Mind Yersel'

03/08/2025

Dragged ourselves out last night, no seriously DRAGGED, to go and see james playing a free concert 59 minutes from our front door.

Never did I think a day would be possible where I needed to force myself to go to a gig, especially a free one! 😂

Anyway, you all know it's been a rough week but in honour of Alive As F**k month 2025 I began with a wee dance, gentler than I'd like and I will definitely pay for it...
What a way to begin though.

Music is everything to me. I cry every single time I experience live music. Dancing soothes my soul in ways it's hard to describe. Sound.
Frequency. Collective energy. Movement. Intention. It's just everything.
If I hadn't been reminded of my Alive As F**k (AAF) 2024 memory I might not have made it last night. So glad I did. My post from exactly one year ago reminded me of the importance of looking back, sometimes, just long enough to remember what it is you need to go forward again. Thank. You. Me. 😂

The next thing I'm going to do in AAF style has taken me two whole years. I've been asked countless times if it exists, my fast reply was NO (but thank you). It's been an impossible task to complete when I eventually got my head around it, and, let me be real for a moment, it still scares the s**t out me a fair amount, but, that's my imposter talking. So, I'm feeling the fear and doing it anyway.
Might seem silly when you see what it is, but in my launch post I will explain why...

🌟 Tomorrow night around 8pm, all will be revealed. It's part of our keep moving forward plan and it's time to do everything we can to make everything Mind Yersel' has become and will continue to be more possible.

Fear the fear, do it anyway, Alive As F**k 2025.

Ps, is there anything you think I should do as part of this, or suggestions of things I might do. It's been a while since I pushed myself into really new things. Talk to me...

Mind Yersel' ❤️

02/08/2025

One year ago today I said to myself...

Well, it's here. August. I've been kinda dreading it. A bit of me at first, tried to avoid that feeling. "It's just a month the same as any other" my logical brain has been screaming.
"It's that month, 1 year from that day, it's ok to feel anxious" my emotional brain whispers.
My emotional brain is right. It is ok. The minute I stopped fighting it, the quieter my mind became. My body stopped shaking.

‼️Trigger warning - injury & death. Stop if you must, it's really ok. ❤️

Here's what I've decided and I'm lucky that the anxiety I do experience occasionally is managable within a day or so, so it means I actually do get a choice here. F**k anxiety. F**k anniversaries, the bad ones at least! F**k being held in fear of a date. Most importantly f**k it because it's passed. It happened already. It's the past.

Today, I'm ok. Most of my todays are ok. I do wonder if I will ever be pain free, they tell me I will so I believe them. The important thing though is I'm recovering. I'm smack bang in recovery. I was 3mm from being paralysed. Actually, I could have died. I honestly thought when I was lying baking in that 39 degree sun, alone with no shelter, that I was going to die. I knew my back was broken. I knew I'd no choice but to lie there and hope help came first. I've thought about it a lot and that's the thing that still has the biggest imprint on my mind from that day. I really didn't want to die. There have been times throughout my life when dying felt like the easier option. Like it would be the only option for relief in fact. I've never said that to most people, so saying that here is tough. I need to be clear though, I wasn't suicidal in the way people often think of it. I just wanted my life as it was to end. There's a huge difference. Please believe that the difference is everything. This is also true for many people, but it's a difficult thing to articulate when you're deep in the dark cloud. Through my work I've helped many others reach the same conclusion.

Now, when I reflect on that imprint I don't get stuck in the whirlwind of "what if you died?". I didn't. I now realise that imprint is a gift. How beautiful a gift to realise how desperate you are to live. To feel, to do, to risk, to dance, to hurt, to be, to love. To just live. Healing isn't linear. F**k me, is anything difficult linear? I'm laughing a lot. Physical healing isn't linear and neither is mental healing. I'm ok with that. Sometimes the darkest parts give you the brightest realisations. Almost dying really did light up how much I want to live.

So here's my decision, this August is gonna be "I'm alive as f**k" month for me. I dunno what that looks like in detail but I'm gonna celebrate the f**k out of being alive. This month, I'm gonna dance, the thing I have missed most - I will take the pain that follows. I'm here for it all. It's the thing I need to feel like me. I'm not gonna get lost or dwell. I'm gonna celebrate the f**k out of being alive.

