You want me to put my boobs where ?

There are a few things that I have observed about getting older - I mean proper older not that "Oh I can't believe I'm going to be 30 next birthday" kind of rubbish. This is the realistion that two years from now I'm going to be 50. Oh shit ! What on earth have I done with all these years so far ? Well, a fair bit really. It's what's to come that fascinates me now.

I always took it for granted that I would grow old with my friend Soraya. We had our kids older than most women we know so shared a loathing of all things aimed at, 'yummy mummies.' When we were both back at work after maternity leave we used to go for a run at lunchtime. It was less about fitness and more about plodding round Green Park while having a natter and a catch up. One weekend while driving somewhere - probably to visit the in-laws - she phoned me. It wasn't unusual for us to have a chat outside of work, but it was often futile as one or other of us would be on the move. She told me that she had something to tell me and she was sorry not to tell me in person, but wanted me to  know something. I knew it wasn't going to be good news. It wasn't. Soraya had breast cancer. She apologised to me - I told her not to be so daft. Then we talked about all the practical things that she had to do, the treatment plan, the time off work, etc. I offered my help with anything at all. She thanked me and we went about our business.

Once the treatment started we would talk about how it was going. When anyone 'helpfully' suggested some woo-woo solution like herbs or light healing we'd have an expletive filled conversation about it. I mean me and Hubbie had heard all that guff when were told we would never have children. Shamanic drumming, acupuncture, sound healing, all sorts of magical waters to bathe in and even some specific foods were all suggested. When anyone told Soraya that this thing was better for her than chemotherapy we would discuss how, "it would be lovely to bathe in marshmallows, but I'll take the poison that has a chance of killing the cancer thanks." At one point she told me how guilty she felt about the 'poison' and I told her to stop thinking of it that way and to see it as medicine that was working for her and not against her. We spoke about hair loss and how crap she felt after chemo.

Then the treatment was done and it was the waiting game until she had the 'all clear.' There were check ups and after effects and the constant fear that any twinge or headache was a sign of something far more serious. Two years ago she had a pain in her spine that wouldn't go away. Whenever I talked to her we were baffled that her doctors weren't taking it seriously considering her health history. Then a year ago she paid privately for an MRI and it showed she had a tumour on her spine. That's what was causing the pain. She was livid - understandably. We talked about what was to come next. Radiotherapy this time and she told people in stages that she had secondary cancer. She had the overseas holiday she'd wanted for years. We went to the theatre and spent time making radio shows together. Every time we met we would hug like long lost sisters and it was magic. It was her last year of life - even though we didn't know that at the time. I am so grateful I spent as much time with her as I did, albeit by accident rather than design.

So why is this on my mind right now ? Well a couple of reasons, but I'll tell you just one of them for now. About a month ago I was called for a mammogram. My first thought was, hang on who's going to go with me ? Don't get me wrong I am perfectly capable of going to appointments by myself. However, in this case it was one we had already discussed. Whenever Soraya had a check up I'd offer to go with her. We agreed when it was my turn she would do the same. I told Hubbie and he said he'd go with me. It was a lovely gesture, but when we arrived were told it is a women only clinic and he had to wait outside - fair enough. As I sat in the waiting room making small talk with the nurse I felt the panic begin. Not for me - that wasn't the issue at all. It was fear that the sadness would rise and overwhelm me. It wasn't via breast screening that she found out about her cancer. She did have a lot of them afterwards during remission though. We joked about the 'boob sandwich' and how only a man could have created such an instrument of torture. As I repeated the same joke to the kindly nurse who undertook the exam my face hurt from trying not to cry. Then it was over and I went to work.

The results came two weeks later. All fine.

Not everyone is so lucky. For anyone who has had different news I am thinking of and holding you right now.

Thank you for the music, the laughter and the love

Yesterday was a tough day. I had intended to write a post while the boys were at football, but just before they left I got a text message. A friend I love dearly is seriously ill and has days to live. She is the same age as me and we have been through a lot together. I knew she was ill - of course I did - but I had no idea this would happen. So soon. I spent some time walking round a bit lost. Then I cried. A lot. When I thought I was done it started again and eventually I had to ask Hubbie to not rush home as I didn't want the boys to see Mummy so upset. 

Things aren't so easy at the moment. I have a lot I want to say, but it is all too soon. When in doubt I turn to music so I'm doing that now. For my beautiful, wonderful, talented friend.  The last time we saw each other we chatted, made jokes and played music. All the things we love.  

