Isn’t it strange how something that we once loved with practically every fibre of our being can become something that we loath with an equal amount of passion?

I hate my bed!

Our bed

When Mr F and I bought our first bed together, it was a momentous occasion! For years we had been sleeping on a bed frame that we had been given by my big sister who had, in turn, acquired it from our bigger sister. To compliment the ‘well loved’ bed frame, my biggest (and only) brother gave us his old orthopaedic mattress. All of this, at the time, had been a major step up from the airbed we had been sleeping on! So, when we finally had the money to buy a new bed frame, we were over the moon.

We purchased an up to date, wooden frame that fitted perfectly into our bedroom at the time (I think from Homebase, but I can’t remember now). We didn’t have spare cash at the time to upgrade our mattress but the fact that the bed frame did not have a bucket full of wood glue holding it together was thrilling!

Sometime later, following the birth of our eldest child and in anticipation of our youngest child, we moved to a larger house. Our bedroom felt huge, previously everything had fitted rather snugly, but this excitement was short lived. Our fabulous, new bed frame didn’t really work in it’s new location. It had been perfect in the old house but now it just…wasn’t! In an effort to improve on the situation, we splashed out and bought a fabulous new, extra deep, Slumberland mattress. It felt like floating on a cloud!

For a while, this extra comfort distracted us from the fact that our bed just didn’t work in our new bedroom. Sadly, this distraction has come to an end for me. I am sure my feelings towards my bed has some bearing on my frequent bouts of insomnia. Add to that the fact that we haven’t decorated our room since we moved in – our daughter’s room took priority, then a new kitchen, then a new bathroom, then our new baby boy’s room, then the sitting room and, most recently, the hall, stairs and landing – I was getting rather down about our boudoir.

However, things are on the up! After attending a lampshade making course run by the lovely Lynne Sharpe at Beautiful Things HQ, I created this wondrous shade to go in our bedroom.


I bought the fabric to make the shade from Hobbycraft and was super pleased to learn later that it is from the Love collection by Amy Butler! I loved the fabric so much, that I went back and bought some more…just because! Luckily, the ‘just because’ came in handy as I decided to make (with a little support from my crafting guru, Claire Mackaness from BTHQ) some bedside table lamps to match!

bedside table lamps

So, where does this leave us? Searching, that’s where! Searching for the perfect bed to lift my spirits and to transform our ‘room’ into a sanctuary of peace and slumber!

Well, I have searched and searched and have now fallen madly in love with this truly fabulous bed from the Storage Bed!

The Storage Bed custom design


As you can see, this website allows you to design your own bed to suit all your needs. The photo above is the bed I have designed and includes the End Opening Mechanism. I have sent off for some free fabric samples and, once they arrive, I shall begin my campaign to convert Mr F to my way of thinking!

I hope it won’t be too long before my feelings towards my bed are completely reversed – wish me luck!



Yesterday, despite the grotty weather, started off on a high for me – I could eat again! I had just completed my first three day cleanse with Squeeze, which you will be able to read more about soon, and I felt fab! Instead of sitting on the edge of my bed feeling like an ancient, creaky, achy woman, I felt renewed, refreshed and relaxed.
I started the day with a hot water and lemon and a bowl of sliced banana with blueberries in one of my lovely, new Jamie at Home Rimple bowls. I just love the way it sits in my hand – not too heavy, not too big and the little ripples ensure the perfect grip. I know…it’s a bowl! However, it makes me happy.

Breakfast Love

After dropping the children off at school, I skipped off to town to do a few errands and while wandering around the Co-op in a blissful state, I heard the assistant request the owner of the car with my licence plate number to go to the help desk. On the negative side, a mature lady and her companion had shown that there are lots of horrible people in the world. On the positive side, two young girls had shown that there are still good people in the world.

So, what had happened? The two girls had heard a loud bang as they were getting into their car and turned to see that a car had reversed into my little purple car. The passenger, the afore mentioned mature lady, got out and inspected the damage and then promptly got back into the car and drove off! My poor Johnny Cab!

It might not look like much, but there are two cracks in the bumper which means a new bumper is required.

It might not look like much, but there are two cracks in the bumper which means a new bumper is required.

Needless to say, my lovely day went down hill rather fast. To add to it all, I only had twenty four hours to physically go into a police station to report the incident and to make an official statement. So, thanks to the Wickford Police Station being no more, I headed off to Billericay – in a hail storm – to be greeted by an initially very frosty lady on the desk who managed to make me feel like a criminal despite being the victim.

For your information, when reporting a similar crime, you will need to take both parts of your driving licence, your MOT certificate and your insurance documents. It really helps if you know this before travelling to the next town but worry not, if you don’t know or forget then the frosty lady will smile while she gives you a ticket requiring you to present said documents within seven days!

While the frosty lady was filling in the form, I looked out the window and my spirits lifted a little as I spied Cook! I promised myself that if I got out of the police station in time, I would pop in. I love Cook – such a brilliant concept.

So, it was with a renewed bounce that I left Billericay Police Station with a ticket in my pocket and my taste buds tingling with anticipation of the delights I was sure to find in store. I was met by a lovely lady (hooray, faith in humanity restored again) who welcomed me to the store, checked if I needed any help, told me about their Valentine’s offer and offered me a taster that sounded yummy but unfortunately had prawns in, so I couldn’t partake (fear not fellow veggies, they have a great range of vegetarian meals).