August is gonna have some treats for you lot too. Just as a thank you. It's well out my comfort zone, but I'm getting there with the plans. The tiny way I can say thank you, that you all deserve, is coming. This page might be the best therapy I've ever experienced and that's because of each of you.
Big love!

I'm on day 14 of this cold water thing. It still takes me an age to get in. John thinks I torture myself, he's probably right. My first challenge to help me feel alive as f**k is to jump straight in. I will do this, she says shakily 🤣😂

If you got this far, round of applause. Tell me, what makes you feel alive as f**k?

Mind Yersel' ❤️

**The photos are my broken vertebrae before the op, some of the screws after the op, and for good measure my scars. It's important we don't hide those. Whatever they look like.

This year, despite everything I've decided to go again, Alive As F**k month 2025 a go! 🌟

01/08/2025

"I can't cope with this for one more f**king day". Me, out loud 3pm yesterday.

The last two days were really rough.
No explanation, no "reason", just the climax of
pain that's been building for a couple of weeks. It got to the "I can't cope" moment at 10pm on Tuesday night, then it settled, just enough for the tears to stop, but by 3pm yesterday I was so. f**king. done.
Even as I type this I'm tired of listening to myself. I don't even want to write this part, the boring bit you're all sick of hearing.
In my mind I can hear you, "we know Lauren, you broke your back, it hurts, we know, change the f**king tune..." I hate it. Sometimes. I hate that this has been my life for two whole years, well, minus 18 days. August the 19th 2023. I was 38 years old. I'm now half way through 40. There's still a bit of me today, this morning, right now that f**king hates that.
I'm rarely angry, so, knowing me well now, that means I'm hurting. But not just physically.
"Can you feel any emotion under the anger?" a question I ask clients often, and here I am whispering it to myself, again.
Of course I can I snap back, I'm f**king devastated. Sadness, sprinkled with rage, today, equals devastation. I don't know if that's warranted but it's how I feel and that means it's at least valid.
This next bit might sound crazy, but when I feel done, like I did yesterday I often scream at the sky. I'm not sure why. It's not like the higher power I believe in isn't everywhere. It's not like it's locked in a sky box and you have to shout in that direction to be heard, but I do. I shout my questions upwards, I direct my rage, sadness, helplessness, whatever it is that I'm feeling to the sky.

I promised you all almost five years ago I'd be honest as possible, so, here it is...
Recently I've had times where I've thought of leaving the farm. Giving up this part of what "this" is. There have been times where it's just seemed impossible to carry on here. Tuesday night was one of they times and I spoke it out loud, for the first time. To John. He got it. Of course, he gets it. He's lived these last two years right by my side and for that I'm also devastated, because this hasn't just impacted my life, but his too. In the s**ttiest of ways.
I cried and snottered a lot. I spoke my deepest fears out loud, because ultimately they are real and they're getting louder instead of quieter. He listened gently, he understood. He just let it be. That's exactly what I needed it, it was exactly enough.
As I walked to bed alone, this time instead of shouting to the sky, I whispered.
"If I'm really meant to be here, if I have to keep going, I need a sign, a really clear sign, I just need you to tell me, cause I'm nearly done."
Theyre usually good at letting me know, but they've gone a bit silent recently, I make it sound like that's their fault. Really what I mean is I'm not listening properly. Sometimes the pain is too loud to hear, this I know. Anyway, rewind a bit.

I've watched butterflies land on people a good few times. It's never, ever happened to me. It's actually on my bucket list believe it or not. Which is ridiculous probably, because I can't actually make it happen. Or can I?
I've always believed that if I can be still enough, calm enough, gentle enough, vibrate at just the right frequency then it will happen. But, nope, none of that worked.
40 years of "trying."
Until yesterday. It happened.
It was all wrong, I was sobbing, couldn't see the blue sky for my tears, tears I'm sick of. I wasn't still, I definitely wasn't calm and f**k knows what frequency I was vibrating at yesterday, but it didn't feel like the "right one", and yet... it happened. This beautiful butterfly chose me. Not just for a brief second either, there was a moment when I said to John, "du think this is my life now, stuck in this position to protect this wee being?".
It stayed with me for ages. Honestly, ages!
It moved back and forward, it even felt like it was stroking my thumb at times.
A bit like hand holding.
I took countless photos, a video that's too blurry to see a thing and we bonded. We chatted, it made me still. The tears from pain stopped and just for that short time I felt no pain. I don't know where it went, maybe it never left, maybe it did, I really don't know but I didn't feel it and that was everything.
Inside that space was hope. It held my hand until I found hope again.
It's actually more special than my bucket list moment dream, because what happened next blew my tiny mind.
It left me and went to John!
As I was frantically trying to identity it, it sat with him. It turns out it's a totem species.
A Grayling. Quite a symbolically special little being. It was a message, loud and clear.
It wasn't finished though. As I read to John the meaning... "let go of your fears and know that there is a way through the adversity, the struggles will be overcome..." it landed on me again. On my leg. Twice in one f**king day.
I'd waited a lifetime. Twice.