So for now I can only think in terms of the music we shared and loved. Forgive me if the words don't make much sense. 

Prince - Starfish and Coffee:

Once we were at a conference in Islington and we went for brunch afterwards. Soraya ordered pancakes with maple syrup, banana and bacon. She declared them, "not that bad," and I surmised that it was her pregnancy hormones talking. 

Norah Jones - Thinking aboout you: 

Soraya phoned me one day to tell me she had some news. She had breast cancer and had wanted to tell me in person, but she wanted me to know. I saw her soon after and throughout the treatment we spoke regularly. Even if we didn't meet up, she was in my thoughts. We joked about going shopping for wigs together. She always gave time to talking about my stuff, however mundane it was in comparison. Having said that she did not forgive me for going to see Norah at Ronnie Scotts without her last Autumn. 

Shakespeare's Sister - Stay: 

Whatever happened we were there for each other. When she was given the all clear 5 years after a breast cancer diagnosis we walked the Moonwalk together. At the beginning when they said 'think about who you are doing this for' we held each other and cried. She was my reason - she was there with me. We talked non-stop for around ten hours and still had plenty to say to each other. I don't know anyone else I could do that with. 

David Bowie - Lazarus: 

I remember how devastated I felt when a man I didn't know and had never met died two years ago. His music has been with me my whole life and the idea that he was gone just filled me with sadness. When I spoke to Soraya she expressed exactly the same emotions. As 2016 progressed we shared our angst at how terrible a year it was turning into. 2017 had to be better surely ? It wasn't. When we last spoke she told me she just wanted to get the year over so that we could start a new one and look to the future. I had no idea she would not be part of it. 

Corinne Bailey Rae - Put Your Records On:

This is how I want to think of Soraya - in the studio playing tunes she loved. That and being the DJ for Cheeky in the Chapel, the fundraiser she hosted for Radio Lewes and the Oyster Project. The excitement as she introduced songs by artists she had just discovered and I shared music with her that I had fallen in love with.

In the end I will remember her through music. That and her sign off when we spoke on the phone - lots of love.

I'm a walking

Today I calculated that I've walked 158 training miles so far in preparation for the Moonwalk and I have at least 77 miles to go before the big walk.

On the evening of Sat 13th - Sun 14th May I'll be walking 26.2 miles through London wearing a decorated bra to raise money for breast cancer treatment and support services. I'm doing it because both Hubbie and I have lost loved ones to cancer - as have so many people.

I've taken part in the Moonwalk twice before. The first time was 8 years ago before Brown Bear was born and I had all the time in the world to train and walking was a jolly jape rather than a military operation fitted in between school and nursery drop off and pick ups. It was the most challenging thing I've done (and I'm including taking the boys to Ikea during the school holidays - seriously what was I thinking ?) which is why it's taken me so long to do it again.

The last time I did the moonwalk was with my wonderful friend Soraya and we walked the half moon to celebrate her surviving breast cancer. It was an emotional night and one I'm so proud to have shared with her as it meant so much to me that she made it and is here now to cheer me along.

Walking is a meditative thing for me and I find that whatever mood I'm in when I start by the time I've been walking for an hour or so I've already written a novel in my head and solved at least one world issue. I smile at people walking their dogs and appreciate the trees, plants and flowers all around me. When I've been walking through London I notice how many places I know from having worked there and others from disastrous first dates.

I have at least 77 more training miles to go before the big night. As the weather improves I'm enjoying the walks a lot more than when I started them in the wintry climes of February.

I've got a sponsorship page here - if you are able to sponsor me I'd be so grateful: https://moonwalklondon2017.everydayhero.com/uk/swazi

For now though think of me and my poor sore feet.

This is what a fundraiser looks like: where's my t-shirt eh ?

This time of year seems to be one where we become acutely aware of good causes and giving to others. I get plenty of charity appeals through the post and having written a lot of them in my previous life as a fundraiser I usually cast a professional eye over them and donate to the ones that I particularly feel an affinity with.

At Christmas I have a few causes I always give to including donations of clothes and blankets to homeless shelters. This year we have given to food banks all year round and I've recently been popping in mince pies and fruit cake and the odd bag of chocolate coins too. Everyone deserves special treats at Christmas don't they ?

