Five Signs It’s Finally Summertime

Sun’s Out, Washing’s Out

It’s the hallmark of adulthood: you wake up on a sunny day and you think ‘ooh, I can change the bedsheets today and get them dry by tonight. How lovely.’

Sun’s Out, Pegs Out

You can finally wear your fab new Zara skirt you bought months ago in anticipation of heat. You know, the one your tried to wear with tights and boots in the March snow. 🙄

Sun’s out, Bike’s Out

The worst bit of winter (other than relentless illness) is having to wrestle kids in to car seats whilst your bum is sticking out of the car door getting rained on and your feet are in a puddle (‘’). Now it’s sunny, you can pop them on their bikes and wheel around gleefully.

Sun’s out, you’re out

You’re in the park at 8.50am and playing in the garden til 8.50pm. It’s remarkable how less annoying your own children are when they’re surrounded by horizons

And finally…

Now I’ve dug out the paddling pool, put away jumpers and got the kids in shorts, it’s almost guaranteed to start raining. Or snowing. Sorry.

Abortion: the upcoming referendum.

Abortion has never affected me. It’s an option I was dimly aware of. It’s a privilege- and a sign of my privilege- that abortion is just an obvious, legitimate, legal option for a woman who is pregnant and doesn’t want to be. From what I’ve gleaned, it’s an uncomfortable and unsettling procedure. That’s as far as my thinking had ever gone on it.

Then, mostly through social media, I became aware of the upcoming referendum in Ireland. There will be a vote on whether they should repeal the eight amendment. At the moment, that amendment puts the rights of the embryo or foetus equal to the rights of the mother. That means abortion is illegal in Ireland. The vote is either Yes- get rid of this amendment and decriminalise abortion or No- keep it as it is.

If you live in Ireland and become pregnant but don’t want to be then your only two legal options are to continue with the pregnancy or travel to the UK for a termination. One other option is to take a safe but illegal abortion pill- an option which carries the risk of a 14 year prison sentence.

It saddens and appals me that women anywhere -but especially so close to home- are not free to do as they please with their lives and bodies. It infuriates me that wealthy women have the option to travel for an abortion but those with less resources don’t. It angers me that dicey science, religion and politics are used to justify something that disempowers women. But it motivates me to stand up and fight with and for my sisters.

As an English woman who will be completely unaffected by the outcome of the referendum I am completely unqualified to speak about this other than I will do whatever I can to support a woman’s right to choose

I don’t have to agree with all women’s choices but I will empower her, however I can, to make the best choices for her.

If a woman happens to believe that abortion is terrible she should go right ahead and keep any unwanted pregnancies she may have- that’s her choice and she’s free to make it.

Fine for her, not for everyone.

If a woman happens to believe that abortion is her best option that she should be able to go right ahead and have a termination- that’s her choice and she should be free to make it.

Fine for her, not for everyone.

The sisterhood -that vast and powerful and wonderful network of complicated and kind women- accepts all thoughts and walks. By repealing the eighth- by voting YES to women having the right to their own bodies- we are allowing women two options: to have an abortion or not. Everyone can still do what’s right for them.

Want to support your sisters? Here’s how.

If you don’t want to offer financial support, just raising awareness is helpful. Start conversations.

I also recommend reading some of the incredible stories on @InHerIrishShoes on Twitter

If the religious side of it interests you, then this podcast is about a large group of religious leaders from all backgrounds who formed a network to enable women to get access to abortions in America. They discuss why they felt it was their religious duty to help: listen to it online here

Unless you are an Irish citizen you cannot donate to the Yes campaign.

Here are some other options for supporting the campaign.

Buy a Black and Beech Yes necklace for £20 and all profits (£10) will go to the Together for Yes campaign.

Crowdfund a person’s travel home to vote:

Donate to the Abortion Support Network

Whichever side you fall on, I support you with whatever decision you make. Let’s enable everyone to make the right decision for them by repealing the eight amendment.

For more information, please follow these links:

Tat ‘n’ TV: stuff I’m loving

My mega 583 followers on Instagram mean that I’m basically an influencer and media dahling and will soon be hashtag spon by some mega cool* brands. But for now: here’s my likes of the month. For free.

*who says ‘cool’ still? Who says ‘mega’?!


Fast, funny and makes some excellent points about race. Love it. Tracee Ellis Ross is hypnotic in it: I dream of her character’s wardrobe (because I’m deep, y’all)

On Now TV

Topshop Mom Jeans

Best. Jeans. Ever. Apart from the fact I drank too much beer on my holidays and now they don’t fit… #worthit

Gressenhall Workhouse and Farm

A whole day out. It’s £11 to get in but free for teachers if you bring your staff badge and you can buy and annual pass for £20 which gets you in to all Norfolk museums. Read more about it here. Told you I was ‘mega cool’.

In the Heart of the Sea

Big boats. Monstrous sea animals. Survival story. Not for everyone but I bleddy loved it

Faves to Follow: Insta / Online


Does My Bum Look 40?

Make up

The Small Things Blog


Together for Yes

Follow on Insta for updates about the Ireland referendum on abortion

Laura Mercier lipstick

Matte. Stays on for ages. Loads of shades and all look fabulous.



Twenty minutes-ish. True crimes. Addictive. Start with episode one. Download or listen online.

13 Stages of a Girls’ Weekend Away

Heavy traffic on the WhatsApp

Between the dental appointments, school trips, husbands’ work, grandparent availability and alignment of the stars it has got to take at least six months to find a date you can all go. You then need to message each other a steady stream of weather updates and countdowns.

Classic content

Location location location

Where does the local airport fly to? Which is the warmest destination? Done!

Sunshine? I’m in!


‘I can’t believe we are here!’

‘It’s actually sunny!’

‘I can’t believe we are ACTUALLY here!’

Wild abandon

Beer. Wine. Beer. Wine. Beer. Local food. Beer. Karaoke. Suddenly it’s 3am.

See how the day progressed?


You’ve slept until 8am. You could sleep for another six hours but is that wasting valuable kid-free time? Or should you make the most of the lay-in? But what if it’s sunny and you could be tanning outside a cafe somewhere? But what about sleep? Oh god!

Cultural Repentance

You feel like you should do something cultural as you are a grown up and Trip Advisor says the modern art museum is ‘unmissable’. Happily, art galleries are the perfect place to be hungover: quiet, empty and air conditioned.

I am an adult and I enjoy art.

Hair of dog

Someone, at some point, usually around lunchtime, will say ‘I think I’m probably ready for a beer…’

Time flies

How is it 5pm already? Let’s just have one more round then…wait! What? How is it 10pm all of a sudden?!

That spiralled quickly


You haven’t brushed your hair since Wednesday. You’re sunburnt. You’ve eaten nothing except calamari. You’ve staved off scurvy purely by eating the lemon out of your sangria. Your bowel movements are in havoc. Your mental well-being is at the top of its game, though.


Late night revelations

‘I’ve known you ten years and I NEVER knew you use a flannel! Who uses a FLANNEL?!’

Morose wind-down

It’s the last night. Someone points on ’90s ballads on Spotify. You snuggle in for the last few hours of chitchat and laughter. Man, you’ve had a good time. Can you believe you have to go home tomorrow?

Airport regret

You should’ve gone to bed six hours before you did: not three hours before your flight. You’re broken and yet you’ve got to somehow navigate security and passport control. Your brain is mush. You’re never drinking again.


Your kids are nonplussed with your return. You eat all the vegetables in the salad drawer. You get on the WhatsApp to tell everyone you love them and you miss them and ask them how their calendars are looking for October half term.