I know people associate butterflies with loved ones and those who've died, I've never really. Not really really. In my mind I've always known it'd take something special to feel that Ryan's energy was transmuted into a butterfly and he was coming to say hello. This land is abundant with butterflies of every size and colour and not once have I thought, that's Ryan saying hello. Not because I don't believe he can, or could, but just because I've known it wasn't "him". Yesterday was different.
There was a song sung at Ryan's funeral, it's called If I Were A Butterfly.
Yesterday, without a shadow of doubt he was a butterfly. Yesterday this little being was everything I needed. I've been a bit lost of late. Lost in the worry of how I feel each day, fear of having to give up the farm, lost in that my whole identity has become this project at times and I don't know if that's a good thing. If we "fail", what then?
Lost is a scary place to be. I don't want to lose me again. Even for this.

Here's the kicker though, it's actually all just simply mental because I know why I broke my back. I've touched on it before, I found out on the Thursday after the Saturday it happened.
It's a story I've not been able to share here. A story that I don't think people will take well (even I haven't a clue what I mean by this!?) and a story that I'm not sure will be believed.
Anyone who has heard it has disagreed, granted there's not many people, but they think I need to share it.
I think I've made a mistake.
I've been feeling a bit lost because I've strayed from the one thing I promised, to just be me.
I've let the fear of what it means win.
It's time for the story to come, I don't make up the rules, I don't know why it needs to be shared here, but who am I to question all that.
It's been almost two years exactly and it's a story for August. I promise myself.
I promise you.
What better way to celebrate my anniversary 😂

This was a long one, thank you if you got this far, I doubt anyone did. If you feel in anyway that someone might benefit from this rambling then please share this. I guess our stories are the first way to help others feel less alone in theirs and that's all I really want.

Thank you for allowing me to be everything that I am, vulnerable, a bit mental, rambling, sense making and well, just me.

If I Were A Butterfly....

Mind Yersel' ❤️

30/07/2025

Should we cry together?

TRIGGER warning - grief.

This is a question I've been asking myself for a while. I've decided that I don't know the answer. Maybe there isn't one. Not a one fits all kinda answer anyway. That left me thinking, is there ever?
When I'm unsure or processing now, it often becomes a post. So here I am again.
Except this time I need your help, please.
It's not all about me. This is about you too.

The question resurfaced this week when I was contacted by a woman I barely know but I really like. Definitely admire and who recently, has shown such a raw and vulnerable side in her very recent loss and deep grief that to me has been breathtakingly beautiful. I won't name this woman, it wouldn't be right of course, but she's inspired me into opening up about this question that has bothered me for a long time.
Thank you ❤️

Her message was a simple one, offering me love and support for our first retreat here. Sharing her hope to visit us soon, to experience a retreat herself.
Especially because she has just lost her husband.
He died.
Her grief journey has begun.
I'm certain without her consent.

I'm sure you all know why I'm here, why we're in Portugal. Why Mind Yersel' was born.
Thanks, and I really do mean thank you now to my grief journey.
Ryan died.
My grief journey began, without my consent.

When you become a Counsellor you're taught that it's not against the rules as such to cry with your clients but it's probably not ok. Most likely not appropriate. That it would sit on an ethical boundary fence. Infact, it likely means you're not ready and have work to do on yourself. I agree with the last part in full.
We will always have work to do on ourself.

When I was employed as a Counsellor for other organisations, or when I worked within the community in truly heartbreaking situations, I held my tears in. I actively fought them, sometimes my whole working day.
I never wanted to be in appropriate. I never wanted to make my client feel worse, doubt my competence or emotional stability. I never wanted to park my arse on an ethical boundary.
I held my tears in, against every instinct.
There was obviously something wrong with me.
I had work to do on myself.
Maybe I should find another job.
The worries I used to hold tightly to.