We also found out about a toy drive to give toys to looked after children at Christmas which has been organised by the Met Police. I shared this with a few people and was amazed when some reacted really negatively to 'supporting the police.' That level of cynicism really disappoints me and it made me think about some of the campaigns that have captured the imagination in the last year and whether it's really about being 'charitable' or something else.

Fairly early on in the year we saw the phenomenon of the no make-up selfie which was not charitable in intent at first, but became about breast cancer. Plenty of women I know (and some men) posted selfies for this cause and I'm sure lots of them donated to breast cancer charities too. It really was a bit baffling to me.

More recently we saw the internet taken over by the ice bucket challenge. Celebrities, family members and pretty much everyone (and some pets) did this one. It was one of those, 'well they've done it so I will too' things, but I did admire Matt Damon's approach. He used toilet water to undertake the challenge and used the massive international interest in it to raise the issue of wasting water. As patron of a charity he highlighted how so much of the world does not have access to clean water to drink and wash never mind to tip over their heads for fun.

You probably already know how I feel about Movember, ie. men not shaving for a month to raise awareness of male cancers. Does looking like a hipster or a porn star (depending on what facial hair does for you) really improve the provision of health services for men ? Do more men check themselves or seek medical help as a result of this month long abstinence from shaving ? I genuinely don't know the answer, but if it's doing some good then why not ?

There was a moment earlier this year when a t-shirt caused a bit of stir. Not since 'Frankie Say Relax' did a slogan get so many hot so under the collar. I don't know if the t-shirt in question was manufactured in sweatshop conditions and I would hope that the decision to wear it would be left the individual. My question, however, is this: does wearing a T-shirt declaring you're a feminist deal with the gender pay gap ? Or online trolling of women ? Or Gamergate ? 

Way back when that designer bag declared ' I am not a plastic bag' it didn't have any discernible impact on climate change or - if my observations while shopping are anything to go by - on the behaviour of shoppers. The mad scramble to buy them made a mockery of the concept of 'reducing, reusing and recycling' as they changed hands for many times their real value online. 

I guess my point is that my politics don't fit on a t shirt. Charity is a political concept. The fact that it took a teenager with a life threatening disease to raise awareness and funds for cancer charities is shocking. That people were so willing to support the cause because Stephen Sutton asked them to is not.

Charity is a personal choice and how you do it is entirely up to you. If it's this time of year that tweaks a reaction - whether it's guilt or sympathy or generosity - then so be it. I give all year round and do what I can if I don't have much money. I've baked cakes for Macmillan, walked all night in the cold for breast cancer charities and rode a scooter around London wearing a onesie for Comic Relief.

I'll be honest, if I was doing any of these alone it would have been pretty grim, but there are always plenty of folks willing to join in with silly escapades. There will be a new one in March 2015 that I will tell you all about very soon.

For now I'm getting my legwarmers on and doing some warm ups - between bites of mince pie and handfuls of chocolates that is.

Ho ho ho !!

I appear alone, I'm really not :)

In the pink and walking in the moonlight

For months I've been walking and training for the Moonwalk. I decided to do it a while back and called my lovely friend Soraya to see if she was up for it and she said only that day she'd been thinking of something to do as a challenge and she agreed straight away. I had a speech all prepared to convince her, but I didn't need it. I've been walking in the rain, the wind and sometimes even the sun to prepare. My knees have been unpredictable and I've been worried on more than one occasion that they'd pack up. Soraya put her back out early on and it was touch and go if she'd be well enough to do it at all.

My streamlined Moonwalk outfit 

Last week I put together my outfit - it's pink and frou-frou, but I'd say it's essentially an athletic look isn't it ?

Then on Saturday night we got ready while Hubbie put the boy to bed. We packed water, protein bars and some fruit in small bags to carry with us on the route and wore fleece jackets convinced it would be warmer while we walked and we wouldn't need them.

Raring to go 

When we arrived at the Moonwalk tent the atmosphere hit us and when they had a minute of silence to think about why we were there I choked as my reason was standing right next to me. My friend was alive and that was why we were doing it. TEARS.

Tattooed ladies

The reason for doing it was simple, but the walk itself was anything but - that was brutal. It was cold, biting wind and long periods of standing around waiting for road crossings and bottle necks to clear. We never really picked up enough momentum to warm up. My legs ached and my head hurt from the cold. As it became light I perked up a bit and we made a big push to get to the finish.

