Another one from deep within the MHAM draft posts that never made it to air…until now.
Back in 2021…
I was thinking to myself the other day “you know what? There aren’t enough podcasts in the world. And golly, there sure as heck aren’t enough opinions being shared around. I should do something to rectify this immediately!”
Or, alternatively, I saw an advert for the free podcasting creator, Anchor, and thought I’d give it a shot.
Several coffees later and some playing about with low-budget graphics and ta-da! A podcast was born:
(Before you say anything, I really cannot stress the low budget-ness of this production. Low budget in the sense there is none.)
Who knows what will become of this, but basically it’s me talking to myself for up to half an hour and in episode one I talk about what lead me to start writing a blog. If you enjoy the concept of a one-woman natter then you’re in for a right royal treat.
I honestly could not be selling this venture harder if I tried. It’s just something I’m giving a go at for a bit of fun.
Surprise, surprise, it didn’t catch on and after forcing myself through four recordings I stopped podcasting and went back to pure writing. I think as much as anything it was the realisation that podcasting with free software is difficult (in that I found the free to use software incredibly limiting and of overall poor production value).
I’m currently in the process of getting the original recordings saved (would you believe it, the platform appears to give podcast owners no access to downloading their own work once published).
For now, enjoy the bittersweet car crash that was the MHAM podcast and who knows, maybe I’ll revive it one day on better terms.
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On 11th November 2014, I went to the supermarket to buy toilet roll, which inspired me to start a blog. Ten years later, I’m still here.
Five years ago I wrote the very aptly named piece, Five YearsAgo Today…. Aside from it being very surreal that five more years have gone by, a hell of a lot more has changed since then.
What MHAM is, and always will be, is an insight into my world, from the highs of getting my short stories published, to the foot injury lows and the ranty McRant face of Jus-Rol’s cinnamon swirls. It has also been the place to share all the wonderful holidays I’ve undertaken as a solo traveller and, more recently, with my wonderful “Boyfriend Ben”. I setup a social group for young people, moved to London, came back from London, built a career from a History degree in execution and country houses. I’ve volunteered for nine separate non profits, and met an amazing bloke who to this day continues to champion my corner, inspiring me to strive for the stars each and every day. It really has been a rollercoaster of emotional content.
Around the world there are so many instances of people being denied their freedom of expression and creativity, which is why I feel so privileged to have the family and professional career that supports me to keep doing what I love. It is the utter joy I get from recognition and compliments, the unexpected surprise when someone reaches out to say how much they enjoy my work. The odd competition win or shortlisting. It is those glints of gold that give me the euphoric buzz to keep hitting these keys.
In 2014, on that chilly dark night where nothing seemed possible, I discovered my voice. And you, the reader, are 75% of the reason why I’m still here. Thank you.
With little more to add, I will leave you with visual memories of the last ten years (and a couple from before) and a simple vow, that I will continue to write for ten more years and beyond, whatever form that takes.
May your hearts always be full and your coffee only slightly spilled.
AEB x
**
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From the makers of Seven Degrees of Pie, ladies and gentlemen, I present you with the collage-card I gifted my sister for her birthday:
Now, I know how it looks. It looks like I found a really old newspaper, cut it up and threw it altogether to squeeze into a birthday card…
In my defence, I didn’t realise the coupon for the iweekend newspaper was dated.
Besides, who couldn’t be left in absolute awe over the contents of this birthday card? It has words such as “amazing”, “5*”, “Discover Paradise”, and a inserts of a pilot with a ukulele and Richard Madeley with a knowing smile.
I obviously threw in some smudgy words into the gap before handing it to her, but we all know the real reason why it’s a birthday card she won’t forget in a hurry. After all, you know what they say, “don’t judge a [generic greetings card] by its cover.”
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My birthday card writing skills need no introduction, which is why I present to you my latest iteration for my sister’s birthday. Ladies and gentlemen, I call this “Seven Degrees of Pie”
Let me quickly summarise (as I know the lack of space makes the writing legibility a bit hit and miss in places):
Blueberry pie! Which is as cute looking as…
Kitty pie! Kitty pie sounds as funny to say as…
Pizza pie! Which is orange in colour, like…
Pumpkin pie! This particular pumpkin pie looks like a face, like…
Pacman pie! Pacman pie rushes after tasty treats like…
Pie Face! (the Beano character) Pie Face = …
Pie…on your face. See! The proof is in the pie!
There you have it. My very well thought out logic that one is never more than seven moves from being pied. And just think, I never went to Philosophy school.
