Mary Poppins

​I have secret 

Not many of you know this but I actually have a super power. I suppose you may have guessed by the title of this blog entry, but I can be Mary Poppins. Give me a flat or house and free rein to move, sort, tidy, arrange, rearrange and I can make genuine magic happen. Add the fact that I have ADHD and I’m a Virgo the transformation is BIG. Now for more than a year when I’m at Mr.Richmond’s place I do wonders. I then write reams of notes. Some of this is purely what I have moved. Sometimes I explain why, sometimes I give suggestions. (Let’s be honest too, I’m shit at suggestions. I’m mostly telling, ordering, directing - terrible masculine energy). 

Since Sunday I’ve been writing this novella for him. If i’m not actually writing, then I’m thinking of what I need to add etc. to the note. I think of it in the night too. 

Coach Renee has been on a well deserved break until today. She checked in on me and I told her what I was doing. She left me a rock star message. She said, “Why don’t you not leave a note.” He will just see what you have done. 

Fireworks explode in my head! Holly shit! He is a grown ass man with eyes. It’s his place, all he has to do is open any cupboard or drawer and see the magic. Aside from the huge realisation that this is the BEST option. I felt huge relief , freedom and a weight lifted. 

War and Peace is not needed, nor has there ever been any expectation for me to do anything at all. I mean I have been raised as a good girl, who keeps tidy and cleans up after herself. That’s all that’s required. (you should see how I leave hotel rooms - once I even stripped the bed. YES! too excessive) 

Now no note means that I have not shared any of my wisdom.. but it also gives him the opportunity to call me and ask for it, if he so wishes. 

PS. If you want my tidying services- call me

The last 2 nights after I’ve logged off for the day, I’ve gone on long glorious walks along the Thames. It’s almost like the universe planned it. The last night I went in one direction and this evening I went the other way. So glorious. 

I also visited my favourite friends. Old, old trees. I love trees so much! Listen to how cra cra this is. If dream man offered me a huge skating ring of a diamond ring. Or a big ass ancient oak, London plane (it’s a tree) or redwood with some land. I would choose the tree. I would hug my tree every day. (I’d hug him too)

Today I put my hand on 2 trees. I don’t even look around anymore to see if people are watching. I don’t care. All I know is that when I have my palm to the tree my heart beat slows. 

OMG! This just make me think of a boy that I loved from a long, long, long time ago. (PS. If I’ve loved you, I’ll always love you). Anyhow, whenever I even stood next to him my heart rate changed. One might think that it goes faster. That’s what you see in the movies, racing heart etc.  But no, not me. When he was near there was the deep calm and safety. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, but I sure hope he is well. He had the best smell too! Scrumptious 

Come on readers! Find me my person already!!!

Here are some pictures of my tree friends. 

The girth on this one! 

This one was just beautiful but I didn’t go and touch it. 

Flow & Taco Tuesday

Saturday July 11th 2026

​I’m starting this entry from my office aka the bathtub. I think if I was a millionaire I would have some sort of standing desk in a pool with a waterproof keyboard. I’m sure that sort of thing works. I know when I was working for the NHS we have these really clean keyboards that you would just wipe etc. 

The football is also on right now, house mate is watching and I’ll watch towards the end when it’s important. I’ve only ever lived in 2 countries; I can tell you that how England scores affects life on the street. Happy people vs sad people. 

Regardless of the footy, we get to choose how we want this precious life to play out. 

As mentioned in previous entries, I’ve fallen off the radar with the core folks. I still send the occasional text. One of them asked how I was doing etc. This was my response:

(Start of text)

Hey, thanks for the text. I’m mostly ok with the heat most nights. Even the days, I seem to be wearing lots of strapless bandeau dresses so it’s working. 

I spoke to my brother the day after the last text. It’s clear that my family think and do things very differently to me. 

We had a family call yesterday and it was even more evident that not only are we on 2 different paths, we are also moving further away. 

I don’t suspect there will be any change with my sister at all, she continues to be consumed with my father’s health and is planning another holiday. I come from a long line of avoidant people who run from their problems. 

I on the other hand, run towards my problems to resolve them. 

There is no right or wrong; there is no rule book. 

All I know is that I wish them well. I won’t be allowing their dramas to affect me any longer.

xx 

(text ends)

My new normal feels more, more and more like normal. It’s almost not even new anymore. It’s remarkable how we can shape our own lives. 

Let’s talk about flow, being in it, and what that looks like in my life. 

Coach Renee has been consistently telling me to clear my diary, just be, be still, and let things flow. My human design also explains that my life is much better when things to come to me. 

