Angelsbeauty's Blog

…. what's next on my random mind?….

Is it possible to get over death?

I haven’t lost anyone but watching that episode on Grey’s where someone died (no spoilers) really provoked something in me.

I have always known that death is unexpected. Even when someone is terminally ill, you can’t really predict when they will take their last breath. So can you really prepare for death?

I am not trying to be morbid but I don’t even know what I will do to myself if I lost anyone remotely close to me. I try to tell myself I will be strong, I will be fine and get over it but the truth is, the thought of it makes me feel like I am drowning and gasping for air. Then I seek solace in my faith and the fact that there is life after death but the truth is, the peace I get from that doesn’t last very long and the next time I think about it again… It’s like a cycle. 

Another part of me tries to see it from another point of view. I tell myself I’m being selfish and I have no right to be upset. After all, the person is in a better place and doesn’t have to worry about the stress of this world, especially the no light no fuel saga of Nigeria. But still, I can’t imagine life without a lot of people, they add so much colour to my life. I can’t but realise I am getting older which means those older than me are getting even older. Inevitably as we are having a wedding and babies boom, unfortunately or fortunately.. the older generation in their own time will go one after the other.

I can only pray for long life for everyone, but long life is all relative. An 60 year’s equivalent of long life may seem so little compared to a 28 year old’s who enjoys having that person in their life and has a longer life ahead of the 60 year old.

Enough of the doom and gloom. Enjoy life, appreciate those around you who add colour to your life. Seize the moment and don’t let anything or anyone weight you down! Let every moment count! For those who have lost someone, I pray you are able to find away to accept the situation and move own whole cherishing the memory of your loved one.

From a deep place in my heart.

Loads of love


Unlocking my mind!

The title of this blog is my current state of my mind in a summary.

Hello and good evening! I trust we are all well. I’m fine, happy, busy, tired, lacking a good night’s rest and I currently have a restless mind with loads of ideas.

So why is my mind restless?

I have realised in the last couple of years that a creative side in me is awakening and refusing to quench itself. I always had the desire to write when I was a lot younger. I used to write stories, poems and wished I was better. Then I started this blog when I decided to do a lot more writing, but I have never really spent time to hone the skill as I am not naturally gifted in that area. So I put writing on the back seat and rekindled my knitting. I can knit and crochet and read patterns etc, but it takes too long to do it as a business, I doubt anyone would pay for a scarf I make if I charge them for my time as well and it’s too expensive to do it as a constant hobby! For now, it is reserved as a gift to friends with new born babies and people who pay in advance (or at least a deposit) for a special order.

Next is sewing. After watching The Great British Sewing Bee, and getting tired of paying too much for sewing my aso ebi in London, I got my husband to buy me a sewing machine for Christmas. I have been to one sewing class which was fun. I made a pillow case lol and then I went on to sew two bow ties for my son’s first birthday. That’s about it. I, of course want to make more things but like knitting, sewing is also another expensive hobby and I need more classes, I think. Like my husband says, I have expensive hobbies.

My last creative attempt is to make things for interior design. My first attempt at this was to make a frame with the name of my friend’s daughter’s room written with a colourful mixed buttons. It came out okay but definitely not perfect. But I was excited nonetheless. Sigh!

Now, my mind is brewing a business idea I have discussed with a few people who think it is great, but I don’t want this to be like any of my pet projects. The execution has to be on point. *sigh*. So I have held off on getting the ball rolling for the fear I will only do a half baked job again!

So, these are some of the reasons why my mind is restless. So many things I want to do but I don’t think I’m doing them well enough or dedicating enough time to them. I admire people who find their niche and do it well. Maybe I haven’t found my calling yet, maybe I have and I just need to focus. I hope time will tell a successful story. To be continued…

Meanwhile, this Alicia Florrick’s relationship with Finn in The Good Wife is…ermm something. I was just saying how I loved their innocent friendship with no strings and then…. Well, I’m still on season 6 episode 9 so very behind. I might be wrong after all. But they are a perfect couple sha! As for that Peter, I rebuke husbands like him…. Hian! Do people like Lemond Bishop really exist!!! Lol no spoilers please!

