Sunday always has such a personal vibe about it. And I decided to let go of all that has no value to me. Unfortunately, most things that did, have since been stolen from my flat in Blackpool. For months it broke my heart how anyone could do this to me – but you either get on with it, or fester on the bad intent. Either way it is in the past and that is where it stays. I am over it and I only have me to blame for being too busy to realise it was happening over a long period of time. I have learned a tough lesson and it will not happen again in a hurry.

Blackpool is like anywhere else in that you move to a new area and you do not know anybody. Blank pages – and it takes time to fill those pages. The chapters begin and you live through your own book. However, I don’t have time to write that much, so my book is the colourful things that really do happen to us each day. We live. We learn. We teach. We give thanks. We grow. 

I am hugely sensitive; particularly if someone faults my parenting or my pets welfare. That is a big no for me. So, watch it! Cos I will have you in a court room before you know it. Apart from that, I can deal with most stuff. I am an adult and if something offends me it is probably because I glanced at it or gave that person or people too much of my precious time. So, dealing with how my hours pass is a big obstacle for me that I am doing well at these days. Because recent events have shown us we have support and love around us from people who have been about for many years. And as we expand our circles we can often overlook the most ‘significant others’ in our hearts who really do want the best. Less is More.

Getting back to letting go of mess. I am transitional once more. I have stockpiled a lot of personal junk – deciding my money works better not to buy nice things for ‘me’ in favour of cheaper stuff as when you were repeatedly robbed, you pause before you spend. I wear my clothes hard. I am on my knees scrubbing. Bleaching. Washing, baking, cooking, and having the pets jumping on us. Therefore, I do need to remind myself more than often to throw things away when they are tatty … despite … loving ragged.

I have opened the doors to guests here, the place is spotless, checked them into their rooms, felt a sense of accomplishment. That is until, I happen to look in a mirror (I do not have one in the flat). I see a woman who is covered in bits of food, sometimes seaweed and sand, wax, paint, cleaning supplies and pet fluff, with un-brushed hair and sometimes dirty teeth. Yes. You work seven days a week during high season. You fall into bed and you get out of it again. And that dirty bitch is no less than ME! Ha! Your time is service. I see other hoteliers looking pristine. I used to wonder how they did it, then decided not to give a shit as I am what I am. That was until I made the decision to put out my clothes the night before. Got a towel by the shower, with my toiletries ready to wash and set the alarm an hour earlier. Remember, I have the pets to feed and care for before we start to cook breakfast for sometimes 25 plus people.

I do have help. I am blessed. But still, I am constantly at logger heads with my own routine. So today I am not holding what I like. I am keeping what I plan to wear in the next six months, which covers most weather. I am letting go of what holds me back. Fabric makes dust. I don’t have a wardrobe here. Instead, two clothes rails and they do make dust! Where I am going has a gorgeous big bespoke hand-crafted triple pine wardrobe that’s painted in a creamy colour. My two rails of clothes won’t fit in it. I have visions of this stunning piece of sustainable furniture being accompanied by a clothes rail rammed into a convenient gap in the apartment and it spoils our new bedroom completely. Then I will be flustering about where to put everything that I don’t really use or need but have become attached towards. Back to square one. So, I am being ruthless with me today and letting much of it go to allow for ‘the new’ with less baggage.

I have spent much of my live living in small spaces. And when I visit people with big spaces, I don’t envy them because all I see is more work. More clutter. More responsibility.

Travel light and live for adventure. If you are not going to use the rooms then why buy space. It is just a statement. That said my darlings, Belleva House is a hotel. A place that will go to work with us. Somewhere that yes we will run around at night and the pets will explore, but the apartment is where we snuggle and slumber.

But then, there is our arty stuff, the crafting. Wax, mica powders, mannequins, pans and brushes. Sigh … they shall have to stay. Where would our lives be without our toys for progress in our heart journeys.

Photo with this blog is my big boy Ashley. Our kids never grow up they just get bigger. Every person needs a Mum type person in their life. This photo is about 5 years old. I since lost my doggy in it. He was 21 and died in my arms. Never got over it and never want to. I love you Foley.

Now am going to tackle a huge clean washing pile in the bathroom that I have walked past so often I forgot it wasn’t a permanent fixture.

Namaste!

Tiff. X