For the longest time I’ve been operating in my masculine. This is pretty normal behaviour if you are single and you have to do everything on your own. This is normal; I’m not criticising the way I’ve had to operate. I can’t be Barbie waiting for Ken to get on with it. However, there are moments every day when I don’t have to be doing all the time. I can’t see what happens. I don’t have to plan everything. I can be in flow.

Flow can look like so many things. I’ve lived with my housemate for the last 8 years now. I couldn’t tell you how this has happened but he cooks for me now. Like often. At least twice a week. He has completely transformed the house over the last few years. He fixes things, cuts the grass in the garden, vacuums. It’s bloody great! Keep in mind, I do plenty for him too. Maybe it’s just starting to be reciprocated. Who knows. 

Tuesday July 14th 2026

 I’m on my way to taco 🌮 Tuesday with Mr.Richmond. For the life of me, I can’t remember what he’s called on this blog. I last saw him post surgery in May. He drove across London to visit me. He’s a good apple. One of his best compliments to me, was the fact that he could never lie to me. I believe him too. Even when he knows I would be disappointed, he still tells me what he’s been upto. 

Taco Tuesday is also part of the flow. As mentioned in previous entries, I told the core group (4 people) that I won’t be social calendar 📅 diary secretary. Since then, there has not been a single get together. Some have made more of an effort, some less so. I’m remaining in flow with no judgment. If it’s meant to be, it will be. 

So Taco 🌮 Tuesday. I sent the restaurant details to the 4 of them. Then one came back to me. I said pick a Tuesday. The suggested Tuesday worked for me. Before I knew it, he made the restaurant reservation too! You have no idea how nice it is when the admin is done. It’s a delight. 

The restaurant was on the 15th floor so nice views of London. After 8 rounds of taco’s we then strolled around this beautiful city. The final part was a proper old fashioned pub. Spain 🇪🇸 was winning and I’m so happy for them. Let them enjoy this time. 

Until we meet again….

I still need to explain how great my Brighton trip was 

The reality of life at the moment

I started writing on the evening to Tuesday July 7th and posting on the evening of Wednesday July 8th

​Well well, I’m back again. I’m sitting here on an annoying synthetic velvet sofa in the heat, typing on an iPhone with 6% battery while watching Normal People for the 10 millionth time. As for the sofa, my next one will be linen ideally or maybe cotton or wool. It won’t be sprayed with scotch guard or any toxins. I won’t care if it gets dirty.

Where the fuck have I been? Be warned, I’m in a super sweary mood. Every second word of this entry could be fuck. 

June was pretty good, I’m staying in my lane even though I fucking hate that stupid saying. I’ve been uber careful with my boundaries, mindful if I’ve giving too much and how I feel. When I’m with people, does the atmosphere and feeling feel reciprocal? This actually means I haven’t seen alot of friends. Over my growth in the last few months, I’ve outgrown the majority of ‘my people’. I know this sounds weird and odd. Also thank fuck they don’t read this blog!

Now I still love them, I’m grateful for them, I care for them, I’ll be there for them etc. it’s just that they don’t actually fill my cup anymore, some interactions even take from my cup. This is not fault of theres, I’m the one that’s changed. It’s like the typical break up line when one person, (normally the guy) says, it’s not you. It’s me. Well people, this time it’s me. 

In late May I had the surgery on my nose. It went well, it just took it out for me. This moved into June. But by the end of June I pretty much bounced back. 

For Glastonbury weekend (always the last weekend of June) I stayed in a Shepherds Hut in Wiltshire with one of my oldest UK friends. (I haven’t outgrown her. There are some key things in life. Big things that we both get / understand. We often never even talk about it. We just get it. We get each other). Part of the trip included visiting Stonehenge. It was fun and I found out that there are 4 days a year when you can touch the actual stones. I’m not totally sure why I want to touch the stones but I do! So i will. You can find me amongst a crowd on the autumn equinox at the stones. As I’m writing this I’m know that I drawn to old things, sacred traditions, old buildings, churches, ruins, Forrest, castles and the rest. 

A few hours later, free style typing with one hand while trying to not fall on the tube to work. Seriously not a fan of working in a concrete jungle. Due the heat, all the window blind shutters are closed. If I ruled the world I would make it illegal to withhold sun light from humans in the daytime. All this for air conditioning.

Let me see if I can get back on track.

I’ll probably dip in and out of 5 recent days when I was in Brighton. I seriously had the best days full of easy, and flow. 