A glass of wine to celebrate

When we finally finished we hugged and sobbed a bit and made our way home. Hubbie and the boy were waiting for us and after a cuppa and something to eat I got into the lovely hot bath Hubbie had run for me and listened to the radio. The boys went out for a swim and to do the shopping. When they got back I heard Hubbie 'shushing' the boy so as not to disturb me. I sent him a text message a while later to ask if they'd had a nice time - I was still like a zombie so moving wasn't an option. They came up to see me. "I'm proud of you Mummy," the little one said as he handed me some red roses.

I was too exhausted to cry again. 

And the best thing of all - we've raised over £1,500 for breast cancer charities :)

I'm incensed by this (incense, get it ?)

I last did the Moonwalk 5 years ago and often take part in the race for life - I used to do about 3 a year, now I do just the one. I don't like to hassle people so I really try only to ask for sponsorship for the big events which I'm putting some effort into taking part in. The Moonwalk is still the hardest thing I've taken part in (I'm including childbirth in this - yes seriously) although it's nothing compared with what anyone trying to survive a diagnosis of cancer is doing.

Which brings me onto a bug bear of mine that I've decided to voice here. The response I had from some people about donating to cancer charities. Now you choose what you give your money to and if you decide not to give to certain causes - or any - that is up to you. What I cannot understand is why some people feel the need to give out about how they disapprove of cancer treatment and get all judgey about it.

To be clear I think animal testing is abhorrent and I'm not impressed that cancer research charities essentially fund pharmaceutical companies to do research into treatments that they eventually charge money for. It's not exactly transparent is it ? What I have no right to comment on, however, is a person's decision to have chemotherapy or radiotherapy or any other drug treatment for their particular condition. I have been taken aback and horrified to see 'friends' making remarks about how it's evil and doesn't work because of what happened to their family or friends. I have two specific reasons for finding his behaviour reprehensible.

1. In the last few months I've been delighted that one of the fantastic midwives who took great care of us when my son was being born has fought and beaten her diagnosis of inoperable cancer. Penny was fit and healthy, practised yoga and swam daily. When she found out she had pancreatic cancer and probably only a few months to live she decided to fight it with a hardcore regime of chemo and radiotherapy and this week Penny had the operation that signifies she's beaten a cancer that kills 1 in five of those who have it.

2. One of my dearest friends who I'm walking the Moonwalk with was diagnosed with breast cancer and undertook a gruelling chemotherapy regime while also caring for her young son and elderly mother. We had long phone calls between chemo sessions and one day she spoke to me about how difficult it was. 'Friends' had suggested holistic therapies to her and she felt guilty that she was choosing to be 'poisoned' into killing the cancer. I talked to her about seeing the chemo as the thing that would make her well and that the massages and reflexology would be a lovely between treatments addition. If she could see it as making her well it had a better chance of working and the end result would be that she would be around for years with her young son and partner. Soraya is now fit and well - albeit with shorter hair. She writes a fab blog about her (mis)adventures with breast cancer here: Big C in 3G

Both of these women are alive because they had treatment. Both women love yoga and are keen advocates of alternative therapies, but they also chose to have 'conventional' treatment that means they are here now to be with their children and families. I also have plenty of friends and family who did not survive treatment and passed away. It is not fair, but it does happen.

I admire the work of Marie Curie Cancer Care and Macmillan nurses who took care of people I cared for very deeply. Walk the walk (the charity behind Moonwalk) was founded by a woman whose own experience of breast cancer informed what she felt was important in helping her to recover. Treatments and therapies including cold cap - that helps with hair loss during chemo - and centres to provide support and care including childcare during treatment all make a huge difference.

Cancer affects so many of us either directly or in a close friend or family member. It's fine to have an opinion. It's fine to believe that your way is the best way. It's not fine to share it when I've asked you to support or donate. You may well believe in sugar pills, or chanting, or wheatgrass and that is lovely for you. You don't, however, have any right to judge or castigate someone else for choosing to have a treatment that you would not have. Again for clarity, none of those who have made these 'helpful' remarks have ever had cancer, so it's all theoretical.

If you don't want to donate your silence will not be seen as offensive or require any explanation. Your desire to make comments that are unkind and unnecessarily cruel to someone who has made possibly the toughest decision of their life, however, is unwelcome. Just keep your comments to yourself.

As your Mum probably told you, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing.

