Tag: mental health

Chattering with Myself. Donald Trump. Media. Love. Life. All of it.

As I have become older, I realise that a lot of who I am is who I ‘have been’ and what I have or could become. We as humans are constantly evolving in such rapid times of change globally. Not just in terms of choice and decision-making, but also our climate is adapting to the solar world and the pain we inflict upon it. When the ice melts, we lose our land. It’s not fiction. It’s happening.

What is the point of world leaders attending eco summits to discuss how we can slow down the destruction of our planet while also endorsing war? War is a virus. Imagine how Earth must feel with all this hatred on her soil. And we do need change. But not in the likely places it would seem. We need to search statistically for where the greatest climate destruction derives from as a result of mankind, and then we must deal with it. It’s all there for those who are trusted in research. And sorry, but I don’t believe it’s cows. I have driven up the French Alps, spoken with the farmers, visited the little eateries amidst the abundance; the air was pure. On the other hand, if you looked at Earth from an aerial viewpoint and offset our fields against the holocaust and destruction in Palestine (for example), where would an alien being assume the climate is most affected? Come on, world, wake up!

But above all this talk of Earth, for appreciation of our own life force, a sense of self-value is imperative. As if we do not value our own time and resonance, we lose our core values in favor of trying to please the systems that may not be right for our mental well-being. There’s a thin line between loneliness and freedom, and if we spin too fast trying to resolve problems that don’t want a solution, we become depleted.

Sometimes addressing the simple things in life and having a sense of comfort in our immediate environment is more productive in the long term, simply because a happy spirit makes wiser decisions.

I think a big problem with the way the mechanics of human nature work is becoming a ‘people pleaser’ to the extent that ego and a sense of validation from strangers in large numbers become a cycle, to the point of worthlessness within one’s own self-esteem. And ego never has solved a problem. In fact, if we look right back through history, it’s one of our greatest downfalls.

Of recent weeks, I have gone from running two hospitality outlets single-handedly, where I was doing all my own laundry, cleaning, administration, and customer care. While also finding time for design projects and tending to all my pets. But I never felt ‘too busy’; I would have downtime, then bounce back up. As you may be aware from previous posts on here, for many years I have carried a burden of cowardice from the Hampstead Comedian, who for some reason has chiseled away at my life to the point of becoming rabid. I guess, with hard work, you can try to forget the terrors lurking in the background, and it’s true, hard work is so good for the soul. Though now things have slowed down for me while I plan ahead, I have reflected on my existence. It’s the season to soul search and not for the faint-hearted, as it is during these times we learn from our lessons/mistakes before taking the next leap. Adventures are things risk-takers go on, and they are mostly harrowing experiences. Peaks and troughs.

Though sitting at home scrolling on social media is not an adventure; it’s somebody else’s. Through our own experiences, we become nourished with wisdom that is of our own destiny and making. Throughout the years, I have enjoyed social media as it’s a lazy way to relax in our own space between work and home. For me, posting images from my phone of my hobbies and happy times was a joy. One of which many of us don’t participate in anymore.

And since Twitter (now X) was the point of the crappy situation where the Hampstead guy latched on with his other half, it was suggested to me that I go back there, block the situation, and get past the nasty stuff. As otherwise, me like many others who have experienced any type of violation such as stalking, baiting, and harassment can become silent – and this does not help the problem. Silence encourages it, as the goal of stalking is to create fear and worry.

The common day bully kicks off within the playground, where staff these days are trained more highly in catching it out before the group gatherings develop, as a result of the ring leader instigating hardship for the target. But also the workplace has such types who dwell in the suffering of others by means of psychology and baiting. Worst still, sexual connotation and hierarchy can be used to belittle the focus on the fixation. But again, such is dealt with more severely these days, and it’s good to learn that many businesses have or are preparing to make it mandatory for all staff members to take a course in the traits of bullying and how such behaviour destroys lives. Being aware and current does help those who suffer in silence. It’s good to talk, with empathy, about how life is really going for us, in safe surroundings.

Bullying isn’t a difference of opinion or a disagreement. It is not an argument or a viewpoint or a social media reaction. Bullying is a killer that is both cruel and cowardly. But to have such in your own home is unthinkable. More needs to be done with the deeds we cannot see. Where hackers who are highly skilled in tech choose a career with crime, as opposed to positive tech expansion. Probably due to the fact they get paid more.