This next part will flow. I promise. I saw lots of old friends. One of whom is a very tall faithful reader. We caught up briefly and he asked how I was. I think I gave him the option of how things really are vs the easy answer of good. Actually I probably didn’t even do that. I got straight to it. I do remember using the word bullshit a lot. Anyhow, this is something along the lines of what I said. 

I’m going great, wonderful and fabulous actually. There are still loads of things I’m working on but all in all, life is good. 

The family on the other hand is a bit of shit show. Also they are far, and they are very much indoctrinated in their ideology, mentality, thoughts etc. Trust me folks, they have no interest in my 2 cents and I finally have enough insight to not waste my time. (Hallelujah, Amen, let’s thank the Lord of the  Universe 😉)

My dad started his radiation cancer treatment this week. Last week my sister (who is not coping with her own plate) went to his medical appointment. He has kidney disease, prostate cancer, vascular dementia, and Alzheimer’s disease. The doctor said that my sister was needed at the appointment because the previous appointment in April was shit show. Oops! I forgot something. He also had a stroke in the last 40 years that none of us are aware of. This includes him, he can’t remember and the scans and tests can’t actually say exactly when. 

Long time readers know there is so much sadness and pain in my family. I am acutely aware of how tragic this is. This man, my dad, has done everything for us. His life has been hard. The relationship with his 3 kids is very fragmented, it’s the same as with his own siblings. He’s been divorced for donkeys years. He’s stubborn, fragile and set in his ways. He so easily could have had a stoke and nobody would have even noticed. He’s pretty much lived alone since I was 22 when I left his house. (Older posts will explain that I lived with him after my mom kicked me out at 16 - oh! More fun times). Back to my dad. My sister said last week, he needed help spelling my sister’s name. 5 letters. 

My brother who’s not even 40 has a heart arrhythmia. He was under investigation pre May cruise, and he was in severe pain in the cruise. He chose to not disclose this to any of us and told my mom only once he was back in Canada. He has almost not body fat, he goes to the gym, rock climbs, skates, runs etc. He has the strictest diet too. Like most things, I don’t know what his plans are. I just wish him well. 

My mom Is busy volunteering and planning her trips. She’s emptied her pockets and filled her diary. This year she will have done, 2 cruises and visited, India twice, Australia and the UK. Let’s not forget she was almost dying in January. I had a chat with her sister over the weekend. We are happy that she is happy, we just don’t get it. I met with one of my mom’s very close friends too this weekend. She thinks that maybe my mom’s near death experience had brought on all this travel. who knows?

And then we get to my sister. When I was doing the recap with the friend, I just said that she has been off of work with sever depression since April and it’s not good. On Monday night when I’m heading home after 5 fun filled days… I spoke to my mom. (Note to self - don’t do that again. Finish 5 fun days. Go to sleep with good memories. Deal with real life the next day). Anyhow, my mom said that within the last 2 days she had called the Canadian equivalent to the UK Samaritans. She called the suicide hotline. 

Let’s look at this rationally, calling the helpline is normally a cry for help. I think this is her case. It is also often the last call before someone makes a life ending decision. 

Diversion: I know a lot about suicide, there was my mother attempt, and then my 3 friends who I have spoken about on here. I also at one point wanted to be a Samaritans volunteer. I met with them on an open day. It’s such a noble calling but it dawned on me, it won’t bring Tim, Paul and Mark back. 

So…. On the call my mom said, I’m just for her (my sister) call so say “Bring me”. She is insinuating the Mental Health A&E / ER. The thing is, it doesn’t always work like that. 5 to 6 people die per hour in North America and Europe by taking their own life. I’m sorry to bring the tone sooo low but I think my mom is only looking at this from one side. 

She (my mom) then went on to say that social services are filled to capacity and the waitlist for intense treatment is years. When I asked about paying privately it was 10k and that was immediately discarded. I’m just miffed. I was reminded once more that I shouldn’t call my sister and that she can’t “handle it”.

She (sister) did call me a few weeks when she was having an anxiety panic attack. In 17 minutes I was able to make her feel better, by reminding her that she’s the one that has the power. She can leave my parents to fend for themselves. If you can’t take care of yourself it’s very difficult taking care of others. 

The next day (yesterday) I spoke with my brother to get the low down. He lectured me but I’ll get to that. The treatment center was researched by my sister who then told my mom. My mom then told my brother. No info about the name, details etc was disclosed. Bro then explained that the night before my sister spoke to her therapist online and he gave her suggestions. When I asked my brother what the suggestions were, he said he wasn’t going to tell me. So that it’s, my fucked up family continue to play games of sharing only some things with some people, some of the time. He then lectured me on my tone, his masters degree in marketing makes him an expert. Keep in mind, I wasn’t talking to my sister. I was just asking what’s going on. 

