Home Sweet Home #BEDN 17

I have spent the last 5 years saving up for a deposit to buy a house.

It turns out houses are expensive.

And that if you don't have a very big wage, banks don't want to lend you very much money.

And I'm a bit snobby and I don't want to buy any old dump. There are somethings that I just don't want to compromise on.

 

I am happy though, to buy a fixer-upper. I would love to put my on stamp on place and turn a house into a home.

 

Home to me means safety. It means cosy. It means refuge. It means family and friends and fun.

A home should be inviting. It should be the sort of place with lots of comfy seating and good food.

I want to create my home. To build it up over time. I can't deny I quite like IKEA but I don't want to fill my home with it. I want to curate it, a bit of furniture from here, a painting from there, a bookcase full of charity shop finds. A hand-knitted blanket in every room, just incase someone gets chilly.

I think the best homes are homes that are lived in.

Not prestine. Not beige. Not boring.

You go in and you see washing up and piles of magazines and the throw on the sofa is wonky and there's a mug in the side.

I'm not saying I want to live in a messy house. But I like to know that people are using and enjoying their home, not spending all their time tidying and straightening it and making it presentable. This probably works really well for some people, but for me, keeping my house to that standard would make it just that. A house.

 

I want a home.

I want a home I can feel safe in,

I can feel happy in.

That I can share with the people I love.

I'm not sure when I'll get it.

But I will.

 

Love Charlotte xx

Bonfire Night #BEDN 5

Sorry that the below post is late. When I signed up for #BEDN I didn't realise I was going to get struck down by a rotten snotty bug and spend two days off work asleep. But even though I haven't blogged everyday, I still want to make an attempt at each topic, so here we go!

Bonfire night.

 

I like fireworks. I was about to say love fireworks but I'm not sure my feelings are that strong. Yes they are pretty and enjoyable but I'm not sure I would be devastated never to see them again. That being said, I do enjoy them a lot.

 

This year, bonfire night fell on a Thursday. A school night so the big local display wasn't actually on the day but from my poorly bed I could hear lots of people letting off their own fireworks. At one point I tried to look out of the window for them but I couldn't see a thing, so I imagined them instead in my sudafed, half dreamy state.

 

When I was little we used to get those nice garden fireworks. You know, fountains and Catherine wheels and sparklers. Not those big ones. Just a nice little display that we could all bundle up and enjoy. Nothing too crazy.

 

 

I know you all know this, but fireworks are dangerous and you need to play safe. And when I say play, I mean DO NOT PLAY AROUND THESE ARE SERIOUS EXPLOSIVES THAT CAN HURT.

 

 

So, back to when I was younger. I'm not sure how young but it was late primary school I think so maybe about 9ish? Anyway, that year, one of my uncles hosted a bonfire night party. It was a big family gathering with everyone getting together and having a good time.

The two things I can remember from that party were there was a jelly in the shape of a rabbit and my dad and I got hit by a firework. I'm not 100% sure about the rabbit jelly.

There had been several fireworks up to this point, but he had saved the biggest and bestest one for last. I decided I wanted to see it. My dad bundled me up and we stood next to house as my uncle carefully set up the firework at the end of the garden.

 

I had my hands over my ears.

My dad had his hands over my hands.

The firework was lit.

The firework fell.

The firework flew.

The firework hit us.

 

 

Next thing I know is all my aunties and my mum and everyone is pouring jugs of water over my head. And then someone decides that is impractical and I am taken upstairs to have my head shoved under the shower. It hurt. I think it was a power shower. I'm not sure.

 

I don't know what happened to my dad. I've never really asked. I think he got smacked up against the wall but he seemed to be okay when he drove us back home early from the party. I think we had borrowed a blanket because I was shivering from all the cold water.

 

My uncle was distraught apparently. But it wasn't his fault. He is a sensible, grown up man who was just trying to have a good time with his family. He did everything properly. It was one of those things. And I still enjoy fireworks. Especially those big ones that light up the sky. But I'll probably just stick to sparklers in my own garden and leave the big ones to the professionals in the park. Not even because I am scared. I'm not. It's just less hassle.

 

Love Charlotte x

The Neutral Zone (Blogmas Day 11)

Online dating is a big thing nowadays. I know quite a few people who met their other halves over the old tinternet, whether that is an actual dating site or Facebook. Heck, Twitter even played a small part in my relationship starting up.

I appreciate that with longer working hours and busy schedules, meeting people can be tricky. Or if you have interests that aren't going out it can be difficult to know where to meet someone. Going online means you can find someone like minded who shares your tastes.

 

If you do find someone you like the look of, for goodness sake keep your wits about you.

Meet them somewhere neutral like a local pub. But maybe not your local pub, just incase.

Tell your friends where you are going. I would even suggest inviting them along. Not to the date obviously but get them to sit nearby so that if you need a get out they can come over and rescue you.

Don't invite them to your house.

You don't know who they are or if they are crazy.

They probably aren't, but what if they are?

If you are going to invite them round maybe get a large friend to hang about?

 

Call me paranoid but I up just think you should get to know someone first before you invite them around.

Maybe I am paranoid.

Maybe I have trust issues.

Or maybe I am just old fashioned.

 

I don't know, all I know is my boy used to have to meet me about three streets away. Then one street away. Then outside my house but he had to wait in the car.

You might think being so strange would have driven him away but he still turns up and he is actually allowed in my house now and we are jolly happy.

 

It is unlikely the person who inspired this post will read it, but if you do, I only have your best interests T heart. I want you to be happy. And safe.

 

Love Charlotte xx