Now who would be conceivably interested in this post I have NO idea 😀 Lol? But not to worry here’s a selection of err ‘interesting’ facts about me, an idea inspired by a tall ‘youthful brunette’ (with a sense of humour) from North America? That narrows 😀 the choice down a little!
Discussing our Brexit farce both upsets and depresses me, I will vote this Thursday however I’ll leave the ‘why I must’ discussion for another day, so replacing my planned political posting I have a happy ‘doggy’ tale instead!
Saturday the 18th May 2019 had been pencilled into my diary for quite some time, err perhaps I should be more honest and admit my mother INSTRUCTED me before Christmas I WAS to be helping her dog mind this last weekend, no arguments no discussions no excuses, a friend of hers had to attend an important family function, and mum agreed to look after their 7 month old Border collie all day Saturday through to Sunday morning because mum is a nice helpful person like that 😀 .
We as a family have owned black and white Border collies ever since I can remember, I’ve even shared their photos somewhere on this WordPress HOWEVER both mum and I had absentmindedly forgotten how much hard work looking after a puppy actually is. In fact mum phoned me this evening to say she was exhausted, also a little annoyed because a piece of paper sitting on the telephone table had been shredded, along with an email address she hasn’t a copy of!
Border collies are wonderful dogs, extremely intelligent, quick learners with a heightened sense of play, they’ll chase and retrieve a ball all day long, adore working to command with the only downside they demand a great deal of attention and mental stimulation, and if an owner hasn’t the time also patience to train and exercise collies, they can often become destructive with behavioural problems…………. they’re fun, lovely natured working animals, with energy to burn and most definitely not lap dogs.
The offshoot is our borrowed collie hardly paused to take breath ALL day, she shredded nearly every toy, dug a few plants up in the garden, did her best to try and entice my mother’s collie into playing games of ‘chase me’ around the living room carpet, and by Saturday evening and several outdoor walks (mum counted she walked 15,000 steps) all four of us were exhausted.
Yes I’d forgotten how demanding a breed they are, and even contemplated once or twice buying a puppy, that was never going to happen but our borrowed collie was a timely reminder these are working dogs, and if you want a collie pet then you must have the time to exercise and train. Watching them round up stock animals, agility and walking to command in the show ring is all good fun and very seductive, but they’re hard work and remember sleeping is for wimps! Lol 😀 .
Having said all that I wouldn’t own another breed, we all have our favourites and a Border collie is mine.
I’m hoping my Title above has intrigued you enough to read this very personal Posting. I’ll try to be brief with my introduction BUT I always say that don’t I!!
Dad sadly passed away early April 2019 after a long illness enough said. Well as you’d imagine we as a family have been busy with banking and legal documents etc hence a very good reason to clear and tidy through his study draws. AND AS ALWAYS HAPPENS when someone passes away, we discovered many long forgotten treasures including the typed manuscript of a fictional novel the name ‘Jennifer’ emblazoned in red ink across a Title page, but that’s a whole blog post all of its own which I’ll leave for another day!
We also discovered a folder crammed full of newspaper articles from the 1980s which I for one had clean forgotten about, and a selection of which I’ve photographed and shown below. Our local newspaper is called the Oxford Mail, every Town and every City across the world has its very own newspaper, although the internet has very probably moved them on-line however the Mail battles on in the Newsagents reporting local news to local people.
Well it turns out in the early 1980s my father wrote a ‘Mail’ guest column once a week, fifteen or so editions only and approximately 700 words long, themed on a variety of topics from family also childhood. Interesting readable pieces written with humour and from life’s experience and IMPORTANTLY Dad didn’t earn a penny because the Oxford Mail are known to be stingy with money, HOWEVER be totally aware he would neither have wanted or expected to be paid, I’d guess purchasing the stamps with glee because yes my father wrote through pure enjoyment, and I’d guess many of you reading here and now will nod your head in agreement 🙂 .
Yes Dad wrote for love enjoyment not financial reward 🙂 and that’s today’s introduction sorted. Below I’ve copied one of his Oxford Mail published article’s called ‘Facing up to the student challenge’ featuring my brother and his girlfriend, the original is of course typewriter written and yes I am rather proud of these pieces of writing, who knows perhaps he’d have been thrilled I blogged his article on the internet?
I’ll leave you with one last thought, if Dad was alive and in good health today I’m positive he would have taken to WordPress ‘like a duck to water!’
