Entwined-A Poem For My Grandparents

Published September 25, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

This a poem that I wrote for my grandparents. They inspired me to hold out for true love because living the rest of your life with your soul mate and building a family sounds like heaven to me. I’m glad I waited and now am married to my soul mate and we have started our family. Enjoy!

 

Entwined

There is a place for you

there is a place for me.

We have always belonged

in each other’s hearts

we beat

strong

free.

 

Forever is just a day

with birds singing a soulful tune

of life and love

reminding us that the darkness

can always be washed away

with hope,

faith.

 

Since time immemorial

we have been entwined

side by side, hand in hand,

our roots in the soft summer-warmed earth

build trees that soar high and strong

growing mother nature’s fruit and beauty,

love.

 

Do not worry my love, my dear

for God knows us well.

How we love, how we fear

how we will never bid farewell,

no, never

my dear

I promise.

 

I promise.

 

 

 

 

Build-A-Bear; A Not-So-Special Experience

Published September 22, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

Yesterday while we were in town on a little family day out, we thought it would be a good idea to have a look in Build-A-Bear and treat Cabbit to a cuddly. In a way I wish I had asked for a discount as the experience was far from “magical”.

I have only made a Build-A-Bear (bunny) once and that was with my husband. He insisted on treating me, as he knows how much I love bunnies. The member of staff that made my bunny was extremely cheery and happy, and even made me kiss the little heart they put inside her. In short they treated me like I was a child, and I fully encouraged this as I’m a big child at heart and thought this experience was actually very warm and loving. When we went into Build-A-Bear yesterday with our son, we did not receive the same experience.

Now, I know my son is only 8 months old, but that didn’t stop us wanting him to experience making his first Build-A-Bear toy. If he doesn’t remember it, we will. We love doing silly sentimental things like this, for example we all went to Wembley Drum centre the other day to see what Cabbit made of the drums; the result? He loved it! And we have the happy memories to remind us if we are ever having a bad day. But our Build-A-Bear experience…

As we skipped into the shop we realised that they were selling Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! It was perfect; we decided to go with Raphael as he is a gorgeous dark green and has a happy face (a little odd as he’s the ‘moody’ turtle my husband keeps reminding me). Some of the others like Donatello had very demonic looking faces or sickly shades of green for their skin. Which I feel would be more than enough to give any child nightmares. As we were doing this I was wondering why the shop was so empty, I could only see one member of staff who asked us if we needed help and quickly ushered us to the stuffing area and palmed us off on another member of staff. There sat a young man who looked like he was in his own personal hell. I couldn’t blame him; the music in Build-A-Bear is deafeningly loud and they were playing songs from the Chipmunk movies. But still, I thought he could slap on a smile as we had our son with us. After he began stuffing Raphael we discovered that he was new and he kept apologizing for being slow. Perfectly acceptable I thought, as I know how hard it can be being new and getting used to how to do your job. This didn’t bother me in the slightest. What bothered me was the female staff that suddenly appeared with friends from outside of work and started doing their make-up in the mirrors and bitching about boyfriends loudly despite the fact there were customers in the shop! They couldn’t have cared less about their jobs. Now, I know how stressful and annoying retail work can be, but I never ever did things like put on make-up or play on my phone while working. It’s just unprofessional. Not to mention outright rude. You are PAID to do a job, so do it! With customer intense roles (especially those that deal more directly with children) like Build-A-Bear you have to be happy and professional. They are offering an experience to children helping them take part in the making of their toy, their best friend as they like to call it. These people did not do this. I don’t know if it would have been different if Cabbit was a bit older (and therefore obviously a bit more engaged with the process), but I doubt it. Besides, even if it was just me and my husband we should still get the same treatment as a child, no matter how embarrassing it is. We experienced it last time, so what’s changed?

