My Canvas Story: Mummy Barrow

Today, we introduce you to Mummy Barrow. She writes a rather wonderful blog over at and can be found tweeting @MummyBarrow. We’re delighted to be working with her for our 50th celebrations. Here’s her Canvas story.

Ooohhh is this thing on? Hello. Hi. My name is T (short for Tanya which I really don’t like, and I hate Tan even more so please do call me T. Ironic really since my parents named me Tanya as it can’t be shortened) What? Get back on track? Sorry. Sorry. Yes. Hello.  I am slightly bonkers mum of three who lives in Hampshire with the long suffering Bruce.

My day job is rather dull and involves landlords and tenants and as I work from home I get quite lonely (being self employed has lots of benefits but one of the downsides is that there is nobody to share plot twists on Scandal or The West Wing with).  So I joined Twitter back in 2009 and from that got into blogging. Since then it has been a whirlwind. Thanks to my blog I have reviewed everything from chocolate to books to cars to holidays to waffle makers.  We have had days out and weekends away, and money can’t buy experiences like the FA Cup in our lounge for the day. It has even taken me to No 10 Downing Street, Ghana, Tanzania and just this week Kenya where I got to spend three days with David Walliams visiting various projects supported by Comic Relief.

Twitter also means you can re-connect with people and companies that you once knew.  A bit like Friends Reunited. Does anybody even remember that now? Which is how I found Canvas Holidays again. As a child we had so many holidays in France with Canvas Holidays I can’t even count them. I think we visited every campsite they had, from Brittany and the Vendée to the Loire and Biarritz, if it was in France in the 70s and 80s, I am pretty sure we went.

This is me circa 1977.  Oh those shiny shorts.

This is me circa 1977. Oh those shiny shorts.

Glorious happy memories of summer holidays with Canvas Holidays with no memories of my dad swearing because he couldn’t put the tent up or had forgotten to pack the tent pegs, because all of that was done for us.  All we had to do was arrive and relax. Unlike Bruce who has many a childhood story of erecting tents in gale force winds and waking up to find they are on the edge of a cliff face because it was all done in the dark.

Travel definitely broadens the mind and I am thrilled that we are able to do as much as we have in the past few years, staying in some amazing villas and hotels. But there is something about staying in a tent, isn’t there? Waking up to the sound of zips being undone and breakfasts being cooked on the pathway outside a tent is something that makes me ridiculously happy. And is something I can’t wait to share with the kids this year.

They think I have finally lost the plot when I talk about this given that I once made Bruce drive a 10 hour round trip to go and a hire a camper van for us to go to Reading Festival which is only ten miles away because I insisted we have our own loo for the weekend. And then made him drive 10 hours to take it back three days later.

But isn’t that what being a grown up is all about?  @mummybarrow

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