**
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Less than an hour after I upload my last post, Alice’s “Chicken Con Carne”, my phone buzzes. Two separate messages, one from Mumma B and the other from brutally honest mate Laura. Wishing we well? Asking what I’m up to? Nope, expressing concern over my grasp of international dialogue and my hands. As you do.
That’s right, I did indeed study Food Technology and the Spanish language at GCSE, with respective grades of A and B (I even won an award for my cooking). Where did it all go wrong? One word, University-catered-halls-of-residence-slash-studying-hard-slash-it-was-around-this-time-I-discovered-GoT-and-daytime-TV.
It gets worse. I visited Mumma B the other day and she’s given me a knife, that is how concerned she is. It must make her the first parent in history to thrust a knife into her daughter’s hand and beg me to take it. She even smuggled it into my handbag when I tried to leave it behind.
(The best bit? The video was recorded months ago. The face on Mumma B when I told her? Priceless.)
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I cannot believe it’s been two years since I first heard “Six-year-old’s lockdown song to missed friends” (catchy title, I grant you).
What do you mean, you haven’t heard this song? What the heck is right with you?!
Say what you want about the first UK lockdown in 2020, but the local news reporting was at the very top of its game back then. Slow news month? Pfft! I don’t know what you’re taking about!
I can’t find the video on YouTube, okay, so you’ll have to trust me this link is safe and click on it to have a listen for yourself:
And please don’t ask me how much time I spent trying to find this on the internet. An unhealthy amount, that’s what. (And an amount that could well have put me on some police-watch list).
Ah, April 2020. As I recall, around about this time I was spending 90% of my day rocking back and forth with a half-eaten packet of dry cream crackers in my hand. With this song stuck in my head.
Those were the days.
**
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Check out this beautiful, hand-made, Japanese silk face covering I just purchased from KatyBeesDesignStudio, on Etsy.
Who needs makeup and filters when you can look this damn fine? (And/or have something covering half your face anyway.) PS – hair was doing its own thing that day, it could not be tamed for love nor a litre of hair-care products.
It’s so incredibly comfy to wear and comes fitted with a top metal strip and slot-in space for a removeable air filter, should you wish to have one. Even before I’d had chance to put it on, I felt like an utter princess from the packaging presentation.
As well as the face covering (delivered in a rainbow pager bag), she sent me an air filter in a drawstring bag and some cute trinkets in a little drawstring pouch. You know how I get over little trinket items. It really was the icing on the cake
Katy hasn’t sponsored me to write this post but it’s been a long two years and it’s been a while since I got excited over something as mundane as a face covering. I simply had to rave about it.
A quick one from me to wish all my readers a very merry Christmas and, if Christmas isn’t your thing, a relaxing few days with happiness and relaxation a plenty.
With love and hugs, Alice x
(Ps, if you’re after some fireside reading, you do know there’s a wealth of past blog posts on my Contents page? You’re welcome.)
**
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Can I just start with the most middle-class, Cotswold drama to have occured this year at Christmas. Mumma B, setting her prized oven mits on fire, by accidentally placing them over a Yankee candle.
The best bit? Mumma B’s first reaction to my panic was to assume the vegetables were boiling over. I don’t think it quite trumps the time I dropped the Michael Buble Christmas CD in a tray of turkey fat, but it’s a close second.
Anyway…
Letters, Books, Pigeons: Christmas 2021
Music
I’m going to start as we mean to go on, with this:
You know what? The more times I watch it, the more times I think there is nothing in here the great George Michael and Andrew Ridgley of Wham! would take issue with.
From the soundtrack to the casual bit of inter breed dating, I only hope, and I truly mean this from the bottom of my heart, that George Michael was able to watch this before his death in 2016.
(And if you think any of this is tragic just remember, this wasn’t even the worst thing I came across. Nowhere near.)
I’m Dreaming of a White…Pigeon
When it comes to Christmas, everyone has a different interpretation for what festivities look like. Some people have robins in snow, in Swindon we’ve got pigeons bathing in overflowing waste drains.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
Interior Decorations
While I’m not one of those who puts up decorations super early, I am a fan of Christmas when it does come along. Anything to get me over the trauma of Halloween.
Genuinely can’t be trusted to watch a 12-rated spook film without freaking out at the slightest jump-scare. Years it took me to get over Disney’s The Haunted Mansion, years.
I put up my tree…
…and proceded to smash up my beloved retro starburst clock, by attempting to hang lights off it. The entire glass dial, smashed into a trillion bitty pieces.
Mazel Tov! (Oh, wait, that’s the wrong religion.)