I am speaking with people who tell me their own horror stories about this tech world we live in. Everything from online fraud to pinhole cameras found in sunbed rooms (for instance). AI is using women and kids to create porn videos/images. Apps that claim to keep our loved ones/children safe that instead are being used to follow us around without permission. Software running in the background of our PCs and phones. Nobody is safe from it. But I must be honest when I tell you that the majority of victims seem to be women of independence. Whereas physical and emotional abuse toward us, statistically derives from actual relationships past to present. The point being, a strong independent woman is not immune to being hacked and stalked to breaking point. God forbid.

When I rejoined the X platform, I was not really into politics. I have friends who are politicians from different parties. It’s about the authenticity of the individual. I believe if you become too fanatical about one specific party you end up being ignorant. It’s about balance. And that’s what a good leader should be: someone who has the common sense to hear both sides of the story, to read both sides of the coin. Otherwise, we are rejecting part of the nation that has different views. We must think logically to reach some kind of constructive outcome.

I think a lot of people in the UK are talking about American politics at the moment. I know my guests have discussed it with me in passing, in a jolly way (it’s tourism, I keep things light). And also the community here chatters about all the drama in the world. As for me, well, I have always liked Donald Trump. And when society makes us feel we are not able to speak positively of a person we admire, then we too fall under the bully spectrum. To not feel able to speak out about our likes, when indeed our current world thrives on the negative and the nastiness. The pile-on of political hatred and extremism right (and left) across the board. It’s not intelligent thinking at all. Small-minded people start civil wars that are so unnecessary. It’s blatantly obvious to those who sit on the fence of common sense, seeing the stirrers who are often hidden in fake pretty packages. Empty vessels make the most noise, and all that jazz...

I have many mixed race friends, and black music is the spirit of rhythm and dance. We all come in different shapes and sizes. Though in mixed societies, there’s not a real ‘white’ or ‘black’ skin. We’re many different shades and origins. And we can never truly know all our ancestors. I do believe ‘the woke’ thing has divided us. And it has caused political and cultural hatred. We must be careful that the actors in society do not use our principles to divide us. This can creep in with fake street rumors, hashtags, and misinformation spread across the web by ‘fake’ outlets. Basically, all types of gossiping. Sheep love gossip and bad actors.

We need to unite in our communities to promote kindness and support, ensuring everyone feels included. Otherwise, ego-driven power can strip away our uniqueness by creating division. This often distracts us from more serious issues like acts of war and premeditated riots. Where the vulnerable (sheep) are often caught up as chess pieces with absolutely no control of the outcome. Or in fact, often no idea what they are doing or the fundamental principles, in belief they are going to achieve a solution.

Moving on and importantly. I believe men and women need to get on. And as said before, many women are becoming less inclined to get to know the opposite sex for much of some of the above reasons. We can feel untrusting and cautious to the point of appearing defensive, when really most men are in need of our time and friendship. And nowadays, I hear the first thing either party may want to know about, is how your sexual organs perform — the size and capacity, the willingness to have sex on the first date. It’s hardly romance. And I wonder whether our younger generations even know what romance is? There’s so much porn available; is that their first perception of sex?

We need to put love back into our language. To flirt, fall in love, and be adventurous together. To make that one other person feel like a million dollars. To embrace all of the good things that life has for us by means of a sense of nurturing each other and going on silly dates. Or for those stuck in stagnant and dull routines, to rekindle your fires with one another and put the naughty back into bedtime. Even if that’s sharing ideas or a local pizza, it’s still togetherness. Little and often. Anything is effort. Though ‘stalking’ is not love. I may add at this point, as much as I love to write about romance, past attention from a nutter has never been less welcome. I have suffered great damage to my workplaces, car, garden and home.

Healthy loving that is consensual with two people who want to find peace and stability in their hearts is the answer to those who seek union. And with love we become better, healthier humans. We make wiser choices and we have less bad intention. Love is balance. When love becomes a wrangle, where there is turmoil and jealousy. We can only move forward and learn by our mistakes. Holding onto baggage is never the answer. And I wonder whether some of these people in the world who are spreading fear and hardship have ever loved at all. Or more likely, loved and lost. We can always love again. The world is full of new connections. New experiences. Only fear holds a fool back. Though most of all, ‘self love’ will stand with us eternally. And when we are in situations that make us doubt our own worth, don’t be afraid to close the door. There’s plenty more going on out there. Life’s a lesson. Learn it well. It is a great time to be alive.