So to maintain the goodness in my life, I have to spend my units wisely. (Tyler Durden in Fight Club explains energy as units - great film. Go watch it).

My family are so tangled in their weave of trauma bonds that the only thing I can do is to pray for them and live my best life. 

If my sister called me, so I take the call? I really can’t handle having the last call with her before she’s gone forever. 

I spoke to Mark 3 days before he died, I also spoke to him 2 weeks before when I asked him if he was going to do it. It Marks case, the meds were increased which is a major contributing factor. 

Oh! And as I was waking into the wood land park where I writing ✍️ now (work day is over). I saw a robin. I see Robin’s all the time. That’s always Mark. (Side note: Tara Swart’s book The Signs is very good)

Do I message my family text group and let my sister know that I’m not calling because I’ve been told not to. If I did that, does that make it about me. Maybe 🤔 

Let’s talk about other things. Over the last few days I started drinking again. I don’t drink for a year. I’ve never had an alcohol problem and if I’ve ever had a bad day, I purposely won’t drink. I’ll also almost never drink alone. I’ve made sooo many rules but that’s also what happens when you have had 3 family members die of alcoholism. 

Drinking is fun when you’re with good people. Ice is good too! Did you know that I only have ice with alcohol, no other drink. 

At work today I left the concrete jungle for lunch. Sadly I had 2 very very very creepy brown men stare at me. I don’t even know how to describe it. It was not flirting, it was creepy and threatening. Thank God it was day light and there were lots of people around. No woman should have to justify her clothing but I will. I was wearing a sleeveless dress that goes to my knees and the neck line was a V neck but high. I was blessed with a rack so wearing any bra means I’ll have cleavage. I was soo upset. I ranted to one of you fabulous readers on a voice message and spoke to 2 colleges in the office. 1 was a a girl who’s my shade and told her to be vigilant, the other was just a manager to vent. He was very sorry for me, he could emphasise but has no idea what it feels like. 

Think I’ll press send on this one and start writing more about last weekend. 

Money is ENERGY

​Well folks! This next one has been on my mind for bloody months now! There has been so many times where I wanted to get into it, and just no time. 

I write this onboard a British Airways flight to Tampa. It’s a nine and half hour journey so this is an adequate amount of time. Hehe! 

This one is all about money, my relationship to it and how money is an exchange of energy not just finances. Now I’m sure if you troll through this riveting occasionally inactive blog, you’ll find other posts where I talk about money. Apologies now if I’m repeating myself. 

Where the hell should I start. Let’s start with Scott Galloway who gets it! (Side note, go read, Notes on Being a Man). He says that when it comes to dating, men should pay for woman. He likes to add that if you go Dutch, how do you expect a kiss  at the end of the night. Yes Scott! jokes and kisses aside, that’s how it should work. When a man pays he is providing for his woman, or in my case. The companion at the time who is just a friend. 

There is something symbolic and deeper when a guy pulls out the card or cash and sorts out the bill. When it comes to housemates, flatmates, I’ve always lived with guys. Even when I go out for dinner now, he pays and later on when we are home I’ll transfer my part, if it’s requested, it’s not always. I’m cool with that. 

Another thing that I have really observed in people over the years is how deeply ingrained their money story is. It is so deep routed. Both my parents came from nothing and it’s interesting watching their financial decisions and how they spend. It’s interesting watching anyone spend to be honest. Maybe even watching how people don’t spend is even more interesting. 

Now I’m very transparent with money, ask me what I make and I’ll tell you. I have a few friends who will answer the question and some who don’t. When it comes to savings or investments, I don’t think anyone has ever answered. Now I don’t need to know this number, it’s none of my fucking business. It’s just context for the next part. How people spend and how generous they are. Again money is energy. 

Let me give some examples of a good energy exchange. I actually think I may have mentioned this is a previous post in the last few years. I’m at the airport gate waiting to board. I end up talking to man about the vending machine misbehaving and not delivering the needed chocolate. Later he found out there was another machine a few gates away. He asked if I could watch his bag, he was on a mission. Before heading off, he asked what I wanted. I’m sure there was a slight delay because I’m always taken back by kindness, however I quickly replied with a Twix please. Soon after he returned with a twix. It’s not about the money, it’s not about the fact that I looked after his bag. It’s an exchange of energy. 