Until next time, which will be sooner than you think!



Update: A day in the Nigeria High Commission

Following my experience a few years ago, which I cannot say was categorically bad but could have been better, I wasn’t looking forward to going back. However, I had to sort out my son’s passport so I had absolutely no choice. 

What gave me so hope though was the comments I had been receiving in the last few weeks on my ‘A day in the Nigeria High Commission’ post, which sounded more positive, like things had definitely improved. So I decided to go back with an open mind and updated my blog accordingly, hence this blogpost.

I went back on the Tuesday of this week and I must say that things have improved. However, I wish they had step free access. Thankfully I went with my husband and he was able to carry the baby buggy up and down the stairs as required. I can promise you that no one will offer to help you. So just go prepared to carry your buggy yourself. I saw a lady who didn’t even bring a buggy for her daughter. Very smart woman. She just wore her baby bjorn and positioned her daughter in it and walked in and out of the embassy freely. Lol I made a note to myself to do that the next time I have to bring a baby to the embassy.

The irony however is that there is a lift in the building! However, the lift is enclosed behind the staff cubicle, so only staff members can use the lift! *sigh* I rest my case. I have nothing further to say about that.

Back to the issue at hand. So we got there late, thanks to looking for step free access to get to the embassy seeing as the direct train from London Bridge to Charing Cross is no longer running for the rest of the year, and the lifts on the jubilee line in London Bridge are also not working. PS: if you need step free access, plan before hand or make sure there is someone that can go with you to help you with your buggy or wheelchair. When I say late, I mean we got thre around 10:30am. The man at the door checked the documents and let us in. We proceeed to go downstairs where we approached the man with the tickets. He looked at my husband and said that he cannot give him a ticket until he sees a permission from my son’s mother for my husband to apply for a passport on behalf of my son. At which point I stepped forward and said I was his mother, so he gave us a ticket. Now let’s pause here. What do you guys think about this? That I have my husband permission to apply for a passport does not mean that I gave him permission to take our son out of the country. But I guess without a passport he won’t be able to take him out. I also guess they have to deal with all sorts to people everyday so they have to assume every one has dodgy intentions.

As we walked in, I spotted a friend in the waiting room, who went to on explain he was there the day before with his niece and they sent him back because he didn’t have her birth certificate. I would hate to be sent back home only to come back and start the process all over again. Thankfully, my organised husband had brought over and beyond all the documents they could possibly ask for, even our marriage certificate.

The good thing was his, we spent only two and a half hours there, we were attended to promptly. A tip for those going in the future, when you pick your number just sit still. Because if they call your number and you don’t respond , they move on to the next number.

I remember one of the people that commented on my last post about the NHC that she said there was now a restaurant in there. This is true. I didn’t not go there but while we were waiting for our biometrics to be done, a lady came to announce in the waiting room upstairs that there was a restaurant downstairs that sold pounded yam, Amala etc for 5 pounds a dish and we should go downstairs via the corridor opposite the toilet and if we get lost, we should follow our nose.

We were also grately entertained in the upstairs waiting room, watching our first lady’s visit to Ondo state. I didn’t realise Onyeka had sang a song for her, somethingg along the lines of don’t call me Patience, call me Mama Peace! Ah! It was a catchy tune sha. Mama Peace looked hot and bored sha. I guess it didn’t help they were mostly speaking a language she did not understand.

Anyway, all in all, it was a positive experience. However, There is still that need of the staff having an opinion about your choices or your misfortune though, which truly isn’t their business. For example, what is the guy at the door who checks your document to let you in business about whether or not you always lose your Nigerian passport but never your British passport. Has it ever occurred to them that it is relatively easier to renew your British passport than the journey you have to make to naija house to listen to their chastisement before you can get a new passport? 