After Raphael was stuffed we were handed over to one of the girls who had been doing their make-up who was also half asleep and half-arsed with us. My husband kindly asked if there were any extras we could purchase like Raphael’s weapons. The girl, who obviously wasn’t really paying attention pointed to something non-related and rolled her eyes. So my husband politely corrected her and tried again. She proceeded to “hmmm” and “ahhh” for an eternity until she finally said, with much effort “I suppose I can look in the back for you…” translation “I really couldn’t care less, I really don’t want to look for you” So what did we do? Of course we made her look. This was pointless really as she had no idea what she was looking for and just came back grumpier. We decided to quickly pay and retreat before being disappointed further. However the same girl managed to short-change my husband (who caught her out and requested his correct change) and then spent an inordinate amount of time faffing about ‘attempting’ to open the till, which culminated in her very begrudgingly asking her supervisor for assistance. Luckily for us Cabbit was far more interested in trying to chew his handle bar on the buggy than looking around and enjoying the experience. The only thing that seemed to fascinate him was the machine full of stuffing that kept turning. Oh, and Raphael’s face. Every time he sees him now, he lights up and smiles. Totally cute!

Overall, would I go back to Build-A-Bear Kingston? Maybe. Not sure. I know that I will have to go at one point when Cabbit is old enough but definitely to a different branch. The branch in question is in the Bentall’s Centre, in Kingston-Upon-Thames.

I’m off to kick my husband’s butt at Injustice: Gods Among us. I love Harley Quinn! Finish him! Oh wait that’s Mortal Kombat, oh well same company.

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So…I got an eyebrow piercing! Also I have a bit of a rant!

Published September 22, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

Yes dear lovely readers, that’s right. I got my eyebrow pierced yesterday! It’s something I have wanted for quite a while, why? You might be asking. Well, because it’s my body and I can do what I like with it *sticks out tongue* speaking of which, I am thinking of getting a tongue piercing. Though I don’t blame you for questioning my decision, a lot of people are dubious of facial piercings…no wait, a lot of people are dubious of any decision made by someone else. Let the rant begin…

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Since I have been with my husband I have become accustomed to the odd glances and stares. You see, my husband has an electric blue (when we can afford to bleach and dye it) mohican, tattoos, two eyebrow piercings and one lip ring. I think he looks gorgeous! But there are small-minded people out there that think they have the right to ask, “Why do you have that in your face?” or “Why do you go round looking like that?” I mean really? Do we still live in such a prudish uptight society that we feel the need to question other people’s appearance? Oh …of course we do because everyday people question others on religion, sexuality, career choice, basically our lifestyle choices. Why? Didn’t curiosity kill the cat? Or is it that we just don’t like anything different to what we approve as “normal?” Are we THAT insecure in ourselves that anything outside of the box or even slightly different is seen as a threat to us?

In theory I believe it’s because we don’t understand why people chose to cover their bodies in artwork or have brightly coloured hair. We immediately take offence to it because it’s something we as a person would never do. Everyone has their own opinions to what is “normal” to them. Normal to me is tattoos, piercings and purple hair. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I do it for me, not for anyone else or to be socially accepted by any label. I’m only going to have one life so I choose to live it my way with my rules. Now, if I was the Queen I would bring world peace (inner hippy) and doughnuts to all!

I hope that one day we will live in a world where we don’t feel the need to question every little thing someone else does or criticise others for their lifestyle choice. Why are humans so controlling? What a waste of life! Worrying about why someone else has chosen a certain way to live their life. Will we ever start living again? If you are reading this and you are one of those people (though we can all be found guilty of judging others) then I ask you to stop wasting your time being negative towards others who don’t care about whether you think their lifestyle choice is right or wrong. You are not the Queen of Sheba! Go live your own life, I beg you! Enjoy it! Life is short and quick, it has a nasty habit of being cruelly snatched away from us. LIVE!

While I wait for the human race to grow a pair, I am going to go eat a doughnut!

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Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy By Helen Fielding-Book Review

Published September 20, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

When news reached my bunny lop ears that there was going to be a new Bridget Jones book out, I was more than ecstatic. I am an enormous Bridgett Jones fan! Like most women, I feel I can relate to her though all the drama that comes with dating and being labelled a spinster. She was my go-to friend when I needed a giggle after a bad date, her and Ben & Jerry’s were my saviours throughout my dating life. A girl needs friends like that when venturing out on the lonely hearts boat.

