My mother's words of wisdom

Don't bother with resolutions and do get off the beaten track

Me and my mother, Sandie, on the beach at Holkham in Norfolk

Hello and happy new year to you! I hope you had a good festive break and 2023 is a happy and healthy one for you and yours.

If you’re hungover today and have ‘doom’ as my sister calls it, fear not, The Honesty Box is here to try to alleviate your ills and provide a brief pause in this day of scrolling.

I am not usually a fan of New Year’s Day but am attempting to change how I think about it.

Today, I get to lie in, go for a walk, eat cheese, catch up with friends and family, watch TV and have an early night, so really, what’s not to like?

On previous years I’ve had a serious case of the ‘poor mes,’ feeling lonely if I’ve been single, so resolution number one is to welcome this brand-new year with a smile on my face.

I’m not particularly good at making new year’s resolutions, but my aim is to spend less time scrolling and more time writing, exercising and generally seizing the day.

She always has a pair of garden scissors in the car along with spare waterproof trousers and a long stick should she need to get adventurous

About six months ago, I downloaded James Clear’s book Atomic Habits and have read about three pages (oh the irony), so perhaps I could start by revisiting that once the fug of last night’s cocktails has subsided.

And, alongside making small changes, I’m going to make a list of fun things I would love to do more of and set about picking two or three of those to pursue.

I asked my mother what she thinks of new year’s resolutions. She doesn’t bother with them any more, she says. Her new year aim is often to eat less sugary stuff, but she says that’s an annual goal that she hasn’t stuck to, so now she doesn’t make any resolutions.

My mum is always full of useful thoughts and advice (and the odd moan) and as I spent a few days with her in Norfolk last week, I thought I’d gather some of her words of wisdom.

My mum and I ended up in our little green hire car at the bottom of a mountain in a dry river bed in Cyprus

The cottage we stayed in was a little bare in terms of Christmas decorations.

So, on our first night, we went foraging down country lanes, in the pitch dark, gathering armfuls of ivy to go with the little red roses and white narcissus my mother brought with her.

Back in the cottage, we laid our spoils out along the windowsill and mantelpiece, adding sprigs of rosemary we found too. Make do with what’s around you, is her first piece of advice. “Don’t go out and spend money if you don’t have to,” she says.

My mum always takes a bunch of flowers with her if she goes away, usually picked from her garden, and for any foraging requirements she always has a pair of garden scissors in the car along with spare waterproof trousers and a long stick should she need to get adventurous in the undergrowth.

“Why does everything have to be ‘award-winning’? Why can’t things just be ‘normal’?”

She also likes to get off the beaten track - something I’ve inherited.

Once, that involved following Google Maps’ errant directions down a dirt road in Cyprus where my mum and I ended up in our little green hire car at the bottom of a mountain in a dry river bed.

I managed to navigate out of it and onto a sealed road, after a Cypriot man with a cigar and a four-wheel drive sped past us, laughing.

One of the seven wonders of my mother’s world is the tiny shop in the Norfolk village of Itteringham

Anyway, in Norfolk our adventures were a little more sedate. A couple of days ago, after swerving multiple dog owners to walk along the beach at Holkham, an estate on the coast, we gave up on visiting the stately home’s shop where it costs £5 to park and instead went to Burnham Overy Staithe, where the only facilities are a barn with a broken hot drinks machine and a few parking spaces overlooking the marshes.

“This is a proper place,” my mum declared as she turned up the Christmas carol CD in the car (“Christmas lasts 12 days, you know,” she reminded me).

Barely anyone was around, and if you ever find yourself in Burnham Overy Staithe, there is a glorious walk across the marshes that is less dramatic than Holkham but equally beautiful.

There are plenty of things my mum doesn’t like. On the way into the north Norfolk market town of Holt, we passed a sign that said it is ‘award winning’.

“Why does everything have to be ‘award-winning’? What awards are they anyway? Why can’t things just be ‘normal’?” She asked. I tend to agree.

Another word that gets overused is ‘iconic,’ she points out. “What does it mean?” she asks, exasperated. It’s true, both of these descriptions are cliches, as are your “dream home” or a “luxury holiday.”

My mum simply prefers things to be natural and untampered with, and doesn’t spend her nights dreaming of a shiny house with a new kitchen, for example (“kitchens look like operating theatres these days, all gleaming white and stainless steel”) or wishing she was at a beach on an all-inclusive drinking champagne for breakfast.

Apologies to anyone who ate my home-made mince pies this year. I used a packet of dried fruit, sell by 2017

Instead, one of the seven wonders of her world is the tiny shop in the Norfolk village of Itteringham that doubles as a Post Office, newsagent and cafe and is run by volunteers. Astonishingly, it has been there since 1637, and is a fantastic pitstop on a walk or cycle ride around the area. Definitely a ‘proper place’.

Part of my mother’s ethos is to do with being a post-war baby. She was born in 1945, so she spent her early years with rationing, giving her a make do and mend philosophy.

Communities had to pull together, dogs had a real purpose (such as guarding or moving sheep - don’t get my mum started on small, fluffy ‘toy dogs’) and people made an effort to dress smartly despite the country’s hardship.

Some of my mother’s other words of wisdom:

• Chipped nail varnish lets down a whole outfit (I agree, though my two-week-old bright red gel polish is flaking as I write. Eeek.)

• Sell-by dates are arbitrary: the best way to assess food’s freshness is by smell, taste and common sense (I agree, though apologies to anyone who ate my home-made mince pies this year. I used a packet of dried fruit, sell by 2017. Everyone is still alive, I think.)

• Long hair does not suit older women (I disagree. Think Andie MacDowell, Julianne Moore, Diana Ross…)

Anyway, let me know what words of wisdom you’d add, and I hope you have an award-winning, iconic, luxurious 2023.

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