And so to Morocco…

Over two weeks has passed since my last rambling. I’ve worked. I’ve shopped. I’ve cleaned. I’ve (semi) packed. I’m (semi) ready to go on holiday tomorrow!

Technically, said holiday could be called a Honeymoon; I have been married for little over a year now, but due to work commitments and a lack of time we never had a honeymoon. It’s not going to be your average, sickly-romantic affair though, oh no! We’re off the hectic hustle of Marrakech for a week. We have no plans other than to explore, and hope to do a trip into the Atlas mountains. It’s just me, the husband, and week to absorb the magic of the medina. Part of me is a little apprehensive about our choice of destination; it’s a very conservative Muslim country so flesh on show is not welcomed (not that I ever have much on show, but in 30 degree heat a pair of shorts would’ve been nice), and there’s no beach. We’ve got a teeny tiny pool at the Riad in which we are staying which I have no doubt will become our sanctuary when we want escape the chaos of the city and the souks; but no beach to spend a few days aimlessly sunbathing on. On the other hand, I’m really excited about visiting such a different place; just the thought alone makes me feel alive. And when I described it as unromantic, I suppose the notion of my husband and I visiting somewhere foreign to us, where we can explore and experience new things together, is in itself romantic. Who am I kidding; it’s hot, it’s intense, and it’s hectic.

So why on earth did we chose to go there? Food for starters (oo, good pun jen). Moroccan tagines, couscous, minted tea, flat breads with Harissa, cakes, spices, cinnamon. Get. Me. To. The. Plane. Now. (Just google “Moroccan food” and youll be hungry) Aside from food, it’s great to barter for leather good, woven goods, bags, shoes. There’s a history; it’s not a place about tourism, it’s a place with tourism and a whole lot more. I hate this phrase, but its got culture. (everywhere has culture, that’s obvious, but you know what I mean – that drenched-in-history kind of a feel).

And so to Marrakech! Let’s just hope The Husband doesn’t trade me in for a camel…

On a side note, my current favourite blog is C&C this girl is awesome! Be sure to check her out for tips on up-cycling and clothes making. I love her.

Lost at sea

I’ve always been one of those people with plenty of ability, but no real direction in which to apply it. I remember having the feeling of being lost at sea when I was at high school, but in calm waters. Everyone I knew knew which subjects to pick, which grades they needed to get, which career they wanted to take. I, however, liked all subjects (other than German and music – not my forté), always had good grades, but had no idea where/how to apply them. “Make an appointment with the careers advisor”. Dutifully, I did just that. What did I learn from the meeting? I learned that careers advisors needed to get new jobs. Why on earth anyone thought a 30minute chat with a total stranger would map out the rest of my life was beyond me – and clearly them too. One of said advisors got me to to answer numerous multiple choice questions in order to identify a ‘field of common interest’ for me, which would subsequently denote a career pathway. What did I come out with at the end of it? “you’d be most suited to a career in wig making or accountancy”. Thanks for that, it’s what every fourteen year old girl dreams of.

The point of this anecdote? I found myself with that same feeling today. I now have a career that I love, that involves lots of critical thinking and quick decision making (which I should probably spend atriflelonger revising) and yet when I found myself with a couple of hours to spare on a overcast, autumnal day I couldn’t decide what to do with it! I had my sewing machine set up on the kitchen table, and I had plenty of smallish pieces of colourful fabrics, with numerous ideas of what I could make; but instead I pondered all afternoon at various projects online until I hadn’t enough time to do any of them. Classic Jennifer.

I did find some rather lovely blogs though; my favourite find had to be how about orange . It had so many wonderful makes, all of which looked good quality, but achievable to even the novice sewer (that’s me).

Perhaps tomorrow I’ll actually make it to stitching. The possibilities are endless…

It’s all in a name

If ever I needed proof that I am a first class procrastinator, this blog is it. After spending a short while toying with what I should call this little area of cyberspace, and coming up with multiple topics I could post about, I have (until now) managed to not post a darn thing. And now, when I have a pressing deadline career-wise, I find myself sitting here merrily typing away.

I love food – and I particularly love to bake. I also love to picture myself clutter-free and well organised. And I love a good pun. That’s how I came up with the ridiculous title for this blog; If only I spent a-trifle-longer on finishing things off, rather than browsing the Internet, or day dreaming aimlessly, I would achieve that little image of perfection – like the ones you see in home-y magazines and on lifestyle blogs. Of course, having walked this earth for a good 24 years, I know that primarily I’m best at procrastinating, and as such I shall muddle my way through various topics on here whilst I have other things pressing, and visa versa.

Lost already? Stick with me and it’ll all become a little clearer in the days and weeks to follow.