We must remember ‘Legacy Media’, much of it wants to grow with us. Young people taking paths in journalism etc. It’s important to welcome that change and not let others influence the agenda into believing we are all at loggerheads with one another. There’s much positivity out there too. And individuals who work in media are posting their news across their social pages. Creating debate.

It all comes together as one big cake if we stop being angry. Gentle persuasion is more productive than arrogant meme’s and spiteful baiting. Think of the future, the next generation and how we as adults are perceived by attacking working sectors. We must encourage media journalism in all aspects and we must make any person who wants to work in those avenues feel inclusive and not belittled. There’s good and bad within all spectrums of news sharing. None of us are perfect by any standards!

Provoking a problem expands the most negative outcome. To choose friends wisely. A real mate won’t press buttons to start trouble on the doorstep, just to ‘get off’ on the aftermath. True friends/family will always want the best, above their own need for attention within any matter of goodness or indifference.

I will be leaving the X Platform. I have nothing to prove and nothing to gain. The nasty stuff, I don’t want in my thoughts. It was the very thing I tried to avoid. We must all stay in the positive light. Love is Stronger than Hate.

Tiffy Belle.

by Tiffany Belle Harper

My News – Women’s Work

On November 8th 2024, Tiffy’s Place exchanged ownership. I wish the new owners ‘Claire and Richard’ all the best with the building. St Chads Road was an interesting street to occupy for over six years, alongside the other proprietors. A mixed bunch (to say the least). And I let the place go for less than I spent on the purchase and renovation. That aside, the memories, experience in all aspects of life and the entirety of the journey will remain priceless. Not to mention hand rearing a seagull. Adopting a Ginger Tom left for dead in a plant pot (my Billy). For whom has gone on to have some pretty edgy experiences around Lytham too. And then Buddy who belonged to neighbours and is now the little bloke who is our pack leader. He’s six next year.

I had three things to accomplish in a matter of days. Move out of the hotel, tend to the suffering of my beloved dog ‘Angel’ for whom would have been 18 on Xmas Day. And release the top floor of Windmill House that is currently occupied by a series of events that have left me somewhat drained for words.

More seems to be advancing in terms of positive progress for women and abuse. I am pleased. Not just pleased for the victims, but delighted for the men who stand by the women. Because we need to name and shame such acts of intimidation with less fear. For a long while men are increasingly becoming demonised because of a small percentage that do not represent the male species. The cowards of the male populous should be isolated, held accountable and removed from society in the name of ‘the good guys’ who often get tarred with the same brush.

Though, sole traders do not have as much protection as women who work within organisations, offering some kind of structure against harassment, terrorisation, baiting and stalking. In my case the perpetrator managed to get spyware inside of the building, to include my bedroom, recruiting clearly a team of criminals trained in targeting the victim, with slim chance of being caught. It’s not a common thing and due to the fact the Hampstead Comedian is not a multiple terrorist. That it’s me he is focused toward, puts my case in a tough situation as with all acts of cowardice and well thought acts of victimisation, his tracks are well covered. What a tragic way to go about life whilst simultaneously misleading the public. Ten years of social stalking and two further years of damage and interference of my property, garden, car and workplace, with the hacking of my personal devices thrown in for good measure.

But you can’t let a low life stop the natural transition of the worth of another. You just have to hope for a miracle of truth and change that can put the bloke where he belongs. That someone, somewhere will take the time to get the justice deserved for a trail of absolute horror for his own entertainment, where the need to create worry and hardship toward the lives of others (far removed) become a substitute for all that is lacking in his own (not very interesting) world.

When I read about what is happening to the women in Afghanistan, my recent experiences feel more acceptable by comparison. Yet, I am left with a daily feeling of frustration that I do not currently have the tools to find the rightful salvation for the women and girls whose lives currently exist of nothing other than vague hope and total despair. To be covered from head to foot with involuntary robes, no education. Not even allowed to listen to music or express creative skills. It’s barbaric. A repugnant sense of financial deprivation and control of human life. We are all born with our rights to freedom. No man is big enough to break the spirit of the sisterhood. And there’s nothing more depraved than the male who wishes to do so. It’s the work of Satan. And Satan hides within fools who would not cope under the same environments they so readily rejoice with acts of abuse toward women and girls.

And there is no woman more corrupt than she who justifies the abuse of her sisters. Who allows lies and phycological acts of sordid deeds to go without her defense. We the sisterhood, we nurture. We are abundant in our cyclical nature. We give life and we take the burden of our soul source, the universe. We need to awaken and rise because the world is our only home. Everything is life. That said, each living thing has the right to die with dignity. But nature can be cruel.

