots for kids.

Take care, Eva x

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Being a writer, you spend your days, well, writing. Which means you inevitably spend your days (and nights) seated. The thing with me- as I’m sure many can relate to, I get so engrossed in being within the utopian bubble that is my own little world, that I forget to stand/move unless nature calls. In fact, it gets to the point where nature screams at me. That’s how absorbed I get. I need an alert on my watch to remind me to stand and breathe…which I ignore like an insubordinate teen. However, I have had to make myself stop and stretch/exercise because when I rise from my seat or get out of bed, I’m stiff. Think the tin man. (I swear I can hear my bones creaking!)

Aaaaanyway, due to a couple of health complications, I had to stop my beloved Pilates classes. I LOVE Pilates. I LOVE my instructors. Admittedly, they are so meticulous, they can spot a core that’s not engaged, from a mile off. That’s for my own good, and although it’s tough at the time, I’m forever grateful to them.

I completed my first full class (online due to lockdown restrictions and distance). It was a little hard, but completely worth it. My muscle memory has been re-ignited and spurred into a ball of excitement and positivity.

I’ve relocated. Far far away from them. Online classes are great for lockdown, but what happens after?

My question and concern was posed to my instructor. Tim has reassured me that one way or another I can continue my journey of regaining strength and mobility. Asking if I’d tried anywhere locally, I admitted that I had, but honestly? The rapport wasn’t there. Ive been with Nuyoupilates.co.uk for three and a half years and the quality of the classes and the instructors is second to none. I can personally vouch for the amazing things that change and happen to your body.

I’m feeling righteous. I write, I exercise every hour (my mat and equipment is laid out, so there’s no excuse!) and look forward to my clssses. My body? Well, it’s jumping for joy at the goodness I’m giving it. In return, it responds with allowing me the privilege of getting out of bed/rising from my chair without feeling like an old battleship that has been laying on the seabed for centuries. Ok, maybe a slight exaggeration, but you catch my drift (no pun intended!).

So, with this in mind, I thank Pilates, I thank my classes and my body thanks us all.

I’m off for some coffee and a few squares of chocolate.

Take care, Eva x

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Nothing warms my heart more, than kindness. This is kindness and solidarity at its finest. Homelessness is a HUGE problem in the UK, none more so than in London. Thanks to Hazel Jhugroo, founder of The People’s Army @peoplesarmyldn , a small but mighty group of volunteers, who make things happen. Providing thousands of meals, cooked in a single oven at a church hall kitchen, they ensure that the homeless and families who are faced with visiting food banks as a result of the pandemic, eat. Creating a variety of dishes with limited food supplies and with smiles as big as their hearts, Hazel and her army are a perfect example of benevolence and selflessness.

It saddens me that in this day and age, there is so much poverty and hardship, particularly in a first world country. We as humans have the capacity to reach out and help others in dire circumstances. Every one of these people and families have a story behind their plight. Obviously, I don’t expect you all to drop everything and head to their kitchen (although they can always do with extra help), but a small (or generous) donation for food aid would be very much appreciated. https://www.gofundme.com/f/peoplesarmyfoodaid

Take care, Eva x

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