A few days ago, when I received the message I'm talking about I was so grateful, it was so kind. I was genuinely touched that this person could take the time amongst their living hell to reach out.
I was surprised they wanted to come here - I always am. I'm working on that.
I was in Lidl.
I was immediately filled with tears. I held them in, at first. Not because I was in Lidl, I have cried in the weirdest of places. I held them in because the suggestion of me holding space, holding the hand of someone deep in their grief meant it was inappropriate for me to cry.

I stopped. I asked myself why.
Why I am not allowed to feel.
Why I am not allowed to empathise.
Why I need to close down my human self.
Why I need to supress my natural response.

Can I really not hand hold and feel?
Can I really not hold space with tears on my face?

I have reflected on this since, and I promise you the tears weren't mine.
They weren't because I'm too deep in my grief to hold someone in theirs.
They weren't the unhealed parts of my journey with grief. If they were, they wouldn't have come out in Lidl. If they were untouched and raw, they would have hidden in fear and shame.
My tears, were because I could feel what this woman had to face. Her despair. I could understand loss.
I know healing was possible. But, f*ck what a road to travel.
I had tears because I'm human.
Humans cry. We're supposed to.

In the past, grief counselling scared me. My endless grief journey was the one thing I never felt I would be able to overcome enough to be useful or helpful to others.
The one space I couldn't hold safely.
That scared me and brought real shame.
That was my unhealed parts.
There was no need to worry.
It was just my tears hiding.

What I do here and intend to do so much more of is so different to all my previous learning.
It's gentler. Kinder. Softer.
It has deeper connection.
Less rules, but more power.
It's more human.

I had tears because I'm healing.
I had tears because I'm human.
Humans cry. We're supposed to.
Maybe we're supposed to cry together?

Whatever your answer to this is, agreeing or disagreeing, I'd genuinely love your thoughts feelings and response.

Should we cry together?

Mind Yersel' ❤️

*On a side note, I never asked my Aunty Karen for permission to post this photo of her, sorry Kaz! I know ye actually won't mind though, how could ye. Look at it, it's gorgeous. Us, smiling all the smiles with our wee Ryan.

This was first posted in 2023, 2 years later and I couldn't haven't written it better so I needed to say it again ❤️

28/07/2025

I've added an extra day to my weekend today for a few reasons, one cause I'm shattered! 😂
Two, because Erin my daughter is here and finally... Three, because I can! 😍

What a luxury this simple Monday is, so grateful for every single minute 🙏
Just a wee quick update...

It seems the tech gods are against me and the hours and hours of work that went into creating my mailing lists and email scheduling for the event and STKO have been bloody pointless. An old version of me would have cried and been up the wall...
Instead of stressing because there's absolutely ZERO need, I'm making it a tomorrow problem to resolve. I have a few ideas and solutions I'm working on, but for anyone waiting on updates please know it will get resolved and we've still almost six weeks until the event, so there isn't a reason in the world to worry.

Thank you to everyone who's keeping up with the fast world that is Mind Yersel' right now!
Sometimes I struggle because there's SO many incredible things happening, so hats off!!

Hope you've all had a chill day too and remember, slow down, things normally get done faster that way.

Here's to not stressing, not worrying and just breathing the day away.

Mind Yersel' ❤️

24/07/2025

🌟⛰️ MOVING MOUNTAINS BEECHBRAE event 6th & 7th of September UPDATE ⛰️🌟

ALL emails now sent for the first official update regarding this event. If you are booked to come for one or both days and have NOT received this email then please get in touch. It's really important, all future information will be sent via email.

The lunch option is detailed within this update and how to order is also included!
Don't miss our deadline date of August 20th or ye will go hungry 😂

Thank you all so far for your patience, support and we canny wait for this to happen! 😍

Get yer scran on and,

Mind Yersel' ❤️

Shares of this from everyone would really help visibility and let yer pals know if they're booked too! ❤️

20/07/2025

I woke up this morning with a little fear in my belly. It's quite unusual these days, so it deserves some attention.

First. Let me try and explain something else.
I get asked all the time, how do you cope with the pain? Are you able to Mind Yersel' right now? Inevitably the next question is, what kinda things do you do?
This tells me lots of you resonate with a lot of what I write about here but maybe that I'm not explaining what I "do" often enough.
It's probably because it's not that easy to answer. There's no set of rules. It changes, sometimes even in one day it can look totally different. I've decided over the next week to write a bit about the things I "do" though.
It will be good for me too, to reflect and review. To "notice what I'm noticing."
One of my favourite pieces of advice ever. Thank you Mr Tolle. (The Power of Now).