Can you visualise days at Redbrick University in the1960s? All the male students wore coats and the girls were locked up in their halls of residence, not a miniskirt in sight.
(Blimey 😮 Dad was imagining miniskirts!)
An entire Term’s equipment could be transported in one large suitcase. This was heavy, admittedly on occasions fellow travellers on the 11.17am narrowly escaped with their lives when the case was swung up onto one of those silly little tennis racks they had in those days. The swinging sixties and the permissive Seventies (to say nothing of the Expensive Eighties) have changed all this.
Below are listed some of the items essential equipment parents of prospective students might invest in. Also included is some advice to parents culled from bitter experience.
Don’t allow your son or daughter to secure a place too far away from home unless gaining comprehensive knowledge of the road works on the UK motorway network is your forte. Preferably choose one far enough away to prevent journeys home to borrow money or best non stick frying pan, but not so far away as to make the transport of incredibly heavy cardboard boxes a problem. Gone are the days when a text book costs 15 shillings. Books like those used by the student coast about £40 a nicend a quick glance will not rivet the layman like a Jilly Cooper.
Driven to tears?
2. On the subject of transport, invest in a van of fair size. If this is thought absurd, try getting three guitars, a trunk full of dirty washing, fourteen cardboard boxes of assorted shoes, cassette tapes (remember those?), books, files, a monster packet of Sainsburys monster biodegradable washing powder, a small microwave, a cardboard tube containing a poster of Madonna, portable TV and spare parts for a Citroen 2cv.
3. Students reappear at the end of June ready to unwind. This however is the parents hardest time. Struggling to get the cardboard boxes into the loft is only part of the problem. A trip to Israel and Egypt with the girlfriend is in prospect…………… paid for with proceeds from casual employment.
Watch the telephone bill. Calls to the Egyptian Embassy in the daytime are expensive. The trip will begin at 8am from Oxford bus station, so say fair well to at least one nights sleep.
Two days before departure, realisation dawn’s the girlfriend does not know where Egypt is, let alone that a visit there is rather different from a day out in Bournemouth. Search the loft for a school globe to show her. Full to the brim with typhoid injections and quinine tablets, she will take fright at 11pm the night before departure. ‘Prisoner Cell Block 11’ has a marvellously calming effect and the parent can relate to it by realising the inmates are having a better time than he is.
Reversed charges from Tel Aviv cost about £9, so budget for them. Arrival back after a month is also at 3am. Cook egg and chips, make gallons of tea while you listen to stories of spells spent in Israel and Egyptian hospitals suffering from gastroenteritis which seems to be the main feature of the trip.
A last piece of advice for the parent is to give up, at least temporarily, alcohol and tobacco and embrace the conversation movement with open arms. A crafty cigarette in the garage will pass unnoticed, but don’t throw away the tube from a used toilet roll last the green police pounce. Pay the Poll Tax, but don’t attempt to justify it…………. and pay the students as well.
When your son or daughter goes away for the first time, things will never be the same again. It is hard to negotiate the path between idealism and the demands of this difficult world but one day it will all be worthwhile.
R. Shepherdson & A. Shepherdson 2019
(One final thought, just imagine living in an age of being unable to edit as you go and NO spell-check!!)
One of the saddest true stories I could share with this WordPress involves a girl, a 17 year old girl I used to attend secondary school with many years ago, her name is Karen (for this post) and NO this isn’t one of my tales of an adult nature.
Karen was rather short with wide hips though not overweight, and far from being a plain girl she was attractive and unremarkable and I don’t mean that in a nasty way, 95% of the population are unremarkable and average looking, I am you are, what I’m trying to say is if life had turned out differently, Karen with her blondish hair may well have worked in a Bank like her mother, married say an electrician, their destiny to birth two children own a dog and live happily ever after on some middle England housing estate.
Oh and the hair is but a distant memory (sigh) 😀 , back in the 1970s I was always making things from old scraps of wood so was I taught to be creative or inherited the skills through my genes?…………… Happy days! 😀 And back in the days of my youth pram wheels were childhood currency, if you had them some kid would always buy or exchange for a swap……….. I’m wondering do children play like this in 2018 or am I looking at my past through rose coloured spectacles?
Anyways chatting about ‘meee’ isn’t necessarily the point to this post.