Here is an exchange now of BAD energy, this one has sadly left a bad taste in my mouth. Female friend who has high ambitions to move up the corporate ladder and retire early. (60 from memory). She makes more than her partner and is the primary breadwinner. She looks at her finances and investments regularly. At Christmas she went through all her bank statements to see what she spends in different categories. I leaned this during the restaurant meal. She made the reservation, based on a set menu. A credit card hold was taken for the meal. A few weeks prior I sent over my part as I was budgeting etc. In the end, the meal was a bit more due to the drink or dessert. When the bill came, she paid and then asked for the £8.50 to be transferred over to her later. I did that and knew instantly that this person is not for me. Nice girl, kind, generous with her time. But when it comes to fun, it’s an ick! I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not her role to pay for me. I just know that I wouldn’t ask if I was in the reverse position. My relationships with friends has changed and maybe it’s more about her not being aligned to who I am now. Who knows 

This next bit is not so much the energy of money, but more on the abundance, flow and safety it brings. In February, I had dinner with an old fling. Dabbling took place on 2011, he since got married, had 3 kids and is now divorced. Over the years that have gone by, he worked hard for a Fortune 500 company. His salary at his peak is 8 times what I make in a year! Holy shit! I don’t even know what that feels like. I sure hope to one day. It’s not about the large income, it’s more of what he said. When taking about the hay day and his marriage at the time. He casually said, we never had to think about money. He was not boasting, if was just a simple fact as he’s recounting the past. I can only imagine what that does to the nervous system. The calmness in the body. I can even feel it just thinking about it. It’s safe to say, he paid for our meal. 

As I’m writing, I’m noticing the theme of money and food. I suppose they both nourish. If we go back to hunter gatherer time, there was no money. There was probably some sort of barter system, and when someone was fed that’s an exchange too. 

Wait! I’m suddenly having a lightbulb moment. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this one too. I’m about to see my family in less that 24 hours. This has been a rollercoaster. My dad has always paid for our meals. I’m sorry if I sound like a spoilt brat but I think this is a good thing. I think this is normal, I also don’t take this for granted. I think if you’re going to have offspring. Feed them. Simple. I’m not asking for caviar. My mom on the other hand doesn’t get it. She likes to split the bill. I do it in bewilderment. I think to myself, you fed me from your breast…. And now you can’t??? If any of you are lost. This is clearly a metaphor. 

On the plus side, I have somewhat had money talks with my mom, she is starting to get it. 

This cruise (come back for future posts) is fully inclusive so thankfully there will not be any bills at the end of the meals. 

Here is one more fun meaningful exchange of money (energy) where no money was even spent. The other night I was late night texting with a male friend. It was late and I was starving. He told me to order some food  on an app and he’ll pay for it! OMG I almost fell over but I was in bed. (Actually I was thinking, let me get my knee pads, marry me) In the end, I didn’t order food, but man was I touched. 

Last fun thing about me and my relationship with money. I would like to be mortgage free and have a good amount of savings for retirement, fun and a rainy day. That will come. 

I also want to enjoy what money can buy and bring. My mom always use to say, what’s the point of having china or nice things for special occasions that you almost don’t use. I totally agree with that. Get nice things, use them, enjoy them.

I love jewellery, the real stuff. Simple, elegant, a statement, a solitaire, a gift, an heirloom, something passed down etc. Over the years I’ve met sooooo many people who wear jewellery with a story. So often passed down or a gift from a loved one. Aside from when I was a baby (i wore gold bracelets - it’s a very cool Indian tradition), all my jewellery has been purchased by me. I suppose being single my whole life has not helped in the jewellery department. However, this my friends will be changing next week! I’m sooo excited. There are some beautiful earrings that I’ve wanted the moment I laid eyes on them on Taylor Sheridan TV show. My dad is getting them for me. Not entirely sure of the logistics of it. It’s part gift for sure, maybe full gift or maybe part loan where I’ll pay him back slowly. Whatever the case is, I’m happy. 

I think I’ll wrap this one up, just remember folks, money is energy. When you buy someone a coffee, a pint, an ice cream, chocolate it’s all energy!

Oops! One more story. When you spend money, you can’t expect something in return. You have to give freely. I’ve been buying my housemate an Easter egg every year he has lived with me. And every year without fail, he get gets me nothing. For a few years I use to get annoyed, even angry. Now I give because it’s who I am. It’s what I believe in, it’s what gives me joy. So this year when I gave him his Easter egg, he reached into his kitchen cupboard and gave me a pack of spaghetti. This my friends is progress in my books. 

Love ya

L x