A look inside: Our New Flat, Seven Floors Up #livingroomtour

I am the worst blogger in history. Can I even call myself a blogger? I don’t think I can. I honestly wish I could channel my dream bloggers who provide amazing content, daily, but obvs that just ain’t me, So firstly I apologise…

Secondly, HELLO DEAR FRIENDS. I would like to apologise for the lack of content, one because of the main reason above, but two, because this little bean has been busy busy busy. Aside from my 9-5 job, I’ve recently up-hauled my cosy little life in Surrey, with green grass, rivers, ducks and swans that hiss and angrily square up at me – the fact I pay bare minimum rent and have food cooked for me and have unlimited access to internet and dog pets…. to moving into a two bedroom flat IN LONDON – zone 3 but LONDON and, to top the icing on the cake, I had my first ever trip to Ikea on the Friday just gone, to buy cute Pinterest worthy furniture and cute little house plants that make for perfect Instagram snaps.

If that isn’t living the dream, I don’t know what is.

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We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there. This is home.

There will be many places in this life, that you will come to call Home.

Everybody has a different definition of the word. I myself, truly believe that home is not a house, or the mere place, where you live or you grow. It is very much a feeling – a feeling that can create the euphoric sense of comfort that you only get when you are really home.

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Merry Christmas 🎄

A big merry Christmas to all of my fellow followers and many of my readers out there.

I hope you all have a wonderful day and remember to celebrate and have fun. Enjoy the time spent with your loved ones because that is what the true meaning of Christmas is all about 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

But during the happy times, please do say a silent prayer for those who don’t have their families with them, or for those who’ve lost someone close to them, and for those souls we are missing each and every day.

My prayers go out to the world today.

Celebrate, remember and love.

Merry Christmas ❤️

What’s Up Wednesday?


Hello fellow bloggers and dear readers.

It has been a while again, I know. Being a postgraduate student has me extremely busy. If my time isn’t spend in Uni, it’s at home working on Uni things, or at work earning money so that I can feed myself. It is safe to say my life is all about the eat, sleep, work, repeat at the moment.

Moving on from this, taking a little momentary break of University related things, it’ s dawned on me.

Today is the 16th December.



I have no idea how we’re in December. Christmas is in 9 days and I’ve lost my festive feelings. Some of you, if you are a follower, will remember I was feeling festive back at the start of November – which of course, is not like me.

Hey presto, that vanished almost as soon as it appeared.

Ah. Relief. Back to the scrooge I know and love.

Alas, all of these things aside, on Sunday, I am heading home. Back to my beloved little town. The above image is a picture taken outside of my bedroom window back home, and it is one I absolutely adore.

8am on a spring morning in late January; the sun rising and the sky looking beautiful and the best part? I was waking up in my double bed.

Not this small double bed business! A real, big, double bed spread where I can move around freely, sleep in the middle of the bed and have as many pillows as I damn well please.


Living away from home has made me realise a number of things, but the most important one will always remain: a house isn’t a home without the people who make it that.

In this instance, my current humble abode is shared with my boyfriend Conner. I am still madly in love with him after 5 months of living together, and we haven’t killed each other yet, so fingers crossed this is for the long haul (no doubt on my part, it was the minute we got together, but for the sake of us actually surviving this living together, let’s leave it here.) In January we will be celebrating our four year anniversary, and come September, we will hopefully have moved out of our little flat in Plymouth, and we’ll be moving on up in the world to a smaller, smellier, rut of a flat in London, or something of that effect.

But not to get ahead of ourselves, of course, it will always come back to this. My first, and forever, home back in Gloucestershire, where of course, my dear Mumsey and my beloved little feline fur babies are.

This Sunday, I will be heading back there, and I honestly cannot wait.

I don’t know where this first semester has gone, and it is scary to think I’m a third of the way through my Masters already – eek. Come September next year, I’ll be 24 and I’ll have a MA degree and I’ll hopefully be living and working in or around London. God forbid. That’s too fucking scary to think about right now.