My mother is a perfectionist she can turn her hand to almost anything, as a small child I remember her sitting at the dining room table, cutting out material for dresses, shortening curtains by sewing machine and taking the hem up on my Jeans because she could never buy…………….. LOL long story!!! Most evenings leading up to Christmas she’d be baking mince pies, cooking a fruit cake, icing when cool with brilliant white sugar solution then leaving on the dining room bureau to dry. My mother used to make everything and anything before arthritis took hold of her hands (they’re not so bad which is a blessing but sewing is a hobby of the past), and only just recently she helped me assemble a bathroom cabinet holding it up while I drilled screwed and attached to the wall……….. yep a lovely family anecdote to put down in writing.
Ah where was I? Oh yes crafting a response post to a lady blogger I follow, about the age of nine and for some unknown long forgotten reason I had to make from scratch a small ‘sitting stool’ from oddments of timber. You know the scenario, this crafting project was a task to be completed earning me a badge from my Cub Scout leader, successful and mum would later sew onto my arm. The point to my tale is I guess mum could have left me to my own devices, and yes I could would have presented a half decent chair to my Cub Scout leader, earned the badge because well I was good with my hands and now I’m a time served engineer by trade.
Anyways rather than leaving me to work on my own, mum helped with the measuring cutting drilling screwing together before trusting me with a tin of brilliant white gloss paint!…………… And measuring each small piece of timber is the key to my tale, the dimensions had to be marked with a pencil then cut to a line, left to myself I’d have used rule of thumb and yes as I remember the ‘sitting stool’ EXACTLY resembled the picture on the plans……… even if I say it myself the stool looked pretty darn spectacular with its shiny paint drying under bright sunlight.
As an aside after the presentation ceremony, unbelievably one rather catty bitchy mouthed mother had the nerve to criticise mum saying,
“I don’t agree with parents doing the children’s work for them!” (Mum let it pass!)
Ffs I physically made it! Mum just instructed me how to use tools properly and to this day I still live and work by the mantra measure twice and cut once, and yes still to this day there are occasions when in a rush to get tasks done the initial first measurement turns out to be wrong…………. don’t you think that bitchy mother was out of order? I guess some parents compete against other parents through their offspring and it gets outer hand, anyways very childish behaviour but there you.
So what’s the point to my tale? We all have childhood memories experiences which only when many years later as adults ourselves do we realise shaped our lives, to this day I can close my eyes and picture us two knelt on the concrete front drive with tools and oddments of wood scattered around about us, I guess some would use the word bonding though I’m not so sure? To me our labours were more an exercise in how things should be done correctly, and yes on reflection the anecdote is a happy childhood memory which perhaps I’ll appreciate even more in years to come……… sadly.
I’m employed as an engineer so perhaps her early construction lessons rubbed off?
The amusing part to this tale is knowing my mother as a person I’d guess she was herself competed against other parents, however note she was very careful NOT to make the ‘sitting stool’ for me (btw I’ve asked mum and she cannot remember what happened to it), yes a competitive parent but cheating to win an award wasn’t and isn’t her style!
So my message to the blogger I’m responding to, don’t worry about the mess, the child is crafting and baking but life skills are being learnt, I’d guess treasured memories are being locked away for future reference and at least the child isn’t staring at a screen zombie like watching TV.
A lady called Lesley, and I doubt she’ll mind me saying she’s also a blogging Grandmother, replied to Caring for Parents #2, in fact she’s replied to several of my posts. Well short and sweet for now, because I’d like to respond to her comment a little later, I’m going to share with you her thoughts as to said post by repeating her reply below, (come on keep up 😀 ) and if you’ve gleaned anything from my blog you’ll know I LOVE thought provoking comment.
Btw my mother’s on holiday and I’ve moved home to look after my father who has memory problems.
So I’m wondering was my Blog #2 clumsily written, who I am, ageist or a combination of all three? Yes to all three and perhaps a little offensive as well however they’re my thoughts transferred to print at the time, so I’ll quote someone I work with by saying,
“No worries all’s good good”.
My mother gleefully phoned this Sunday morning to check up on how things are going and she’s having a wonderful time dancing and sightseeing with her friends, great and btw the weather’s turned overcast. As to the point behind this post series they’re little more than experiences of caring for my father over 4 days, I’ve provoked one very interesting response so I’m very happy and certainly not seeking approval……………. you get the idea.