As you know from yesterday's post, these last few days the pain has been new and different, it always throws me when there's a change. I kinda forget what I know and assume none of it works because everything has changed. The thing is though, pain is pain. How I cope and how my body responds is usually 1 of 3 things. Moving, resting or a bit of both. The only thing that really changes is the balance of each. It's funny I forget that, every bloody time 😂.

Anyway. Back to the belly fear. It used to come from too many pints, or too much rum. That icky Sunday morning belly drop, followed by either hiding from the world, or hair of the dog! Like I've said many times here, I wasn't addicted to alcohol, I just loved a sesh!
I didn't stop because I had to but instead I stopped by accident. I often say I feel lucky, maybe I just got there first. But the fear is something anyone who drinks has experienced and no matter your relationship with alcohol, it's just s**te.

Where did the fear come from this morning though, zero alcohol was consumed last night. I don't drink anymore. So WTF is going on? Then, it hit me. I'm distracted from my mind, I'm too much in my body and not in a good way. All my mind can hear is my body saying the horrible stuff. "You're too broken to be mended". "This will never end". "This is your life now, agony, immobile and incapable". "Don't even bother trying, there's no point".
And on, and on... And on...

The thing is though, because I've heard it all before I didn't really pay attention. Or, so I thought. Our conscious thinking is very different to our sub and unconscious thinking.
I made a mistake. I didn't ACTIVELY not listen.
Ye see, no matter how long you've been doing "the work", no matter how many times you've repeated "the lesson", if these negative thoughts seep in to your thinking and start to frame how you feel and you're not noticing, or you don't actively fight them, they win.

This morning the fear told me that my September event will be a disaster. That MOVING MOUNTAINS BEECHBRAE has already failed. It told me I'm not good enough and I shouldn't be trying. It told me the last event was luck and I'm just going to make a tit of myself. It also told me that our meet up on Tuesday, STICK THE KETTLE ON was a red neck. It's exact words, the fears. It told me all the retreats planned for 2026 are off, do it, cancel them. Refund every poor soul.

At first it shook me a bit, it was all sitting in my stomach. I felt actually sick. It was right.

Lightbulb moment. Back in to my mind. A whisper... "notice what you are noticing...".

None of this thinking is actually mine. Well, I mean it's me thinking it but it doesn't belong to me. It's the fears. I don't want it. I am actively choosing not to keep it. I used to be all fire, not anymore, I'm a lot more water these days. But, the way I fight fear is with fire. Feel the fear and do "it" anyway. Jump.
So here I am. Being vulnerable. Sharing my fears. Sharing my Sunday morning thinking. Being the unfinished article. Showing you in real time how I Mind Myself. Immediately I posted in our STKO group confirming Tuesday night. Asking for last minute emails so more people can join. I'm not hiding. F**k that. Secondly, I began this post. The world out there might be scary, but I refuse to be scared. I'm present. I'm noticing what I am noticing. I'm stepping into my vulnerability, not running from it.
I'm not listening.

I know what it means, the pain won a bit.
But, I've been here before. I know what to do. Rest, a little. Move, a little.
Breath.
Write.
Finally, get in the water and wash that s**te away.

That's it folks, that's my magic wand.
For me, it works. That's good enough.

It's not been easy to write this and share it.
Sometimes being vulnerable can feel like failure to me, even now after 5 years here.
In my heart I know it's a superpower though. So, here I am.

I would ask you to share this so if there's anyone else needing to hear these words then they can.

Superpowers are much more simple than we imagine. We hold them ALL already.

This video would have been impossible (in my mind) before my accident. I will NEVER be too broken to MEND.
As long as I remember to Mind Myself.

I almost apologised for this being long, instead of that, I'm going to thank you for reading.

Today I'm just grateful, for it all.
Even the fear.

Mind Yersel' ❤️

19/07/2025

Chronic pain feels like torrential rain, laced with spikes as thin as the strands of a spiders web, but that exist in their millions, and they're strong, stronger than all my willpower.
Bastards.
Not only are they able to pe*****te every area of your body, but also seep into your mind, cover your soul, f**k, even your actual existence. That's how it feels for me.
Sometimes.