So yeah, home will literally be the escape I need – to re-evaluate my life, contextualise my work load, think about all the things I love and hate about Plymouth, but more importantly, it’ll be time well spent with my Mum and my favourite beings.

It’s strange because although this University semester (and this year if I think about it) has gone incredibly fast, going home has seemed like a long time coming. I think I’m still reeling in these big life changes.

One minute I had just finished my BA degree, handed in my dissertation and had a full time, minimum wage job, and then suddenly the heavens opened and I was thrown into my Masters, I had no job, and had to learn everything from scratch.

Slow down life, please. I need a break.

I need a cat snuggle, and I need a nice long face to face girl chat with my bestest friend in the whole world.

Sunday really can’t come soon enough.

I’m not wishing for Christmas, I’m not wishing for the New Year.

I’m just wishing for Sunday.


What’s up Wednesday…?

Evening fellow bloggers,

So, since being home from what felt like an incredibly long day, I have tried to sit down and write a prompt to a story starter as hosted by A Daily Rhythm, to give you all something interesting to read. However, my creative spark is nowhere to be found and because of the talk I attended where Peter James stated that writer’s block is not actually a thing, I can’t blame the lack of creative mojo on that. In fact, I just have no emotional spark to start writing again. I think it will come back with time, and the more I get back into reading, the more I’ll get back into writing – or so I believe.

Reading and writing often go hand in hand, so the more I read, hopefully the more I’ll be encouraged and inspired to write. I think the more inclined I am to post on this blog, the more it will encourage me to want to write for myself again too. At the moment, I want to stay true to this blog and I want to create a healthy relationship with myself and writing, and I am encouraged by my fellow followers, to post something every day, because well, they follow me and I feel like I’m letting them down if I miss a day.

What’s up Wednesday…? is the title I think I will use for every Wednesday post, but it won’t necessarily follow the same pattern. Last Wednesday I was late in posting so I posted some beautiful pictures of the changing season here in Plymouth. Today’s post follows on from that a little, but with more of an emotional tone.

As autumn nights are creeping in, the air is growing colder and nights are getting darker; this time of year is perfect for wrapping up warm, taking evening strolls, or staying in and cuddling up with a warm cup of tea and a good old book or Netflix series. This particular time of year seems to make me extremely homesick. I’m feeling it more and more as December is slowly approaching.

Now I have always been a home girl. My first year of University was a big challenge. Although, I felt by the end of my third year, I had mastered being away from little old Tetbury, it’s just not the case. Plymouth has slowly become my second home, there is no doubt about that, but it’s not the same as the welcoming warmth of my childhood home. My mother is the main reason for missing home, but so is my furry four legged best friend.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore living in Plymouth, I adore living with Conner – I think we’re adapted quite nicely to living together, but there are nights I wake up in our bed, and for a split second, it feels so foreign. As the end of October closes in, I find now is the perfect time for me to go home, but this year; I can’t. I don’t know when the next time will be, when I make that journey. In a way that worries me, because from a young age, I’ve had this strong anxiety of never being able to get back there; I used to be terrified of public transport, I used to be so anal about my timing, and planning my routes so I always knew how and when I’d be going home, and in fact, for a long long time I never left my home town.

Clearly I’ve grown out of that now – but when I’m so used to planning my route home near this time of year, it feels so strange to know that I don’t actually know the next time I’ll be going home. Until then, I have phone calls, and skype and endless pictures of my furry four legged friend to keep me company, but it’s not the same.  I think the main reason for this feeling to be magnified tonight stems from having a bad day – and sometimes, all you need is a cuddle from your parent, or in my case, a cuddle from my little fluffball.

Instead, because I can’t have that, tonight I am settling with a ranty blog post alongside a steaming mug of hot chocolate, my snuggly pug pjs and a Disney film – a near perfect way to sulk. But not to worry, to add some brighten to this post, here is one of my favourite pictures of me and my fluffy 🙂

IMG_2911Wrap up warm my lovely readers, tomorrow’s post will be a little more uplifting.

Lots of love ❤️