I heard a lot of mixed reviews about this book before I even got a copy in my paws. Unfortunately, most of it was bad. The only thing I knew about it for certain *SPOILER ALERT!* was that Mark Darcy was dead. Such a massive disappointment, I did feel so badly let down like any hard-core fan would. Bridget had spent the past two books lusting after Mark and trying to keep him, why would Fielding go and kill the main love interest! It’s ludicrous! But putting that aside I decided to at least give it a go. Besides, I had decided already that if it was as bad as it was meant to be, I would simply make up my own happy ending. Where Mark Darcy lives! I do love happy endings.

We find Bridget in her fifties and struggling to raise two children without her beloved Mr Darcy. Between scoffing bags of grated cheese in her face, we witness Bridget take to twitter where she finds herself re-entering the dating world with a toy boy and having important meetings for her script which will hopefully become a big upcoming blockbuster.

Bridget has come a long way from what we used to know her as, but that can be expected with age, marriage, death and children. It is bound to change anyone. She is still obsessed with her weight and trying to maintain some sort of normality to her life. There is still very much here the essence of Bridget Jones that Fielding has managed to retain; it is just missing a huge part of what we loved about Miss Jones’ world, Mark Darcy.

Overall the writing is commendable although not as good as the past two books, but makes for light reading. However I felt like at times I was just reading a completely different book, with nothing to do with Bridget Jones. I can appreciate knowing what happens after she gets married etc. but in a way feel that it should have been left alone or had Mark Darcy alive. I would have loved to have read about how Bridget dealt with married life, I felt as a fan it was owed to us to finally hear more of Bridget and Mark. Reading about Bridget dealing with everything alone was depressing, realistic as sometimes death can take away the ones you love, but not necessary. It felt like we weren’t allowed our happy ending were everyone skips off into the sunset. We were served a cold unpleasant dish of reality that we all want to escape from when reading a book. I’m sorry to say but you let us down Fielding, badly.

All in all I would say if you are a die-hard Bridget Jones fan, best forget this book was ever made. It’s just not the same without Mr Darcy. Why would you want anything less?

Think I will go and eat a tub of Ben & Jerry’s to stifle my disappointment.

Nothing quite beats that warm cosy feeling of being home

Published September 18, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

Apologies dear readers for the lack of posts of late, I have ‘technically’ been away on a mini holiday. My birthday was last week and I thought it was the perfect excuse for me and the family to take some much-needed time out in Devon. Lucky for me, this happens to be where I grew up so can also see my family while holidaying. *Squeals*

Nothing beats where you grew up, being home and drinking in that sweet smell of comfort and love that brings a wiggle to your tail. I do miss being in Devon, the endless land of green, chips by the sea and more cows and sheep than there are people. It’s a humble place to grow up which is why I feel so privileged to have spent my childhood days in The Shire.

Each day we spent on our mini holiday was bursting with activity! We went to Ilfracombe and had BBQ pulled pork hot dogs with a stunning view of the sea. Once we were stuffed to satisfaction, we went to the local arcade for amusement. I do love arcades. Hours of fun for pennies! After, we wandered round the little souvenir shops and admired the statute of the pregnant woman who overlooked the sea (Verity). A very interesting sculpture, on one side of her you could see her insides, flesh, bone and even the baby in her womb. On the other side, she was naked, but completely normal. It fascinated me.

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The following day, hubby, son and I went to Atlantic Village to board a pirate ship and to do some much-needed retail therapy. After, we stopped by the local supermarket for ingredients to cook spaghetti bolognaise for everyone, my favourite dish. I like to do as much as I can to help out while I stay at home, so hubby and I offer to cook and wash up. Only polite I think.

A few days later we were off to one of my favourite places in the whole wide world, Combe Martin Wildlife and Dinosaur Park. I truly only ever have fond memories of this amazing place. I loved seeing the dinosaurs as a kid, I would pretend I was in Jurassic Park and they were chasing me, even when we driving home, I played out the classic t-rex car chase scene. How could I not do that? It was asking to be done!