There is no glory in suffering that can be avoided. Shame on war. Shame on the money machines that create it. Homes, families, environments torn down at the click of a button, whilst the smug dictators feast in bunkers made of fools gold.

Tiffy Belle.

by Tiffany Belle Harper

rainy afternoon – busy

I love it when I can have time with my immediate surroundings. And when I think about it, I don’t need much. Social Media always leaves me feeling detached and frustrated, as apart from sourcing, networking, and staying close to distant mates and family, it can also start to make us less connected with who we really are.

I like to think that if I form a bond with a human, it could be similar to real life, and it’s not just a means to gain front house popularity. It’s not like when we go to heaven then get asked by the door keepers, ‘so, how many Twitter followers did you get? Or, how much money did you stack up?’ Karmically the universe sees everything anyway. So, what will be, simply is. We are only ever our true intention. And living with a free conscience is true wealth.

We all make mistakes but taking account for our own destiny and purpose is nobody else’s responsibility. Everyone has stuff going on, both good and bad. But some are much worse off than others. It is not so much luck, but who we have around us. Our Tribe. The people who really do help each other through the mess. Sometimes, just by being a listening ear or a hug. Sharing a fag or grabbing a bag of chips to scoff in the park.

With mental illness there is a thin line between being prepared and reaching out for a frame network. And the internet can become a fine line of confusion, since, as much as being a means to share great things, it can equally become a bow and arrow for keyboard warrior’s and those who know how to inflict a precise and calculated hate campaign. Often targeting a seemingly lone person, with the intention and purpose to make that target feel as vulnerable and detached as possible. Various means to this route could range from a desire for fame, money and an/or an ample amount of free time to plan such acts of spite. Either way such calculations derive from the perpetrators own sense of worth and often they turn to the web to push that onto those they envy most. Often a person who lives quite happily without the need of validation from strangers, all day, every day. A vicious cycle.

Either way, the older I get, the more it all jumps out at me. Saddened by the fact there are those that seek drama by means of (cowardly and indirect) disruption when it is so unnecessary. I myself have at times become very low, but after counselling or just speaking with a friend, it becomes apparent I am simply processing how life events have made me feel. Mentally I would describe myself as strong. I know this, as when I am under enormous pressure my adrenalin kicks in. Especially if someone I love is being hurt or bullied. Worse still, if someone I love is being a bully.

I have however, gone on to make real life friends as a result of the internet. And have sourced crafts and trades this way too. But then there are a small majority that offset the positive by creating a simultaneously ‘fake existence’ online. One of which takes residence over their own ‘real life’ world. The broad term ‘stalking’ covers much of above. And can overspill to the target’s friends and family also being scrutinized. And in some cases, books and scripts are created using the base line of the stalker’s often misguided assumptions. Financial wealth is awarded to the prowler. But guess what. The target remains richer in terms of balance and abundance.

That’s why, it is imperative to think above and beyond small minded cycles that serve no purpose to our origin and purpose. That said mental health is a huge factor towards using the internet to seek revenge and reap havoc. Especially during a psychotic outrage of another. This in turn is ‘so far’ completely unvetted by social media hierarchy. I know, I have been on the receiving end. The web being a cry for any means of ‘often the wrong of’ attention. Where the mentally meek will use any means of falsehood to be heard in a sea of sharks. Then, when they get well, everything is back to the real perspective.

But when this happens, a portal opens for the prowlers to become almost ecstatic at discovering such seemingly potential drama, that could not possibly happen in their own ‘white supremacist’ bubble of bullshit. The web makes tribes very vulnerable. Isn’t life so very wicked at times. We just have to know we can turn it off and find happiness all around us. In my case, alleyways, and my my kitchen, where I just cooked myself and Danielle (my housekeeper at the hotel) fajitas with spinach and peppers. Going to have another in a mo, with a skinny coffee fix. Then my time warp of a girl cave (bedroom), where I find absolute inner tranquility. A space that is full of worthlessly sentimental treasures, to include my crystal ball, rocks, shells, driftwood, tarot and pets. It’s indescribably connected to core.

I gave up regular drinking a few years ago. when I realised I was in a cycle of addiction to the internet and booze, due to ill health and grim living conditions. Wine being my ‘then’ poison and a means to numb my constant sense of no confidence. I went on an all out soul-searching, learning curve and during this time set up Pet Service Directories and Animal welfare groups. Through my unstoppable determination, I was subsequently bullied to fuck by an established ‘designer pet group’ and a couple of seemingly do good ‘social influencers,’ who use their money (millions) to tick heads. I hate snobbery.