Hopefully in the future we will be able to apply by post for baby first passport or post them our passport photograph for them to issue our passport. The only downside would be that a lot of people in that place could end up losing their jobs.

Please note that this blog is based on my own experiences. Feel free to share your own experiences here.



3 Gbosas for God

How great is my God! He never sleeps and he doesn’t slumber!

There are some news you hear that just makes you want to climb up to heaven and give God a big fat wet kiss on his lips and say, go on God, there are truly benefits to worshipping you!

However, I realise that would mean I have to die first! Lol my purpose on earth is not yet finished. I shall be patient.

But God, you are good and we shall sing and rejoice in you, we shall continually testify of your goodness! I am proud and honoured to be your daughter!

Let’s us continually pray without ceasing, for he answers at the appointed time. I pray your testimony will be right around the corner for you, waiting to embrace you!

I shall be back!

Enjoy the rest of your week!



The ‘push’ story

Push! Push! The doctors screamed while Angel looked in agony and tried to bring her cherub into this world!

Lol that is so far from the truth!

*excuse typos pls. First draft disappeared into the empty space of wordpress!*

I promised my push story so here it is! During my pregnancy, I was thankful not to have any complications. I was healthy, active and probably did a lot more travelling while I was pregnant than I have ever done before. This is partly because I knew once the baby arrived I will be on lock down for a few months before the restless traveller in me will up and go again. We went to Germany, Venice and Florence in Italy and then I went to Brussels with my friends. Anyway this post is not about my travels.

I always thought I would be one of those people that my waters will break in public with my husband nowhere insight and a stranger being forced to take me to the hospital. This is also not the case I’m sure you can tell I have watched too many sitcoms. I thankfully had a more or less very undramatic pregnancy. In fact, I always say I didn’t have any cravings to my husband’s delight. He was happy he didn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night to look for amala and gbegiri or any other authentic naija food I may have wanted. If I must pick one craving it would be ice! I loved crushing them between my teeth!

I enjoyed my pregnancy until the last 4 weeks when I just couldn’t wait for him to be out and I was tired of being huge. Also, we were in the middle of moving houses and the house we were moving to required quite a number of things done to it. My fear was my baby would arrive before the house was ready. During the building works, my sister inlaw came to rescue me and took me to her house where I was instructed to put my feet up. My nephews did such a great job in taking care of me and anytime I asked for the usual, they knew that meant a cup filled with crushed ice!

My next fear became giving birth in my sister inlaws house. Thankfully, our house was ready for me to move back in after two weeks of staying with my sister inlaw. My husband made sure I kept active even though all I wanted to do was snuggle under a blanket and watch movies and tv series all day. He always found a reason to drag me out and made me walk. I guess this was helpful in beginning the labour. Exactly a week before my due date, my husband and I decided to go to watch 12 years a slave in the cinema. While some people were crying watching Chiwetele Ejiofor suffer, I was trying to understand the tightening that was going on in my tummy. I soon realised I was having Braxton hicks for the first time in my pregnancy. However, unlike Braxton hicks, it didn’t stop, he kept on going and coming every 15 minutes.

I told my husband of this development but as he could see I wasn’t in pain he didn’t worry. After the movie we went home and I was disappointed the labour did not escalate further. The next day, the same thing happened and I found I could easily ignore them because I wasn’t in pain. This went on until Wednesday when I realised I couldn’t walk through contractions. Although they weren’t very painful, they stopped me in my steps. It still wasn’t too bad so I did not let my husband go to work. Hian! I thought I was in pain, however, in hindsight, I was still able to update my friends and use the contractions counter app which meant I was not yet in pain. My friend, girly accountant, had sent me her tens machine which I was now using to manage the pain. Now the thing about tens machine I found out was this, when I had it on, I didn’t think it was doing anything to the pain, however when I took it off, the pain I felt was more. I’m yet to decide if it was psychological. At this stage, none of the normal signs of labour had happened to me. My water had not broken and my plug was still in tact. My husband ran me a warm bath which was very soothing and helped managed the pain as well.