If  you would like to sponsor me and Soraya in our efforts to walk a marathon between us overnight on 10th May you can do so here: Team Swazi and Soraya

Thank you xxx

I'd like world peace of course (and a flatter stomach)

Like most people and every Mum I know I have a to do list that is constantly updated and not always completed. I function better with a list of tasks to achieve and it is very satisfying to tick them off even if it's just 'feed the cat' rather than a proper job like 'change the sheets' - this one sits there almost as long as 'clean the fish bowl.'I don't cheat by adding jobs to the list that I've already done (mentioning no names Gemma !!!) but there are some that have been on there a long, long time. 

So, the latest *big* list is - in no particular order - as follows:

• Find a job that I love to do and that pays something - not a fortune, but enough for nice things like Waitrose shopping and a holiday. I love producing and presenting my radio show and writing this blog, but neither of them generates any reward beyond sheer joy that anyone is interested in them :o)

• If I can earn some money it will give me back some financial independence too. When I had my own flat I also had life insurance and Hubbie would like me to have some again so that he and the boy taken care of if anything happens. Life insurance tends to be tied to mortgages so if you're not the main breadwinner it's not considered a priority, but it doesn't seem strictly fair on the boys in my family if I don't have any, so I'd like to sort that out.  

• Lose weight - I know this is a very common wish amongst the women I know this one. I am so fed up with being chubby and it is as simple as stopping stuffing my face and getting off my butt to just do it. To motivate myself to achieve this I'm taking part in Walk the Walk next May with the lovely fellow blogger and real life friend Soraya to raise money for Breast Cancer charities. I'd better get fit by then -  even if it's only the half one - I did the full one a few years ago and it damn near killed me !! I'm also part of Team Honk's blogger relay from Lands End to John O'Groats so I'm not going to humiliate myself with all those super fit Yummy Mummy bloggers taking part. 

• Get the garage project started.  It's been on hold for 2 years now (ie. since we moved to this house) and we knew that the garage had to be rebuilt, but we just haven't got round to doing it yet. As I'm not working full time I should just get on with it really, but I know that it won't be a quick thing and I'm dreading the mess and chaos. 

• Decorate the boy's bedroom. I feel so guilty that we've never decorated his bedroom, but I didn't want to commit to a design scheme then have him decide he doesn't like it any more. I have mentioned before how the Barnaby the Bear wallpaper I'd loved aged 4 waned a little when I was 12. We are aiming to put his 'grown-up' (toddler) bed in the room and decorating it in time for Christmas. That way he will have a new room and lots of lovely presents all at once.

Finally, I would like take better care of myself. To get more sleep, wear my nice clothes rather than my comfy ones and think about my appearance again. I used to take time to choose what a I wore, my accessories, make up and hair and I just throw on what's closest (and clean) now. It's not good enough really.

 I'd like to make the effort a bit more so that Hubbie doesn't see me as a frumpy, grumpy wife and my boy doesn't see me as a lumpy, dumpy Mummy.

So there it is. Yes I'd like world peace, but for now I'll take a flatter stomach :o) 

Pink wings, a tutu and a Sunday in the park.

The hot weather this week has been lovely, but I was hoping it would settle down to a breezier weekend and moreover a cool Sunday. Not just because I'd prefer if men kept their shirts on please. Not just because being out of breath before I get to the bus stop is my idea of a bad start to the day. Not just because when it's really hot I am even grumpier than usual as I can't handle the heat for any prolonged period of time. No, none of these perfectly sensible reasons.

I want it to be cooler tomorrow because I'll be donning pink fairy wings, a tutu, deely boppers and a Hawaiian style lai in order to run race for life on one of the tougher courses I've done. It's not my first race for life, far from it I've done many of them and used to do a few each year. I haven't been running as much since I had my son and have only taken part in a few running events so deciding to do my first fancy dress run on possibly one of the hottest days I've ever run might not be the best decision.

It is important, however, because this year I have three people in mind for whom I am taking part. In the past I've run in memory of people and to celebrate friends who have made it through. This year for the first time I am running in memory of our dear neighbour who passed away a few weeks ago, in celebration of my lovely friend Soraya who has come out the other side of her journey with breast cancer and for our wonderful midwife Penny who is currently undergoing a chemo regime to fight the aggressive pancreatic cancer that has riven her family for generations.