Lesley’s enlightening reply, I hope I’m this active also positive when I retire……. oh and with a fulfilling ‘adventurous’ sex life!!
Old people’s homes????? Really??? That is agism, my friend!
I live in a 55 and older condo community and I am NOT old!!! BTW, Those communities are so much more economical than keeping up a giant sized home when the kids have flown the coop and the hubby has passed on. No, I am not in my 70’s like your mom, but even if I were, I still wouldn’t consider myself old. I can tell you that the people I know who are in their late 60’s and early to mid 70’s are living vital, full, exciting lives. Heck, all the rock icons are aging and they aren’t over the hill yet.Just watch Mick Jagger in concert!
I’m retired from teaching and each day when I get up, I have my morning cup of coffee,go onto my laptop or iPad Pro, and check my FB page, my twitter account, my blog, my emails, and jot down ideas for the a new chapter in my novel. Then, I usually write an assessment on one of my social media sites of what our ridiculous excuse for a President has done to destroy democracy and move on from there. Sometimes, I write in my blog, while still lingering over my coffee, and other times I get back to work on my novel and plug forward to finish another couple chapters. But, I NEVER watch game shows. I hate them. I may watch CNN, MSNBC or something relevant to see what is happening in the world so I know what is going on before I venture out on my errands. But no silly shows. I do confess I have a weakness for Judge Judy and so I record her and watch when I have a chance.
I am very, very sorry your father is having memory problems. That could happen to any one of us, and he is fortunate to have your Mom and you to help him through it. I don’t envy either of you as that can’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean your parents are old. In fact, people in their 70’s are relatively young. My older brother is 72 and he is still very cool. And my younger sister just retired this year and now we get to see each other much more often. We Iive in different cities but speak daily and talk about our Tai chi classes, download new books to read each month and we drive and meet for lunch to discuss them in a book club we belong to.
But seriously? To reduce the interests of middle aged people to Brain numbing fodder???? I don’t think so!!! Notice I said middle aged not old… or elderly. I told my children I can not be referred to as old until I hit my 70’s but I have decided recently that I am raising that age to 80. Today people over 50 are more computer savvy and more vital than ever.
I am involved with political groups and get together online and in person to change the political climate happening in America. I teach poetry in my grand children’s classrooms. I write lessons for the school board and I am in my 60’s. My profile picture on this site was taken about a couple years ago on my laptop so it is pretty current and I don’t think I look or act like an elderly person. (Well, maybe when I have the flu.) What I am trying to say is…. I call myself a “Junior” Senior. I am still vital, important, and able to contribute to society in a positive way and can still change the world. And so can your mom. Do not underestimate women of a certain age.
I am paraphrasing, but Gloria Steinem said something to the effect that “Men become more conservative as they age and women become more adventurous, open minded, and rebellious. Some day the world will be run a bunch of gray haired ladies!” So my friend, NEVER refer to senior communities as old folks. We love, we laugh, we drink, we dance and we have sex. YES! We still raise hell.
The Peace, Love, and rock and roll generation will never grow old!
This post is what it is, me sharing thoughts with MY WordPress, and I will try my best (as always) to keep these shared thoughts 🙂 positive light and interesting…………. call this one a little more serious than usual. (Any comments would be most welcome).
Followers who’ve read my family tales of which I know there are several, may have noticed I’ve never written a single word of my father, I don’t wish to start now except to say ours was a strained relationship (my fault?), dad is/was a good man honest hard working kind and generous but looking back on my childhood and years after I feel he let me down. If my mother read this post she’d be very upset but that’s the way I feel, just remember little more went wrong apart from we didn’t get along…….. and as children often do, admitting we’re perhaps more alike one parent than we care to admit…………… or wish to be true can be hard!
But if there’s any blame to be thrown around then please aim toward me.
Not to long ago I wrote a very honest post titled ‘I only have one real regret in my life’, please read if only to perhaps dwell for a second on loved ones in your own life. Remember I’m a good man who made a mistake after I unconsciously absentmindedly carelessly and knowingly forgot to visit my grandfather in his care home, the reason is little more than apathy and thoughtlessness, well I’m determined it’ll never happen again to someone I love.
My mum’s going dancing with her friends in Eastbourne sooon, she’s 70+ and yes goes out dancing once a week with her girlfriends…………. fabulous what a lady 🙂 .
