My Housemate’s a Mermaid – THE PODCAST

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.

“My Housemate’s a Mermaid – The Podcast” available on Spotify

Jumping back to 2025…

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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10 Years of “My Housemate’s a Mermaid”

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 Years Ago 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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And then I panicked with the courgette (zucchini)

Hello, present-day Alice here. I found this post deep in my draft archives, 2021 deep. On one hand I have no idea why it never got posted, and on the other hand I have every idea.

While some things have changed since this was first drafted (notably the fact I was very much single in 2021), you’ll be pleased to know the cooking skills are still as horrific now as they were then. I did it then, and I have no doubt I’d do it all over again if given half the chance…and a courgette.

So, that in mind, enjoy. AEB

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You know how when someone says they’re a fat person in a skinny person’s body, you nod along? Well, I am that person, the one who doesn’t understand how she’s not yet stuck in a doorway.

I honestly think the only reason I’m still a healthy weight is be because I’m a slave in the Matrix, and the aliens are milking me for battery juice. (It’s a normal thought process to have, right?)

Take this evening and my portion control when it comes to this mass-produced Quorn Spaghetti Bolognese:

(FYI, not a vegetarian, just trying to do my bit for the planet…and stop Paul McCartney coming after me.)

And yes, there are also frozen vegetables in there, but let’s not dwell on the lengths I go to to ‘stodge-out’ a meal.

The thing is, it was a perfectly normal* (*Alice’s version of normal) meal. But then I had this courgette. And the courgette was on the turn (it was a little bit squidgy), but it was something Mumma B had given to me, so I was determined to not let it go to waste. But the mince-stuff was already cooked and rapidly burning.

Basically, I panicked.

I hurry-sliced the courgette, coated it in black pepper, drowned it in olive oil and then threw it in the oven. I don’t know why, I just did. And even as I type this, I am very much aware this is an Alice-world problem.

Anyway, about ten minutes later (Married at First Sight was on and I may have got distracted), I retrieved the cooked-baked mush that was once a courgette and dolloped it onto my dinner plate. By now the pasta was stodgy and the mince mostly burnt on the bottom of the pan. To add to this, I didn’t quite feel satisfied that the first picture illustrated the large portion of food I had on my plate. So what did I do?

Yes, that’s right, I compared it to the size of a teabag.

This, this is what I do for content. Jeeze.

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Writer’s Cartoon of the Week – “The Editor”

Full credit goes to Pia Guerra and Ian Boothby for this cartoon (lifted from The New Yorker Magazine’s Instagram account) that I know many writers will relate to.

In my case, my “editor” tends to be my boyfriend, and he is a rubbish one. He lets me ramble, resulting in me digging a massive hole for myself and revealing myself to be the utter muppet I am (probably why he lets me do it!)

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A very BBC reaction to UK politics

I was watching some of BBC’s in-depth news coverage of the Conservative party leadership the other night and couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It’s BBC Newsnight at its best impartial tongue-in-cheek self.

For context:

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Plant Takeaway: the Eden Project Exhibition that still Traumatises me

Few things have shaped me more than a mechanic exhibition housed in the visitor centre of Cornwall’s world famous Eden Project. Shaped me, in a negative way.

Back in 2000, when the biomes for The Eden Project were still under construction, the visitor centre was opened up to the public. I was eight years old. “This will be educational,” my parents thought, “Alice will get to see this amazing thing being built and learn a bit about the nice plants in the visitor centre.”

Traumatised I was. Traumatised.

Image credit, Joe N., FourSquare.com

Plant Takeaway, an exhibition also referred to as “The Dead Cat” (which personally I think says it all) is, according to the attraction’s website, “[an] automated puppet show that explores our total dependence on plants. Visitors watch as absolutely everything made of plants in Alan and Enid’s kitchen is taken away.”

It sounds all harmless enough, sure, but let me put to you this; Plant Takeaway features scary mannequins (and you know how I feel about those), nudity and what I have always assumed to be a “Peeping Tom”. It is a reminder of the importance of plants (big tick) and how their removal will result in the painfully slow erosion of everything you hold dear (uh-oh) until ultimately you die from starvation or a lack of oxygen, which ever comes first.

“…Daddy, am I going to die?”