By that night, babes weren’t smiling any more. I put everything I learnt at my ante natal class into practice and they helped but it didn’t stop the fact I was still in a bit of pain. My husband called his sister to come and help us. A few hours after she arrived, at about midnight, on Wednesday I told my husband I was ready to go to the hospital. He had been keeping the hospital updated on my progress but they suggested I stayed at home as long as possible, especially as I was a first time mum. Against their advice I forced him to take me in.

We were met by this silly midwife when we got there. If I wasn’t in pain I would have given her a good piece of my mind but I decided to conserve my energy. First of all, she told me that I would probably be in labour for another couple of days as a first time mum (I rejected this). Then she said my temperature was too high which meant I may not be able to give birth in the midwife led unit and I would have to move to the labour ward (I rejected this as well). Thirdly she said I had protein in my urine, which is a pregnant woman’s worst nightmare (which I also rejected). I asked this woman if they sent her to me. I told her my urine tests have come out clean for the last 9 months it’s now when I’m in labour you are seeing protein. She did the test again and realised she made a mistake. She gave me some cocodamol for the pain and monitored my temperature. She had checked how dilated I was (which is also a painful process) and concluded I was only 2cm dilated. She gave me the bad news that she couldn’t admit me until I was 4cm dilated. She monitored my temperature about about an hour and when it was back down to normal, she sent me back home to have a good night rest.

There was nothing restful about the night. It was just so uncomfortable. I was on the bed then on the floor then on all fours. I struggled to find a comfortable position. When I found myself crying during the contractions, I woke my husband up and told him it was time to go to the hospital again. We prayed that I would have progressed sufficiently and then we set out for the hospital. We forgot the camera, my iPad etc everything I wanted to take. The only thing we didn’t forget was my hospital bag! As if things were not bad enough, there was traffic on the way to the hospital. It took everything within me not to scream or take it out on my husband. My constant mantra was to preserve my energy. We eventually got to the hospital at 9:30am on Thursday. Thankfully, the silly midwife was off shift, I had no complications and I could have my baby in the midwife led unit as opposed to the labour ward.

My new midwife was called Letizia, she is from Zimbabwe. She was a very thorough and sweet woman. She checked me and gave me the great news that I was now 5cm dilated. Even though on average I should have dilated 1cm per hour, I had only dilated 3cm in 8 hours. It didn’t bother me though because I was just happy to be in the hospital where I could manage the pain properly. She asked me how I wanted to manage the pain so I asked for gas and air. She asked if i wanted to use the birthing pool and I said yes. So she ran another warm bath for me in a purpose built pool and she monitored the temperature of the pool, constantly changing the water to reduce the risk of infection or anything adverse. It was so soothing to be in the pool and my husband held the gas and air tube in my mouth so I could suck on it. The gas and air experience was fantastic. Lol it was like I was high and having an out of body experience. I could hear what people were saying and understand but I felt like I was far away. That far away feeling helped me cope with the pain. I can’t explain how, but the gas and air combined with me twisting my body in different shapes and forms as required, my weight supported by the water, really helped me manage my pain.

I felt completely weightless in the water and eventually lost track of time. My midwife told my husband she was going to the toilet quickly and if he needs her to pull a certain cord. When she left the room, I felt the need the push but at the back of my head I questioned this feeling because I was expecting to be in the hospital for a lot longer before needing to push. I told my husband this and in his attempt to call the midwife, he pulled the wrong cord which happened to be the emergency cord! All the doctors and midwives in that unit came running into my room! Even in my condition it was funny! He quickly apologised and explained to them I felt the need to push and he pulled the wrong cord. Thankfully they didn’t give him a hard time about it and my midwife was bag.

