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How to Through A Larger Than Life Small Wedding on a Budget

This one is as simple as crowdfunding your honeymoon. It might sound strange at first, but do you really need another blender or set of dinner plates? Instead of having your guests purchase a bunch of things you’ll end up trying to return anyway, why not let them chip in for…

Tips to Spring Clean Your Home

With Spring arriving it is time to start Spring Cleaning your house.…

How Due Date Calculators Can Change Your Pregnancy for the Better

Learning that you are pregnant can be one of the most joyous occasions in a woman’s life. As many of us know pregnancy can happen spontaneously or after much trying.  Regardless of how a woman becomes pregnant, it is vitally important for her to know when she…

You know last week, how I introduced you to the digable, sprinkable, squeezable splendour t...? Well this week I've found something else for you. It is something about which I feel equally passionate, fervent and obsessive. Because it is absolutely r-u-b-b-i-s-h.

That stupid burning orange ball.

It sits there in the blue stuff glaring down at us with its hot shinyness and bullies my body into oozing the slick, greasy liquid that spills from my brow and seems intent on dripping in my eyes. It even tries to impair my vision when I am in the important business of hitting stuff, a time when I certainly don't need beads of sweat clouding my judgement - the force with which I clang stuff together could easily see me lose one of the teeth I haven't even got yet. And not only does it get in my eyes, but it makes my armpits stick together. And it smells like Dad's shoes. I don't like it.

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