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On my birthday my age finally started to show and gave me an excruciatingly bad back. But I was determined to not stay in bed all day and to enjoy the fresh sea air with my little family. We loaded the car up with essentials and hit Woolacombe beach, another childhood favourite of mine. After paying an outrageous parking fee to park up, we took a slow stroll to the beach. It’s times like these that I love wearing my Doc Martens as the walk down to the beach was steep and our boots gave us that extra grip needed to help us steady ourselves down. Once onto the soft golden sand of the beach we headed towards the sea to let Cabbit have his first ever splash in the ocean. Of course as expected, he hated it, far too cold for his liking. Luckily for us, further inward there were some tiny paddling pools that were a lot warmer for Cabbit’s feet. We spent a good while all three of us just splashing about and enjoying the gorgeous weather. We then headed towards the shops where we got ice-cream! There was a funny moment when Cabbit grabbed his Father’s ice-cream when he wasn’t looking and stole a lick, well, he buried his face in his Father’s ice-cream. He was more than satisfied with his sneaky skills the cheeky monkey. For my birthday dinner we all went out with my parents to steak night and had a good natter before heading back to the house for cake! All in all, a perfect birthday, despite my back being the old woman that it is.

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The last week we spent in Devon was very rocky as I got ridiculously ill and could not stop throwing up; I think I will spare you the details. But I got to have a mother/daughter day before I left which I have needed for ages! I got my hair cut and we did a bit of shopping before having a lovely little lunch at Costa. It’s important I get to spend time with my parents; living far from home does have its disadvantages. I can’t pop round for a cup of tea and a chat while they play with Cabbit. I have to wait weeks, sometimes months and I will never know when I next see them. But I am so grateful that they are there, at the end of the phone if I ever need someone to talk to. It’s hard living away from family but sometimes that’s just the way it has to be.

Now we are home we are ALL under the weather, poor little Cabbit has it the worst but still manages to keep a big smile on his face. How the hell does he do that? The stuff that has been coming out of his backside…don’t worry, I won’t put you off your tea, I will leave it there dear readers.

To Live By The Sea

Published September 16, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

All I need is to live by the sea

to wake up to the waves crashing at my door,

sail out on a piece of driftwood,

bid good morning to the sun with open arms

I would wander down the village road,

sit outside the local pub whose landlord has a small obsession

with penguins and engage in small conversation before

drinking a sweet cider straight from the bottle

so the wind can hoot a musical tune through its neck

I would have ice cream for lunch

not one scoop but two

the owner would know me well for

I would mmmm and ahhh at the mass variety

before settling with the usual with a big grin on my face

I would sit in a field picking daisies

to make myself a delicate chain

piercing their necks with my thumb

to slowly sew them together

when the sky is that mixture of dark blues and reds

I would pick up shells dusting them off,

place into my pocket to keep

for the vacant window sill at home

I would waddle to the shore

dip my toes in the wet sand, the chilling sensation

will make me smile and think of you

I would use my finger to spell my name out

leaving the sand rooted under my nails to remind me

what I have done

I would climb the shattered rocks, losing grip now and then

thanks to my bare wet feet

I would prod the rock pools with a twig to watch the ripples

before the day is done

I would find the bench overlooking the sea,

where I meet you

stab my chips with a small wooden fork

singing to myself

“Oh I do like to live beside the Seaside”

By Emma Jane Mackay

This Starry Night-Based on Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”

Published August 26, 2014 by masonlovesdoughnuts

Below
the village sleeps
oblivious,
unaware that tonight
is a Starry Night

the creature
that was once a Prince
watches from the tower
cursing the stars that dance
to the moon’s harp
swirls of ball gowns and suits
whirl before him
the cigar smoke strangles his throat,
his ears drown in laughter,
struggling to breathe he looks up and sees
her face, the moment
he lost all sanity

the townspeople say                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            he is different                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      his skin has yet to feel                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       the warm presence of sunlight

his pointed teeth                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          lusting after bare necks                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     his features unsightly                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            a mass of melted flesh

he is not like the others                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  they call him strange, peculiar, awkward                                                                                                                                                                                                                      he is alone                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         only his past to taunt him

 a whisper in the night                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       an owl’s cry                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            a wolf’s howl                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       the creature that was once a Prince                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  is night itself                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    attending a masquerade

the sky recoils                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               hiding in fear                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  tonight is a starry night                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     he buckles to the floor                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       looks up and sees his madness                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   reaching up his hands in surrender                                                                                                                                                                                                                               he screams

 

snight

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