*side note: I was very impressed with how quickly they responded to the emergency call though*

I told my midwife I felt like pushing. She just told me to do what my body felt like doing and I shouldn’t force it, I should just go with the flow! I had never heard this advice on all the tv shows I had been watching. I was expecting a push push chant lol! However, I was thankful for being able to control the process. She however told me that if I wanted to give birth to my son in the water then I had to make sure that when I deliver his head, his head is completely immersed in water otherwise, she won’t be able to put his body back in the water to deliver the rest of his body, which made sense. So I made a mental note to remember.

Before I knew it, with no assistance at all, I pushed when I felt like and then voila, the head was out. It wasn’t as bad as j thought, there was a bit of a burning sensation but not enough to dwell on. Within the next two contractions the rest of my son was born. My cherub was born at 11:30am, 2 hours after I got to the hospital. Which means I dilated 5cm in less than 2hrs. I am pointing this out because no two women are the same. Peoples bodies react in different ways in different circumstances.

She handed him to me immediately and I realised he looked nothing like me and everything like his father! I was so filled with joy! His dad cut the placenta and held on to him while Letizia helped me out of the birthing pool to a flat cushion so I could deliver the placenta! Did you know after the baby comes the placenta? Me I didn’t know until I got pregnant and started doing the research. I had two options, she could either give me an injection in my leg that would help detach the placenta or I could wait to push it out with my contractions as I did my baby. I couldn’t be bothered to go through it all again so I opted for the injection. It took a bit longer than I would have liked but it all finally came out!

My husband and Letizia kept on going on about how I didn’t scream and I did very well. I was too focused on mentally managing the pain I didn’t scream. Some midwives knocked on my door later to find out if this was the room a lady was in labour in because they couldn’t hear anything from outside. In fact, through out my stay at the hospital I felt like a local champion lol.

Although the whole labour process wasn’t too bad and I was able to manage the pain sufficiently, all the movements I did in the pool took its tool on my body afterwards. My muscles ached for a few hours after. It felt like the feeling you would get if you had been swimming non stop for 2 hours. It was all worth it though.

The icing on the cake for me was this. The midwife led unit has only one private room on the ward. They had a policy that the first woman to give birth in the midwife led unit in a day could stay in the private room for free for as long as she wanted to. I was lucky that the previous occupant had just left, which meant the private room was for me and mine! The hospital food wasn’t even half bad, we even got dessert! I asked them when I will be discharged and I was told when I’m ready to go, I could go. I decided to spend the first night at the hospital to establish breastfeeding. My sister inlaw was with me all along! She didn’t leave till after the naming ceremony. God bless her!

Our first guest was my mother inlaw who arrived that evening to begin her grandma duties and then, V3 of Dvees and her then fiancé (now husband) came to visit as well. My friend Nursh and my mum and aunt visited us the next day before we went home.

It was a truly beautiful experience and if I can be promised the labour will be the same or better, I can’t wait to do it all again!

Any questions, ask and I will answer to the best of my ability, based on my experience.


The mystery of aux pairs!

An au pair (plural: aux pairs) is a domestic assistant from a foreign country working for, and living as part of, a host family. Typically, aux pairs take on a share of the family’s responsibility for childcare as well as some housework, and receive a monetary allowance for personal use.

Happy New Year! I hope you are looking forward to the goodness the rest of the year will hold for you!

Back to the purpose of this blog, au pairs! I was rudely introduced to the mucky world of aux pairs, as one of my friends said when the incident happened.

For those of us who do not have the luxury of having a trusted family member help with childcare while we go back to work, and who giving up work temporarily for a year plus is not a feasible option, we turn to the affordable option of getting an au pair.

I started the search back in October and after asking to a number of our friends who continuously use aux pairs for the best way to find one, I registered with au pair world and another UK childcare website. It is free to read the au pairs profile but to contact them you have to pay at least 20 pounds to contact the au pairs for a period of 4 weeks, I think au pair world is roughly 40 euros for 6 weeks.