Moving along…
Shopping
It’s always nice when Jesus graces you with his presence when you’re out and about shopping, even if his eyeless sockets are a little bit menacing.
We buy all these presents, yet not one of them is for him? So humble.
And I’m not going to lie, arguably the gifting has already peaked this year. That happened recently when my family teamed up to buy me a whole set of matching Next kitchenware.
My goodness, it’s so beautiful.
Huh? Sorry, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, presents.
I mean, at the same birthday I also got given this:
Honestly, the embarassment of opening this in front of my family, alongside Next kitchenware. Not just that, reading the blurb out! Trust me, it gets worse. Deary me, my cheeks were not ready for that leavel of red. (Thanks Matt, mission accomplished!)
Now this, this is the sort of tat I can get into.
(But not buy.)
Hang on a second, I’m sure I’ve seen something like this before.
My goodness, talk about nerve!
That was on sale for £2 less in 2019!
It set me up to be in a right unimpressed British emoji-type mood when my younger sister pointed this sign-board out to me.
No, just no.
Ignoring all of the random shop items, this year my best purchase has to be, without a shadow of a doubt, my new fountain pen.
I bought the pen, then proceeded to Google how to make it work.
There’s definetely something ironic in using the internet to lookup the basics of how to use a pen.
Letters
One of my favourite things I like to do every year is write Christmas cards. This year, with so many of my colleagues based overseas that meant a bit more spent on stamps but heck, they’re worth it.
For clarity, these aren’t the only cards I’ve written. I have more than five friends.
I’m still at the stage of life where I don’t have five million of them to write out, and/or pressing life matters that see every night booked up from 1st August, through to 15th January. I can treat myself to the odd night of pure card-writing, jotting out personalised notes to those nearest and dearest. It gives me a kind of buzz.
What can I say? Some people have alcohol, I have cards. We both have wrecked tounges.
Terrible Christmas Films (No, Really)
When I write cards, wrap presents etc, I tend to stick on one of those terribly wonderful Hallmark-type Christmas films on. Predictable and, I used to think, unoffensive. That was, until I saw this clip:
THEY DON’T EVEN EAT THE FOOD!!
What kind of dining-out date is this? Nu-huh, I’m sorry mate, you can stop juggling those oranges, because if I’m not getting a look-in on that Tupperware box, then you ain’t getting this.
(Close friends have also pointed out countless other things that make no sense in this montage, however I’m sticking firm on the lack-of-food being the absolute worst. Three words; girl, gotta, eat.)
On that note… *returns to phone to scroll through her tailored Facebook adverts*
Serves me right for being an insomniac. And, on the topic of sleep, a late night pop to the shops to buy some milk and I spot this:
“…Does it come with a receipt?”
Coffee
Oh, hey! Almost forgot. It’s December now, so that means my diet is even more whacky than other months* (*let’s be honest, my diet is hardly enviable). Did someone invite me to go around all the coffee shops, drink gingerbread lattes and not eat anything until evening, when I have a three course meal?
(Not that I ever want to have a three course meal, even two courses is an extreme for me, but because it’s December suddenly that’s a thing. Gonna get me a sweet, sweet latte, bigger than my tiny wrist can hold.)
Anyway, yes, yes that’s me. And I will read a book in there and no, you will not have a hope of kicking me out until at least two hours have passed, and not a minute before.
Unrelated note, does anyone else get life this after getting heavily involved with an emotional book?
“Walking through the dark and cold drizzel of town, after a 2+ hour coffee shop reading session. So full of mixed emotions right now, I genuinely don’t know whether to cry or feel inspired. Just me, or does anyone else have to take a lie down when the book feel get this intense?”
Turns out, it’s just me.
“Ink not coming out of fountain pen” is a niche search entry, I’ll give you that. Maybe not quite as popular as Ariana Grande but heck, you’ve gotta keep these traditions alive.
Conclusions
You know what? Stuff it! I’m just gonna book myself on a professionally accredited course to learn about unicorn magic…
…and go watch the Swindon Wildcats play down the local rink.
In fairness, it was such a good game.
Wait, There’s More!
Before you go, remember that video I included at the start of this post? Well, guess what? The creator only went and made an improved version and/or (to be honest I’m not entirely sure which) sequeal a few years later! Yeah, I know!
Better still, the soundtrack features the musical stylings of Cascada, covering Wham!
Honestly, between these music videos and that pictre of pigeons washing themselves in waste water, I really don’t think Christmas could really peak much more than this.
**
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My Housemate's a Mermaid 