We have become used to hearing the phrase that cancer touches everyone's life. In my childhood no one ever had cancer and we grew up believing that it just didn't affect indian people. I now assume that it just wasn't talked about openly so when our elderly great aunt passed away after years of illness it may well have been cancer, but no one said it was.

My father-in-law had a kidney removed a few years ago as it had developed a tumour, a few years ago my aunt found out after a biopsy that she had pancreatic cancer that had been caught early enough for her to survive and my brother-in-law had extensive surgery earlier this year to remove a pre-cancerous growth.

I don't for a moment believe that my wearing pink wings will make it better for anyone living with a diagnosis or who is currently fighting cancer or who has made it through a punishing regime of treatment. What I do hope is that my small gesture will make them smile and feel supported and noticed. I run Race for Life as a sign of respect for those people who are still around and to show them that their fight is not or has not been in vain.

If you can sponsor me any amount I'd be most grateful - I promise to post photos of me in full pink regalia in return for your kindness.

Sponsor me here - thank you

Twenty Twelve Vision

As everyone else is saying how rubbish 2011 has been I thought I'd offer my own review of a year that has been a bit of a curate's egg. I've watched Charlie Brooker's Newswipe and it pretty much encapsulated the news events for me, so I refer you to that for the newsy / political perspective done far better than I would have managed it.

The year began with a very close friend coming back from the dead. I mean properly actually dying then having the paddles to bring her back (like in the movies). I put it down to a desperate need for attention myself - it had been a few years since she got married and our friends live in other parts of the world so it took something radical  in order to get them to call. Mission accomplished. She is under strict orders not to repeat this so we're all waiting with bated breath to see what fresh capers she has planned…

I had my first Mother's Day as a mother this year. Of course my son was oblivous to the significance of this. In later years he may badly wrap a gift to give me, but for now I'm content that hubbie helps and we kid ourselves he has any idea what is going on. (I have deliberately left this dubious so you can decide who I mean).

In May we sold our house - the first home me and hubbie have owned together. The home we brought our son back from the hospital to. The home we brought Neo from Battersea Cats & Dogs Home to. Of course it took months to actually move (see Oct), but someone came to see it in May and said she'd buy it. Result !

To everyone else August in London was about lunatics in balaclavas nicking TVs from the walls of betting shops. For my family it was all about the "Monsoon Wedding" of my youngest sister complete with a flower strewn Ambassador and bangra rhythms. It was also a chance for Khushbir to dress up in his Bollywood finery and impress everyone by applauding at the speeches.

Having enjoyed a year of playgroups, back-to-back Come Dine With Me and cups of tea with other Mums the time came to return to work and in September I went back to a new location, but the same colleagues. I'm not sure if it just because I had been away and I missed my boy, but going back to work was truly hideous. The only silver lining in all this was that my boy had his first birthday at the end of September and we celebrated with cake and hats and singing so now he knows that the correct response to a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday is to put out his hand for a piece of cake. That's my boy !

After months of frantic phone calls between vendors, buyers, the bank, the estate agents and solicitors we finally moved house in October. We paid to have a company move all our belongings, which I admit does make life much simpler, but isn't entirely foolproof. We had boxes marked as containing curtains with kitchen items and picture frames in. I wasn't sure if this was simply a mistake or an elaborate attempt to make us laugh when unpacking. The final straw for me was having to wear the same two pairs of shoes for weeks until I looked in the box marked "baby's room" which had all my shoes in it the entire time !

In November after weeks of going into work and being pretty much ignored and sidelined I decided to leave. It wasn't the simplest decision, but one that having been made proved to be the best course of action. My work colleagues continued to ignore me and on my last day only two people actually wished me well. If I could be bothered I'd take up a case of constructive dismissal, but frankly being able to spend every day with my boy is the best outcome I could have asked for - regardless of how I came to it.

So we come to the last month of the year when I had already finished going into work and was able to concentrate on preparing for Christmas and more importantly the wedding of our own TOWIE stars. I love, love, love weddings and this one was in a fairytale setting (albeit in Essex) with the funniest best man's speech we've heard in a while.

My year began with a friend's health scare and it ends the same way. A good friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer and will be undergoing treatment in early January. She is my age and has a young son. Whatever else happens in 2012 we've already agreed to go shopping for wigs together and discussed how to wear scarves at a jaunty angle to cover hair loss.

I hope 2012 brings you happiness, good health an abundance of love and just enough wealth to not spoil you.