jelly bubble bath: a parent’s beauty regime

My beauty regime has taken a turn since becoming a parent. And then another more drastic turn when I went back to a fairly demanding full time job just recently. My leisurely home-made day spa beauty regime has become an ‘as needs’ pluck or snip on the run. I now look for ways to combine the two: Parenting and pampering that is, not plucking and running as I assure you that will never end well. Have you ever poked yourself in the eye with tweezers? I have. It sets you back a bit.

Drum roll, the Jelly Bubble Bath. It’s super fun for little (and big) kids to have a tutti-frutti bubble bath. And it’s probably a lot healthier than actually eating the jelly.

jelly bubble batha packet of jelly
a dash of bubble bath
a slosh of almond oil (optional)
a ducky (not really optional)

ducky in the bath


summer brought me sunshine

We have had some pretty silly weather. At the beginning of summer it was so hot that we thought it would be a fire season. Then it started raining.  And it kept raining. We’ve had so much rain that people walk around looking soggy. At first, you could almost hear the seedlings in my garden sigh with relief when the rain began. But now their little faces, turned to the hidden sun, are bloated and blotchy. Like the people I pass in the street.

But who am I to complain. Summer brought me sunshine in the form of this dwarf sunflower that burst open to display 15 flowers from the one woody stalk. I just had to share this glorious gardening moment with you.

dwarf sunflower

rob roy: the cocktail

This is an ode to the Scottish Robin Hood, Robert Roy MacGregor. Well actually, the drink originated much after that in honour of a musical operetta based loosely on some of the key points of a select few years of the man’s life. With such an intro, it’s only appropriate to garnish this drink with a cherry for ol’ Red MacGregor.

Rob Roy cocktailAs far as drinks go, you could call this a Manhattan made on scotch and you’d be pretty right. Similar to the Manhattan and Martini, you need to do a bit of experimentation to find your perfect balance of dry and sweet, you do this with sweet and dry vermouth combinations. The starting point is this:

30 ml scotch
15 ml sweet vermouth
angostura bitters
maraschino cherry to serve

Add the scotch and vermouth to a well iced cocktail shaker, shake or stir to chill, then pour into a chilled martini glass that has been rinsed with bitters and garnish with a cherry.

I just want something to wear to dinner

I struggle to understand why I can’t just wear my jersey pants and fluffy flats to dinner.

Too often going out for dinner turns into a fashion faux pas. I’m looking for something pretty, but sophisticated, and of course, something with a bit of give in the midriff. The reality is that after I’ve gorged myself on my dinner and several glasses of wine, holding my tummy in isn’t going to be achievable nor consistent.

It’s a 1950’s black pencil dress with some leopard pumps.

I start out looking great, by the time I’ve had my main course I can only remember to hold my tummy flat on the way to the bathroom but not on the way back. I’m alternating between looking great and looking frumpy. I’m confusing people.

My friends decide to go to the local bar now that the restaurant is closing. It sounds like a great idea.

I’ve completely forgotten that my dress has a long slit up the back thats now riding up quite high to compensate for my pot belly out front (that I couldn’t possibly hold in now).

I arrive at the bar feeling the confidence of my last drink but look like the martini, three glasses of wine and two courses that I’ve consumed.

My clumsiness is incompatible with the slit in my dress. Someone should really tell me not to bend over. And the phrase, dance like no ones watching, didn’t originate from this teetering shuffle – because let’s hope they’re not watching.

The next morning its the jersey pants and fluffy flats that make me feel like me again. That, and the alka seltzer.

Alka Seltzer Roy Lichtenstein 1966

image: Roy Lichtenstein, Alka Seltzer (1966)