When I say I didn’t expect the nomination, I mean I really didn’t expect it. After the Echo moment, I thought the excitement had peaked. I’d had my fifteen minutes — or, more accurately, my fifteen seconds — and I was quite happy to retreat back into Narnia with my racing‑green walls, pink blinds, and the comforting hum of my sewing machine.
So when the email came through, I assumed it was spam.
Or a mistake.
Or one of those messages that starts with “Congratulations!” and ends with “Please pay £49.99.”
But no.
It was real.
I must have read it ten times, blinking like a confused owl. And then, because I am a mature, sensible, nearly 51‑year‑old woman, I did what any fully grown adult would do.
I made a Love Island‑style announcement.
Not to the whole family.
Not to an audience.
Not even to anyone who asked.
Just to myself…
and Scout.
I stood in the middle of Narnia, held my phone like it was a villa‑issued device, and said out loud:
“I’ve got an email.”
Scout lifted his head, blinked once, and gave me the exact expression of a dog who has lived with me long enough to know not to question anything. Then he went back to sleep. Typical.
I cleared my throat — dramatically, because why not — and continued:
“I’ve been nominated… for an award.”
Silence.
The kind only a dog can give you — that slow, unimpressed blink that says,
“Is this going to affect my dinner time?”
Honestly, if Scout could talk, he’d sound exactly like Fred Basset — dry, unimpressed, and quietly judging my life choices.
But it was real.
A genuine nomination.
For something I’d built from the kitchen table, with cupboards groaning under the weight of fabric and a sewing machine that had seen more drama than most soap operas.
And once the shock wore off, something else crept in — something I wasn’t expecting.
Pride.
Not the loud, boastful kind.
The quiet kind.
The kind that sits in your chest and warms you from the inside out.
Because this wasn’t about being “the best.”
It wasn’t about beating anyone.
It wasn’t even about winning.
It was about being seen.
About someone, somewhere, thinking,
“What she does matters.”
And that meant more than I can ever explain.
Eventually, I did tell the family — and yes, they reacted exactly as you’d imagine.
But the real moment, the one that mattered, the one that still makes me smile…
was the one I shared with Scout, in Narnia, with no audience and no expectations.
Just me, my dog, and a tiny spark of disbelief.
And little did I know…
this nomination was only the beginning.