Well I knew for a fact she’d been enquiring Social Services with a view to finding dad respite care (extreme forgetfulness, we fear he didn’t keep his mind alive and active in retirement), I wasn’t annoyed when I found out because that is mum all over, rather than offload problems onto family members she gets stuck in trying to solve a problem herself. She contacted Social Services unaware to me, was prepared to pay and hadn’t told the family. However no luck, healthcare is stretched to breaking point around here and well cutting a short story even shorter, unknown to me she’d been unsuccessful and cancelled her dancing holiday without telling anyone.
I’m not angry only disappointed, there’s been no grumbling no complaining from me, she told her friends she wasn’t going yet she needs the care break.
At the weekend we had a chat over Sunday lunch (my weekly treat), the whole family is aware my father is unable to look after himself SO the upshot to my tale is, I’m taking time off from work and moving back home for four days to look after him on my own. I’m not going to be chief carer under duress mind, there’s neither reluctance annoyance or intransigence, he’s my father he needs caring for okay yes we’ve never been close but there you no one’s to blame, that’s life!
As for my mother on WP, I’ve only ever written with affection fondness (and watchful)because I love her, without becoming sentimental and weepy mum has been my only real true friend as mothers always are, she’s completely selfless caring loving and remembering back to my youth I now see mum pushed me in the right direction and gifted my sibling and I the tools to go out and make something of our lives.
And here’s a thought, back in the 80s while a ‘fifth former’ at school a teacher handed out application forms on behalf of a local engineering Company, for apprenticeships in trades such as toolmakers pattern-makers mill-rights electricians foundry-men, well I took a form, read it and decided I didn’t want to be an engineer? Goodness knows why but apathy’s me all over, not grasping this was a life changing opportunity, not forgetting I hadn’t a frigging idea as to what I was going to do after leaving school!! Well I showed my father, said I didn’t wish to apply, he didn’t seem to mind either way so I hid the form in a bedroom chest of draws.
End to the matter so I thought.
Next thing I know, the form is laying open on the dining room table and my mum ‘encourages’ me to fill it out with her help, then I guess buys the stamp and posts it……… I didn’t apply under duress, no I hadn’t been intelligent to realise the possibilities an apprenticeship could bring, hiding the application was simple apathy.
(Incidentally the 2/7 cardinal vice I’m afflicted by, the 1/7 being lust…….. jeeze the tales I could tell!! I mean the ones I haven’t already!)
Well to cut a long story short the engineering company contacted me for an interview, I sat a rigorous skills examination and ultimately became 1 of 5 successful boys selected from 160 to be apprenticed for in the trade of ‘one of above’……….. yes at first apathy and thoughtlessness (hmm interesting ) but then I got my sh#t together and earned deserved the position.
And I’ll be forever grateful W. # and Co. Ltd. gave me that chance, I’ve never lost sight 155 boys were unsuccessful and perhaps………. no such is life. But just know I wasn’t the reluctant (trade), those four years training were the most enjoyable happiest days of my life, I was paid a modest wage met fantastic lads and taught a trade by 3 very wise knowing skilled trainers who weren’t adverse to giving justified also unjustified discipline. One trainer’s conduct verging on bullying (he did) but there you are, we now live in a mollycoddled society where everyone feels entitled to God knows how many Rights, and if they feel in the slightest bit underappreciated or hard done by the Firm/Company is in Court and they want compensation………….. my take is sh#t happens, life can be unfair, suck it up, learn and move on!
I’m digressing now into a rant.
Oh yes the apprenticeship. I’m neither artistic or academic but I enjoy making things, well lucky for me five days a week I was paid to…………… and loved it! I was an intelligent 16 year old, I kept my mouth shut used humour to deflect criticism, listened wasn’t cocky or loudmouthed, lol I’m no angel just know I worked hard, learnt the Machiavellian skills of a politician to gain favour and keep out of trouble, I was a clever cookie, and by the end of four years the Company employed me full time in the trade of……..…….. I adored the job.
Well in summing up I don’t need to remind you readers it was mum who searched and discovered that hidden application form, she stood over me and helped me fill it out, she bought the stamp and posted though to be fair it was my skills talent and tenacity that got me chosen from 155 other boys, lol give me credit for that much 😀 .