About three weeks into my search, and after several negative replies from the ones I contacted and me also letting some know they were not suitable for me, I met this 24 year old lady on the childcare website. She said she was interested in joining our family, I read her profile, I interviewed her on skype, she seemed okay. I arranged another interview for her to talk to my husband just to make sure we were on the same page, he agreed she seemed okay as well. So we let her know we will like her to join us and she said she will take down her profile and stop looking for another family, I did the same.

We asked her to provide a number of documents, from doctors report to a reference etc. She provided a doctors report, said she received no response from her last employer. I said okay, she provided me with the persons email address so it wasn’t too bad. Next she bought her ticket to fly from her country to the UK and sent me a copy of this. She sent me a copy of her passport, ID card etc. We were constantly in touch with what she should bring to register with the doctors here and so on.

On the eve of her arrival, I contacted her again to make sure she was okay and had everything she needed and also to make sure she knew how to get to me. Our last conversation was at 6pm. Fast forward to 6pm the next day. I tried reaching her, no response. I called nothing. Eventually at 7pm I asked if she was okay, she then replied saying:

yes I am okay. I am not coming to the UK again for now. Sorry.

I thought I was reading double. I had changed my son’s nursery from full time to two days a week starting the following Monday. I did not go to bed till 3am the night before just making sure her room was clean ready, I forgot to buy new sheets, I dashed off to the stores late at night to get emergency ones. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. This happened to other people, not to me. The dame thing happened to my aunt, her Romanian au pair never turned up. My friend as well had trialled this au pair for the weekend, they spilt the cost of travel for that weekend and then, as soon as she got back to Germany (if she went back) she stopped responding to my friend’s messages! I had heard these stories and hoped it won’t happen to me but ALAS, I was in for a surprise as well.

Thankfully, I had taken two days off this week to show her the ropes and my husband was able to take a day off as well and our son went to nursery the two days he was scheduled to go. Of course I swallowed my pride and got back on the phone to the nursery to ask for him to come back full time and I was so lucky they hadn’t yet found someone to take his place. He is back full time from next week.

My search for an au pair continues, but I don’t know what else I can do to ensure this process is successful. I remember that night talking about the room that was to be her room to my husband and I called it Rosie’s room and then I had to correct myself! It is not her room as she didn’t turn up, it is still a spare room. Each time I walk past that room, I feel like I can’t go inside, I can’t explain it. I just look at it from afar!

On the flip side, in happy this happened before she joined us and proved to be unreliable. God has a way of turning things for our good.

Wish me luck.



A little pity party

I’m having one of those days where I wish I could erase the whole day and start all over!

I knew it was bad when I found myself uttering the words… I wish I could postpone Christmas, I am just too busy at the moment to prepare for it and I really want to do it properly.

The above sentence seems to be the tag line of my life at the moment. I just feel like I need more time to do things properly because I have too much in my hands. Or maybe I just haven’t got the hang of managing my current situation effectively!

I am also currently being converted to the school of thought that it is impossible to do my job efficiently and effectively and leave early everyday to pick my son. Something has got to give. Either get some help at home for someone to look after him to give me some flexibility with work to stay behind when I need to, or just accept I will be rubbish at my job and unreliable to deliver work that may require me to spend a few extra hours after the time I need to leave to pick up my son.

As someone who is very career motivated, or shall I say was, the initial realisation that something must definitely had to give was very upsetting. Why can’t I do it all and do it all very well? I don’t want to look incompetent? I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t love my job, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked to cut my year long maternity leave short by a few months.

If today was anything to go by, my new mantra of ‘I can’t kill myself’ will have to comfort me. I can only do what I can do. Plus, I know I’m trying my best with the resources I have. It breaks my heart to disappoint my colleagues, but I can only hope this does not become a normal. The only way I can think of resolving this is to make sure I don’t take on more work I can sensibly do and also to make sure what matters, my family, know they have my full attention when I am with them.

