Not Your Nine To Five

A travel and style blog

Some Thoughts on Maternity Wear


Ahh the pain in the ass that is trying to find relatively stylish maternity wear. Or maternity wear that feels remotely like 'you' anyway. I'm tempted to sum up the hours I've spent both on-line and on foot, searching for frocks to shroud my gradually expanding lady lumps, with the words 'what a shower of shite' but that would, of course, be uncouth and not the positive uplifting piece of prose that you might expect, and deserve, on a relaxing Sunday morning. 

It seems that my visions of floating effortlessly from one antenatal checkup to the next, in a series of minimal yet stylish dresses, remain just that, visions. Herein lies the problems I've found trying to buy maternity clothes.

A Night At The Angel Inn, Hetton


Is it just me or has everyone on social media been diving off yachts in the South of France of late? Perhaps it's just my mind cruelly noting selective updates that'll pain me the most given that I haven't wanted to venture too far from home this summer. 

It's not all doom and gloom though.  Gazing longingly from afar has only been a small portion of recent months. In lieu of a 'proper' holiday we opted for a staycation this year instead. You still get the cathartic release of packing a case and fu**ing off but don't have the hassle of fitting your entire wash bag into one small clear plastic bag. Nor do you have to neck double G&Ts at the airport just to keep those claustrophobic thoughts from sneaking in... 
"It doesn't matter that you can't get off the plane, you don't need to get off the plane"... repeat as necessary

Yes, a staycation is a lot less hassle for those prone to an airport tizz. Our staycation took us, in the comfort of a car, across the Lancashire border and into the North Yorkshire Dales for a stay at The Angel Inn at Hetton. 

St.Ives & Saving Up For Art Worth Hanging


This won't be the first time that I've prattled on about my love for St.Ives and it also won't be the last. Having holidayed there with family every year since day dot, bar the years when you don't won't to be seen dead with your parents, St.Ives has become one of my favourite places to be. Once a year my parents, very kindly, rent a house and we all descend for a week of sea views, sandy feet and if I'm being completely honest, baked goods. 

An Official Announcement - I'm Knocked Up


Yes I got knocked up, but not by Robbie the creep. (If you know, you know)

This weeks post is a personal one. While talk does centre around my cervix I promise not to mention trimesters.

Let me get straight into it with a cervical fact - Did you know that the average woman's cervix is 4cm long? Mine, courtesy of last years wretched encounter with cervical cancer, is now only 9mm and what the medical world would term 'incompetent'. Triffic. 

Hello cervical stitch. Also triffic. Remind me to add Cervial cerclage to my National Record of Achievement.

To cut a long story short (no pun intended), that's me skipping cross stitch for the foreseeable.
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