This all went on for years. A systematic battle for which my faith would not be deterred. But on reflection the feedback and updates I still get to this day, regarding the progress I made for the animals, make it all worthwhile. And my tech skills vastly improved, due to the long haul out of physical service.

As we get older, we look back at life and wonder how we could have done things differently. But what we must remember, we cannot change the past. Only learn and grow away from it.

tiffany belle harper

We must remember there are those that confuse ‘love and admiration’ with ‘jealousy and resentment’. People who do not know how to feel empowered by any other, than themselves. The greatest people alive, are often ‘seemingly’ the most hated at a social glance. Maybe because they are truly loved within their own tribes in the real world. Where this in turn creates rivalry. Popularity indeed walks alleyways and does not need or wish to fill stadiums or win prizes. Wisdom has always been free for us all. Never forget that. Dew glistens brighter than diamonds and we can all afford nature.

Two nights a week I may enjoy a drink. It’s a 9% rose fusion made with strawberries and summer fruits. I thoroughly enjoy it on ice with a splash of tonic. I also have a takeaway and make wax melts, soap and bath fizz. I listen to jazz. I know it sounds boring, but I get off on it. I have a load of rescue pets too.

I was a young mum to two boys. I hardly had a social life. In fact, I cannot remember having one at all. I had an open house for all their mates. Three jobs. I would spend all my spare income on food for the kids. I drove them everywhere. I recall taking them to see Eminen in Milton Keynes. The town was rammed. There was absolutely nowhere to park up to wait for them. So, I rather stupidly drove all the way home, walked the dogs. Put a wash on then drove back. Due to it being so busy it took me 3 hours to get there. It was pouring with rain and my phone battery was dead. So, I got out my old banger of a car and ran around the arena circuit looking for the group I had to take home.

I was so worried, not only that I had lost my own kids, but also the two boys with them. I think they were about 12 and 14 at the time. I had given them strict instructions how to stay safe. And where to meet me. But the place we had arranged, which is where I had dropped them off, was now closed off to divert all traffic. The entire system was mayhem. Eventually finding the boys, I was by now almost wetting myself. I had an old washing up bowl in the boot so hid my best and went for a pee in there. Not one of them thanked me for my efforts to transport them to and from the concert. But we don’t do it for praise. It was their first gig. We do it to fill their lives with good memories. But as they turn to adults, they can all too often forget the things we did in favour of what we did not.

I love my boys, but it has not been easy. I am similar to both of them, but in different ways. I am proud. Our children, no matter what age can break our hearts, repeatedly. And we have to allow them to do that. I want James to move to Blackpool as I think he could nail this town. And I want Ashley to release his confidence with balance and harmony.

I still miss Dad. He was my best friend. I never really knew Mum. But I am trying. Our lives have been so different.

I want to retire before I die. But then work keeps me from over thinking. I sometimes miss blogging so much, now I am living in a goldfish bowl. Not everyone wants to be clapped by strangers. Life is much bigger than that. We are all on the same journey and it’s how we feel with our own space that counts most. Nothing to prove here. Am fine with me. I do good. Best I can.

Finally here is a video by a really good mate of mine, Seca One. Speaking quite openly about his history on the streets, together with his mind and how he turned it into being a successful artist. I hope it can help at least one person. Men tend to suffer in ways that are harder to detect. Often becoming hostile and aggresive. This makes me worry. Men need to be heard in a way that takes away a sense of delusion and guilt shifting.

Tiffany. X

by Tiffany Belle Harper

‘Poster by Rebekah Gillian | Freelance Writer ● Autistic Lifestyle Blogger’ – Tiffany Belle Harper

Some facts here about the broadly often misunderstood topic of Autism that we all need to tread with more gently. Seen too much nastiness towards those who are special and sadly, often instigated by those in seemingly high places. Needs to be addressed.

If you cannot be kind then shut the fuck up. We don’t need nastiness in the playground. It also amazes me how parents can treat others the way they would not want their kids to be treated. Hardly a good example. Being thoughtful and aware (to me) is more prevalent in those regarded lower class too. Who seem to spend more time in the community than pretending to live a life they do not, behind closed posh doors. There should be no stigma with autism.

Tiffany Belle Harper

REFERENCE POSTER: Rebekah Gillian

by Tiffany Belle Harper

Mess and Mood by Tiffany Belle Harper – February 2021

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

by Tiffany Belle Harper