Fifteen minutes later I left with a bag full of yummy, yet slightly restrained delights for Mr F and I to enjoy for Valentine’s Dinner (my Squeeze cleanse was still at the front of my mind!) along with a some tasty treats for my lunches next week.

Cook bag stuffed full Cook Valentines Dinner Cook lunches

To add to my joy, the sun came out!

Sunshine at last

I nipped home to put my Cook goodies in the freezer and then rushed to my daughter’s school to fulfil my PTA duties and help supervise film night. I had good company during the film, Despicable Me 2, and it was really lovely at the end when lots of the littlies got up and boogied to Happy. I know it is a bit of a love it or hate it song, but I am definitely in the love camp! So, for your enjoyment, here it is

My day was nearly over but I had one last thing to do – a mission in the name of LOVE! Many of you have read about Mr F, my other half, but what you may not know is that I have a Craft-wife-to-be as well! As a symbol of my love and dedication to her and the craft, I tiptoed out in the cold and the dark to put up the latest mini yarn bomb in our street!

Birch Green Valentine Yarn Bomb 1

It doesn’t look that fab in the dark, so will try and get some photos of it in the sunshine. However, as an added treat for my love, I have added a bit of magic!

Birch Green Valentine Yarn Bomb 2

My day was finally over!


My wonderful Craft-wife-to-be has not only taken a photo in day light of my gift to her but she has returned the favour and added her own to it – isn’t it beautiful?!



I love buttons.  I always have. I can’t quite pin down what it is about them that I love – how pretty they can be, how they feel, how they sound – but whatever it is that draws me to them, I love them!

Now buttons, generally, are not like Marmite (other yeast spreads are available) as in it it’s not a case of you love them or hate them, there is a more even spread of feelings about buttons.  However, there are extremes. 

My lovely friend Liz had a phobia of buttons, specifically on clothing, called koumpounophobia.  I had never noticed that she never wore buttons until one evening, when I was sharing a house with her, she asked if I could cut the buttons off a new top for her.  She had, she told me, always been afraid of buttons but, as an adult, had managed to manage her fear enough to be able to cut them off and let them drop into a box that she kept under her bed.  I found it really interesting that she would keep the thing she feared so close by but I guess, she thought it best to know where they were!

At the other end of the scale are those, a bit like me but more so, who LOVE buttons!  I’ve not been able to find a scientific word for the love of buttons but I have found a few blogs and websites belonging to fellow button lovers!  Like the lady from Button Obsession who’s love for buttons resulted in starting her own online button shop  and Glenyce, from the blog Midcraftcrisis, who asked for buttons for her birthday and, amongst lots of other lovely buttons, received the ‘Family Button Box’ from her Auntie Jill.

  Glenyce’s Family Box of Buttons brings me back to what inspired me to write about buttons today.  We are visiting my brother in law and, while looking for a needle and thread, my OH found his late Mother’s box of buttons. Who’d have thought that this little, battered old biscuit tin could trigger such an outpouring of love, affection and memories! Just the way he held the tin, gently and lovingly in his hands showed how precious the memories are that are held within it. 

Some buttons had no meaning or memory for him at all and made us wonder who had worn them.  Others instantly brought back a happy memory of a favourite childhood item. And others had ‘always been there’ and, despite having no special person or event attached to the memory, provided a sense of continuity, safety and home.

I am very jealous of my big sister, Susan, who inherited our Family Box of Buttons from my maternal Grandmother.  Not only is it an amazing box of buttons, it is also a really lovely old, wooden box!  I can picture it clearly now, feeling the weight of it and gently opening the lid to reveal probably a hundred years of buttons and memories – a real treasure chest!

Two particular buttons I can picture in my Nanny’s button collection are a shiny brass button and a white, twinkly plastic button – both of similar sentimental importance to me.  I always imagined the brass button had come from the army uniform of my Nanny’s husband – he sadly died in the Second World War when my Nanny was six months pregnant with my Mum.  I used to hold the button and wonder what it would have been like to have a Granddad and how brave he must have been.  The white, twinkly plastic button was a spare from this fabulous cardigan my Nanny knitted me which had a mix of buttons on it (possibly from the button box!) which seemed very grown up to me!  There were two of the white, twinkly ones which looked like opals, a clear twinkly crystal like one and two red twinkly ones which looked like rubies! 

I loved the cardigan which was knitted from some fantastic white wool with rainbow flecks running through it!  That little plastic button reminds me of all the other lovely buttons on the cardigan, the cardigan itself, my lovely Nanny who knitted it for me, the excitement of opening it on my birthday and feeling like a grown up princess and being even more excited to find another little parcel which contained a knitted bikini in the same wool for my Cindy – all that from one button!

As I won’t have the honour of custody of the Family Box of Buttons, I have started my own. I didn’t do this consciously, just initially keeping the odd spare button in a drawer from new outfits of my own and then, once I had my own children, all the spare buttons from their outfits. 

I have since transferred the buttons to a little, flower covered tin that my Mum gave me a few Christmas’ ago which had been filled with toffees (I think). It still looks quite shiny and new but I am looking forward to bringing it out when I am a grandmother myself and showing my grandchildren all the lovely buttons I will have collected, telling them about all the wonderful people whose buttons they were and helping to create lovely memories for them to share with their children.