Today was just an odd ball. I got up early to get to work early so I can get on with my work, especially as I knew I had tomorrow off. I parked my car and realised I had two minutes to catch my train so I ran, and I caught it. Then I had back to back meetings from 11:30-2:30pm, it took me 2hrs to eat lunch. What started out as egg noodles and beef in black bean sauce that was so hot ended up being a cold glob of food. I had another call at 3pm and then a deliverable for 4pm and I was due to finish work at 430pm. I clearly didn’t have enough time to finish my deliverable. So, it suffered and I cried for my incompetence, albeit temporarily. I’m still beating myself up because I didn’t t do a good job and I wanted to rectify this by staying an extra hour so I called my son’s nursery to ask if I could pay the late fee for me to pick him an hour later than normal and they tell me I needed to give them 24 hours notice! I didn’t plan to be incompetent today 24 hours in advance I wanted to scream. So, that was my plan to rectify the situation out of the window. I apologised to the manager I was working with and left with my tails between my legs, to pick up my son.

On the train home, I realised in my rush to get to work I forgot to pay for parking! I got to my car to find a parking ticket. Could my day get any worse? I got to the nursery bang on the hour, the first thing his teacher or is it carer will say to me is she needs me to sign an incident report form. I’m like what is it again? She then tells me another child had bitten my darling son, twice! But, his skin did not break there was no blood, they put a cold compress immediately. At this point I wanted to slap someone. I just took a deep breath, signed the papers. Sucked my tears of frustration in and carried my son out of the place to head home.

That is the summary of my day! Once he falls asleep I need to finish a report for work and then my holiday can officially start. After all, it’s DT’s birthday on Saturday, I have to get my hair done tomorrow and get w manicure and pedicure. I can’t kill myself. I owe myself a treat, let me look human, if just for a day.

That is me for now. Hope to blog more frequently… I still haven’t shared my birth story. Coming very soon!




Is instagram the new blog platform?

Micro blog and just wondering….

I was scrolling through my Instagram and realised it could be the reason I don’t blog as much anymore. Instead of writing long blogs about what I want to say, I can just put up a picture and summarise it.

Also, I’m beginning to find people advertising on their instagram as well, not their products but other non related products on behalf of other Instagram users, which kind of reminds me of some of the main stream blogs.

So have any of you my fellow bloggers taken to Instagram as the lazy way out of blogging?


Picking up new habits

Has anyone found that they are picking up new habits as they grow older?

I picked up cooking and baking while I was at university and absolutely loved it hence why I still do it. Then I fell in love again with knitting about 2 years ago and I’m still updating my skills. I find myself wishing I had more down time to knit more and churn out a lot more of my knitted goods but mama duties call first!

Now I feel like I’m about to fall in love with two new skills, sewing (which I have no idea how to do) and classic poetry!

Sewing I want to pick up because i’m tired of London tailors asking for 40-60 pounds to sew one outfit. If they sew the style I requested for correctly then maybe I would not be as bitter. They often get it wrong! I might as well learn to sew and do my thing myself.

Poetry on the other hand I have always had an interest in. My interest was more in the writing than reading. I stopped enjoying reading poetry in high school when we got tested on it in English. I just didn’t get it and lost interest in it. I focused more on writing, mostly love poems. Now that I’m older and wiser, I’m beginning to very slowly venture into reading and appreciating poems again. Don’t ask me who my favourite poet is as I have none yet. I hope this new appreciation lasts!

Where I will find the time to do this all I don’t know but I’m looking forward to attempting!

Anyway, hope you are all having a lovely week and to my Londoners, how you are enjoying the last of the summer sunshine!



The taxi chronicles

I know I have been quiet for a while. I have been so busy. In fact, when mstizzle visited me yesterday, she understood how busy I was.

There are so many things I have in mind to blog about, but the incompetence of taxi company operators takes the lead this time around.

pls pardon my phrasing and grammar, I’m still upset and wanted to publish this before the young man needs me.