But now all these years later I’m wondering what would I have made of my life if I’d listened to my father and just thrown that form away? What dead end job could I be in now? So now that I’ve given you an insight into my very own parental dynamics, my father was a good loving caring and kind man, but in many ways I feel he let me down. Am I being unfair? (On dad perhaps probably yes?) The upshot I’ll move back home for four days, cook clean care for dad and I know this won’t be the last time……….. I’m not annoyed or angry no my mindset is a positive ‘let’s see how it goes’, I’ll take my laptop and probably read and walk the dog hmm on reflection I’ll enjoy those.
You’ll no doubt be relieved to hear this isn’t a sex post, instead I’ve a more reflective post this evening.
Yes truthfully I’d like to share with my Blog that I do indeed have only one real regret in life, something I’m not terribly proud of, either way my mind returns to this thought more times than I care to admit…….. and bear in mind I’m not fishing for compliments, I did it and I have to live with myself all I would ask is you readers appreciate the advice.
I’m rather big with blog honesty.
My Grandfather came to a point in the latter years of his own life to sell his house and move into a residential old people’s home and I unconsciously made a choice. He wasn’t instructed to by children or advised to by social services, no he was a practical independent man in good health who came to a decision, a crossroads! One day out of the blue, he decided the day to day life of running a home and cooking for himself had all become a little tooo much, in fact he made the move himself along with children’s help importantly there was NO pressure!
Before I begin (and well done France World Cup Champions) a word of advice, if you’re going to sunbathe naked in your garden apply sunscreen, the backs of my legs will keep me warm in bed tonight! And note the last time you’ll ever see my ass on WordPress again!
Over seventy posts published and note each one original and written by me, yay aren’t I a clever boy! No my apologies if I’m coming across as bragging but yes I am rather proud of 4 month’s blogging and ALL my own work………… 🙂 btw you’ll have me for a while longer.
AND then I got to thinking besides several tag posts which you can read here if you’d really like to, I haven’t said a great deal about myself and there’s no real reason for this apart from like many of you bloggers out there, I am loathed to share tooo much detail of my private life……………. I’d love to but again like you all I have to be careful.
This isn’t a post about blogging but while I’m on the subject my advice is follow the common sense rules, no nudity lol, only reveal personal detail that you’re comfortable stranger’s knowing and especially in photographs, change your name or don’t change and never share addresses email numbers with strangers oh and last of all enjoy yourself it’s only writing 🙂 .
Ok a little about me because I’m feeling in the mood, I’m age 50, own my own home, single consequently often feel very lonely and similar to most men very much in love with my genitalia! A strange fact to admit but we guys love our bits more than you ladies know 😉 though I won’t share with you my hard 7½ inches because luckily for you, UK Law doesn’t allow and I WAS only joking anyway.
(How would a post fair totally dedicated to all things genitalia? Hmm there’s a thought not and incidentally I have written one dedicated to lady’s breasts, though I’ll never share)
I’m a skilled craftsmen by Trade, expert in the use of metalworking tools having begun a Toolmaking apprenticeship at the age of sweet 16, and yes I’m going to blow my own trumpet and say I’m rather good at my job (not much else though 😀 ) I’ll share a deep secret with you all, looking back over my shoulder towards my distant youthful past, I realise now I’ve missed opportunities to have relationships with girls. Life regrets are a terrible fact to live with and I guess if I have only one piece of advice to give noting that I’m now closer to the end than the beginning, and YES with age comes wisdom!
My one piece of advice to youngsters would be go talk to that girl or boy you’d love to know better! Ask them on a date because what’s the worst that can happen if he/she says no or isn’t interested? If no, then put the cold shoulder down to experience, learn a lesson move on and you’ll never have regrets.
Lol you’ll realise by now I have a dating regret!
I once knew a red headed girl from Sheffield, we met on a residential youth leader course she liked me I liked her and I should have tried harder to keep in touch after returning to our home cities. Not having done so is the biggest regret of my life though I have mitigating reasons for not doing so. Today when in life’s quieter moments I often ask myself ‘I wonder what is Helen doing now?’ Is she alive? Is she happy fit and healthy? But most of all I’m curious if she ever married? Oh and does she still have that curly red hair so becoming to her face and suited her so? Quite the little sexpot she was!
Perhaps soppy old me overplays the significance of getting to know someone briefly and in rather an intense atmosphere, we became friendly and that’s all but my sister met her future husband in similar circumstances then again a friend of mine married his childhood sweetheart he’d known right through school, who knows when and where cupid’s arrow strikes next?
