My husband and I are meant for each other. Together we make an incredibly good team. And this is because we are completely different.

I am organized, thorough and tenacious. He is untidy, forgetful and unfocused. On the other side, I’m impulsive, passionate and a bit flighty. He is reflective,  a perfectionist and meticulous.

We balance each other, he makes me slow down when I’m at full gallop and I encourage him when he’s feeling indecisive. And it has been like that for the last 13 years.

Being different has lots of advantages when managing a household. He’s the best bathroom cleaner and I’m amazing at arranging meals. 

But, we have a problem with our stuff. I’m a chartered member of the just-enough-rubbish brigade and my husband has a serious case of Diogenes Syndrome, or better known as let's-keep-it-just-in-case disease.

Cauliflower, Pistachio and Wild Mushrooms Soup

Something I have always wanted to do is go camping. 

I never went on a camping trip when I was a child, and since then I have wanted to put that idea into fruition. This is why ages ago I gave a camping tent to my husband for his birthday. A camping tent we sold brand new when we left Spain, as we never used it. Failed present. Eek.

Since I live in the South West I have been giving the idea of camping more thought. But every time I proposed it, the never-ending list of stuff to buy and prepare ended up deflating us. Camping tent, sleeping bags and rugs, rucksacks, lanterns, air pump, water jugs, thermos, stove, matches, plates & bowls, folding table and chairs, compass, whistle, candles… the camping gear needed to survive out in the open is never ending. Not to mention all the hassle of packing up, setting up, dismantling and packing up again with 2 toddlers running around and rummaging in the other camper’s picnic baskets. Hey Yogi! Yes, Boo Boo? Just by imagining the picture I start to feel stressed.

Dark Chocolate Crinkle Cookies

Things won’t change unless we change them. Sometimes it is so tempting not to get into trouble and leave things that are unfair, as they are. Sometimes we even do ourselves a disservice as long as we stay in our comfort zone. A full-of-rubbish comfort zone. Warm and well known rubbish that pushes us down. “Not that bad” rubbish that don’t allow us to breath. Stinking rubbish we have got so used to that it seems better to stay there just in case we get brand new rubbish that is even worse. The status quo is so much easier to deal with, we know it and are used to it – it is the easy option.

Sometimes we are so covered by rubbish we are not even able to see above it, believing this is the only way to be.

Meringued Milk

Is the glass half full or half empty?

The optimist says the glass is half full.

The pessimist says the glass is half empty.

The realist says the glass contains half the required amount of liquid for it not to overflow.

Luscious Avocado Cheesecake

This week I have made a mistake. You know when you do something so absolutely silly that you cannot believe you have really done it?

That’s me. I normally do silly things. But they are the kind of things you laugh about. Like not coming in to work on Friday because someone told you to have a lovely weekend the previous evening. Or putting sun cream in my toothbrush. Or eating a spider.

I wish that was the case – but not this time.

Gazpacho Andaluz - Chilled Tomato Soup

Summer is just around the corner. This corner the next street. Maybe a couple of streets ahead. Just a few miles driving from here.

Anyway, I really love summer. It is my favourite DAY of the year.

Where has the summer gone? It is rainy, windy and cold.

But I have started my very own battle against bad weather. Tank top and flip-flops on. Beach boys out loud. Dinner on the patio.

Why over this year every month seems to be the wettest since records began?

Gorgonzola Cheese, Pear and Basil Macaroni

Being sporty is not easy. No matter how addictive it could be and how well you feel afterwards. It is easy to be persuaded by your lazy side and surrender to the charms of a luscious millionaire shortbread.

And my lazy side can be stunningly persuading.

This I why I have decided to seek some help and professional advice. And I have joined a boot camp. Well, I haven’t joined it yet, but I have gone to two “taster sessions” encouraged for picture of those American camps, where a well-built ex-military yells without an iota of compassion to a flock of fleshy people sweating and asking for more.

What a disappointment.