I can see Mumma B rolling her eyes at me now, “she’s 30 and still going on about that silly mechanical exhibit at The Eden Project” but you know what, Mum, yes, I am still going to harp on about it. There was an eight year old me, eyeball to eyeball with a naked collapsed man. To top it all off the cat dies. That’s it, THE END.

I spent the rest of the day crying. When we got back to the holiday cottage we were staying at I was in a state best comparable to that time Hermione got herself petrified in Chamber of Secrets. I remember these things because I was haunted.

Image credit: Pinterest

I think I had a mild form of PTSD, Plant Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Years later we returned to The Eden Project, where as a teenager I was quickly rushed through the visitor centre. We’d all hoped Plant Takeaway would have been retired and thrown into a skip somewhere but nope, still there.

I was going for third time lucky when I visited last year. On seeing its ugly, clunky presence I decided to face my fears and watch it through to the bitter end.

I gave up halfway through.

In my defence I really did try, and in my equal defence this exhibition is a pile of trauma. Other people have recorded and uploaded the whole thing onto YouTube…or at least I assume so (I’m not going to check; go look yourself and on your own mental health be it).

The other 98% of The Eden Project is absolutely lovely and well worth a visit, but this? Nah. I have two questions to put to the management of this attraction 1) who in their right mind signed off the development of the Plant Takeaway exhibition and 2) who is continuing to let it stay?!

Uh-oh, I think I might have triggered myself again (passive-association from the memories). I’m off to get some ice cream.

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I need to do a collaboration with this artist!

This painted door in Funchal (Madeira) is beautiful!

Artist: Tiago Machado

Door number: 105

Funchal’s Painted Doors

Find out more about the other painted doors which feature in the city of Funchal’s ‘Old Town’ district (Rue de Santa Maria). Click this link or enter “Painted doors Madeira” into your trusty search engine. There are some absolute beauties to be found.

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Alice Takes on the Pudding Van

Someone abandoned their catering van on my housing estate. And I was not happy.

Look at it! It’s massive!

Naturally, I applied a very level-headed attitude to this. That’s right, I sent a ranty email to estate management. It went something like this:

WHY IS THERE A MASSIVE CATERING VAN PARKED IN A VISITOR SPACE? I’VE CHECKED THE REGISTRATION PLATE (“XXX XXX” for your reference) AND IT’S NOT TAXED OR INSURED. IT’S UGLY AND CLEARLY BEEN ABANDONNED. I PAY MY MANAGEMENT FEES, SORT IT OUT!

(The caps are a reflection of the shouty voice in my head…I may have also left the last bit out.)

Estate management responded, saying thay they’d located the vehicle’s owner and told them to move it within the next 48 hours.

48 hours came and went, the van unmoved.

I wish I could say I became tolerant of the pudding van’s presence, but when you’re facing onto something like that every time you go to make a cup of tea, it’s very hard to let go. (Plus, you know, me.)

Whilst waiting for the owners to be chased up again, I did a little investigation of myself. By in investigation, I meant be super nosey.

There weren’t any company details on the van and the only online presence seemed to take me back to a deactivated Facebook page, from when it operated out of Pershore some 56 miles away.

Instead of hard, concrete information, I had to deal with statements like this:

It reads: “Feeling stressed? Stressed backwards is desserts”

I don’t know what bothered me most; the font, the words or the fact that it’s annoyingly true. Everything about it grated on me more than the sugary sweetness of the food it claimed to provide.

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Update: I drafted this post in September 2021, however in June 2022 the van disappeared altogether. I assumed it was at local festival but it never came back and I haven’t seen the van since. No idea what has happened but the problem of the Pudding Van seems to have sorted itself!

I’m totally putting it down to my ability to moan, that or my top-notch judgemental stares out the window.

(And as for why I’m not posting this until now…well, I forgot I’d written it.)

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Writing Retreat in the New Forest *VIDEO*

Video of my recent five-day break in the New Forest, England. I went out specifically to focus on writing and while it didn’t quite turn out entirely as I’d hoped, I had a very relaxed time in beautiful surroundings.

Until the next time!

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“Cleaning-Up the Microwave” (a Chemical Fume-Induced Song)

From the makers of That’s When the Cleaning Fumes Got to Me, I present me, cleaning the microwave with equally questionable methods.

If it’s not the fact I forgot to turn the mircowave off (apparently it’s not safe), it’s the realisation afterwards of the potential effects those fumes were having on me.

But still, at least the microwave is clean now.

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