Ahh missed opportunities but remember we’re talking of the days before email, mobile phones Snapchat WhatsApp and Facebook, keeping in touch with someone a hundred miles away would be so much easier now, but back in 19 whenever all we had was my mother’s phone and incidentally the line was shared with our next door neighbour! Hard to believe now but when I was young I would pick up our phone and sometimes hear my neighbour chatting to someone! My mum would often run round next door to tell them she had a call to make and would probably be chatting for such and such time. Incredible I know AND our number was only 4 digits long…………… 5210!
Yep ‘keeping in touch technology’ has made children’s lives so much happier even though I’d burn every last time-wasting Gaming console if I could, whatever happened to making go-carts out of wood and stolen pram wheels? I made at least three.
I’d guess Helen’s married simply because she possessed such a friendly kind bubbly personality, I also have a strong feeling she has several children and is quite probably a young Grandmother………… frigging hell time flies so fast! That’s another piece of advice I share with my lovely nieces, switch off those phones, forget on-line socialising and go chat with boys or girls because before you know it you’ll wake up one day aged fifty!
The commonly heard saying ‘life is wasted on the young’ is so true, children are blessed with youth health and vitality yet still mope around saying “I’m bored!” For Christ’s sake make use of those blessed gifts each and everyday while you’re still young. Not to worry in our family though, my nieces enjoy life to the full, they’re loved happy healthy have interests and many friends so who could ask for more? They enjoy life and that’s the best anyone can hope for………….. they’re all happy and again speaking with the benefit of wisdom, happiness is ALL that really matters! Hmm perhaps remembering short plump lovely Helen through rose tinted spectacles isn’t such a great idea!
Oh dear I began talking about meee and then became all philosophical about life, 🙂 early Sunday evening thoughts!
Below are photos of my Grandfather’s delivery vans, he owned his own Bakery! I’ll leave you to guess if I’m a ‘Weale’ or a ‘Bateman’ or ‘another’ Lol.
I Follow a lady blogger who writes all the way from deepest darkest Africa, and don’t you think it amazing that you can open your tablet Reader and then be whisked away into the thoughts of bloggers from around the world.
Well paraphrasing a little, this lady pointed out something that I’d never come across before, registered car guards! I guess this service is a sign of modern times, having said that when I daily listen to Jeremy Vine on BBC’s Radio 2 or read when I pickup my daily copy of the Metro free newspaper, I’ll be reminded of the previous days crime stories. AND without coming across as seeming rather smug at her shocking insights, I sometimes wonder if Britain is heading on a similar path?
Time will tell I guess.
Did you know London has a bigger murder rate bigger than in NewYork USA!! The choice of weapon isn’t guns in our case, it’s knives and I’m not underplaying the fact when I say knife crime in the UK is now out of control since the policy of stop and search was abandoned!
And ‘shock of shocks’, you’ll sense a touch of sarcasm here, now that our Police cannot stop and search young men if they suspect them of carrying a knife, young men now carry knives with them!!! Jeeze I saw this coming (with age comes wisdom) and wouldn’t you know it, the public are now demanding the Police have the power to stop and search people who in their professional opinion could be carrying a knife?
Unbelievable you couldn’t make this shit up and in the meantime innocent law abiding citizens have been knifed to death, it’s so tragic.
Well returning to my African blogger’s post and I’ll quote an extract, ‘they have an abundance of registered car-guards who do an excellent job of protecting our cars from being stolen while we shop and go about our business errands.’ Well I learnt something new today and yes quite shocking BUT how long before we in the UK go into Town to shop visit the Post Office or whatever and pay to have someone watch their car so as it’s not broken into?
Without sounding flippant I guess hers is a service that’s creating employment opportunities, having your car watched does seem a great idea for peace of mind, and it won’t be long until big British cities follow suit. Anyways, then I got to remembering an anecdote my Grandfather would often tell me when I was a child, a true tale from the days of owning vans used in his Bakery business. Grandpa ‘Bob’ would proudly tell me back that when living back in the 1940’s, he’d purchased a new van and it would be delivered with the absence of car door locks!
Yes I know unbelievable incredible isn’t it, and I guess all these years since he last told me this anecdote, the vision of him driving into Town, leaving his delivery van unlocked whilst he delivered bread, is well inconceivable in present day crime ridden England.