Let’s start with when we were away in Hereford. I was looking to book about 5 return journeys to the airport with a taxi company. The first taxi company told me to email all the details to them they will reply immediately. Two days later, they had not replied so I called them and the lady told me her boss would reply before the end of the day. It was not until the day before the first airport run that he finally replied in the evening saying I had to pay the taxi fares before hand (over a thousand pounds). The truth is I was open to doing this if he had communicated promptly but also skeptical because if it was taking him this long to respond to my emails, how am I so sure he won’t run away with my money, especially as I had never used the company before. I just told them not to bother.

Move on to the next Hereford taxi company, blue line, that is the name of the taxi company. The lady I spoke to was polite. I gave her all the details she confirmed them with me. Which why i do not understand why they made a silly mistake. She sent a driver to pick someone up from the airport a day before I asked her to! How incompetent is that? Fair enough it was a mistake but then another of her colleagues was on the phone to me giving me attitude saying I had to pay for the trip to the airport! My blood was hot and is still hot but God will deal with her for me.

As if that was not enough, the other job we booked them on to pick someone up, they kept calling us saying the person was not yet out. I then said to the woman that it is not unusual for people to come out of the airport late and it depends on customs/immigration etc. She was so rude to me! She kept on going on about how it was not unreasonable for her to ask me how long the lady the driver was picking up would be. I told her I had no way of knowing because there is no hard and fast rule that immigration officers would spend a set number of time per passenger, it takes as long as it takes. Sha sha in her rudeness I cancelled the rest of my booking with her company and used a taxi company based in London instead because all these Hereford taxi companies were giving me a headache. That was the end of Hereford taxi palava.

Now, closer to home, this evening sef. There is a particular taxi company I always use. In the last few weeks we have had a very full house so calling taxi is like drinking water. Today, I called at taxi at 3pm for a 7pm pick up to go to the airport for one of our guests, emphasising I needed a taxi for one person and 3 suitcases. At 7pm, the taxi arrived. The man parked at the opposite side of the road reluctant to come out. I had to shout across, please I need help. He eventually came out, looked across the road and shouted, the suitcases won’t fit in his car. I told him I asked for a taxi for three suitcases and one person. I could already tell he didn’t want to do the job and had somewhere else to be. He eventually left the luggage on the floor, entered into his car to call his office. I too called his office as well and what would the woman tell me, she said she couldn’t understand my mumbling voice! I said, I have called your office several times over the last few weeks to book taxis and my mumbling voice was okay then, now I have an issue you do not understand my mumbling voice. She said she doesn’t see what the problem is, I asked for a taxi at 7 and it is there. I said yes it is but he says he can’t carry all the suitcases and I asked for a taxi for three suitcases. She then asked if there were three big suitcases! I’m like you should have asked that before sending the taxi and I specified three suitcases not two suitcases and a hand luggage. She resorted back to she couldn’t understand me again, and she can send another taxi. I told her not to bother.

I called another taxi company. This one said the taxi will be with me in 15 minutes. 20 minutes later there was no taxi. I called the company again, they said they did not have the booking on their system. At this point my head was hot, the lady is waiting to go to the airport and it was 20 minutes after the time we originally wanted the taxi. I explained to him that I spoke to a lady, she told me the taxi will be with me in 15 minutes and it would cost 70 pounds, which was even more expensive than the first taxi but at this point i didn’t mind. He said she didn’t get all my details so they couldn’t send my taxi. Arggghhhh! I just handed it over to my husband to deal with it!

Who does that?! Usually taxi companies have caller id. So they could have called me back to ask me for whatever detail they claimed not to have had. So I was sitting there for 20 minutes waiting for them to come. After my husband spoke with him, another taxi eventually arrived 15 minutes later!

Phew! I still have a head ache. It is making me wonder whether I am the one with the issue or if incompetence is the new cool! These companies clearly make their money because their job is a necessity, I mean people need them, as oppose to them being good at what they do.

Okay, that’s me for now. I should be back soon.


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