It's Saturday morning, I'm trying so hard not to be miserable here, cause I'm really not. But, I need to also be real. I dunno what's happened, or why it's suddenly happening now, but my pain has changed. It's grown.
My cervical spine is now my enemy too. Well, at least that's how it feels. Night five of nerve pain radiating from neck to forehead, jaw to toe. Collar bone included. That one makes me want to rip it out. Ugggh. I came here to say I'm quiet because I'm mostly just tired. I'm a bit "behind" on my to do list and I feel a bit obligated to share the whys. I know there's a lot of unfinished conversations between us. We've a lot to plan. It's on my mind. This isn't an excuse, it's just the reality. I promise you though, I'm not miserable. In between all this I'm actually having the BEST time with family. I cannot wait for my girl to join us all next week and there's so much sunshine within the day to day that it'd nearly be impossible to feel the "pain rain" if it wasn't so overwhelming.

This photo reminds me a bit of how I'm feeling. Every brides worst nightmare, rain on the big day. It wasn't mine though, I wasn't arsed about small things like that. We were prepared. It was actually beating down right up until I began to walk down my "aisle". A beautiful forest path, "too many miles long" according to Erin, my Maid of Honour, who's ideas of an aisle to walk was very different to mine 😂. Granted it was steep as f**k, incredibly slidey and thick with gloopy mud. What a laugh! We had these umbrellas up for about 90 seconds before the service began at exactly 2.22pm, just as planned. The rain cleared. Like magic. I'm so glad it rained though because I love the few photos we have with the brollies.
Not once did I worry about my hair getting wet, or my dress being covered in mud, none of the small stuff mattered. The sun came out and everything was just as it was meant to be.

Trust me, I'm not saying it's easy to think of my broken spine as a storm and the pain rain as something that will pass when the sunshine comes, it's f**king hard when I'm in the trenches, really hard. It's also just how it feels though. It has purpose. Somehow.
This, I know.
It took me 5 whole days to understand why I broke my back. It's not something I've felt ready to share here. I don't know how to. I don't even know why not. Maybe because it's huge. Maybe because I worry that none of you will believe me. Maybe because I've not fully accepted what it means yet.
Maybe or maybe not. It's hard to know when the clouds are dark and the pain rain is always looming. But, it's real, it happened and it will come. I will write it, soon, I think.

What I do know is that I'm so ready for this journey of recovery to be over. I never thought I'd want an operation so much in my life. My Surgeon, Mr Carvalho, is pretty certain there's a big f**k off light waiting at the end of this rainy tunnel and I believe him.
I trust him. Not because I have to, but because I know that all this has a purpose.
It's part of the plan.
In the meantime I'm going to try every technique I have to keep the pain rain at bay. I'm going to do what I tell you lot over and over to do and be "gentle with myself."
Know that it's ok to be honest. To step back. To not have everything absolutely right 💯 of the time. To just be.

That's my message to you all this beautiful Saturday morning. Know that the rain can and will come, but also, remember it will pass.
Soak up the sunshine so it gets you through the cloudy days. More than that, just be.

Be you. Be honest. Just be.

Mind Yersel' ❤️

17/07/2025

16/07/2025

💛 HELP 💛

Our MOVING MOUNTAINS BEECHBRAE event, (🌟sold oot🌟) September 6th and 7th is getting really close! You can attend the full weekend for free, lunch provided, (that's around 10 workshops to participate in with an overnight camping inside the venue 😜, should you wish). All you have to do is fill our remaining VOLUNTEER position 🤩

What do we need? NO cooking. Pre-made food set up and necessary top up, as well hot and cold drinks refilled.
Full clear up after as well.
That's IT!! About 3 hours max in total each day 😊

Our already filled VOLUNTEER spot is a really kind, fun, reliable and gentle 21 year old who actually volunteered with us on the farm for 4 weeks. She had so much fun, she's coming back, but to support us in Scotland this time!

If this speaks to you, or you know someone who might be keen then please tag them, shares of this are REALLY important or about 9 folk will see it and John will be raging he's on the dishes himself 😂😂😂

Help keep these wee faces smiling!!

Ps, how is it less than 8 weeks away already?!?!

Absolutely BUZZIN'!

WHO'S ALL COMING? Anybody excited?

Have a beautiful day,

Mind Yersel' ❤️