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September 28 Didn't we have a lurvely time.........We did, we had a great day at Whitby with the group of people we walk with on Wednesdays. Got there about 12.30, bit of a walk then some great nosh and another bit of a walk. We kind of all went our own way in couples or groups but kept bumping into each another. There was a meeting up in the bar at 4pm and a drink before setting off for home.
I have never seen so many fish and chip emporiums, and the different prices were mad. from a humble £3 odd to £11, mind you, for that you did get a free spray of Chanel 5 in the ladies....Dont know what the blokes got! High cholestral probably.
This is a tale of Whitby from several years ago. The bairn (about 12) had been reading Robin Jarvis's books http://www.robinjarvis.com/ and was right into tales of Whitby and witches etc so, during the summer holidays we decided to take her and her friend Sarah to Whitby for the day so they could soak up the atmosphere. We had a great morning, a lovely picnic, and during the afternoon were wandering the town. Along the pier we came across 'The Dracula Experience'. http://www.literarytraveler.com/literary_articles/bram_stokers_dracula.aspx
This was a must for the girls and although I wasn't keen, I didn't want to be seen as a scardy cat, so in we went, but just before we did we were approached by a lady with a girl of about 11 and a child in a push chair who asked us would we be kind enough to take her daughter in with us as she couldn't with the wee'n, and ever willing, we agreed.
So there were we John me and these 3 kids and we walked from one tableau to the next, doing it all in a very educational sort of way getting the kids to take it in turns to read out the notes beside each one. It was, if I'm honest a bit boring.
That was until a cold clammy hand covered mine as we stood in the gloom of a particularly bloody scene. I screamed, the kids all screamed and we were off. The dad was in hysterics and calmed us all down as we came to a halt by the next tableau. I was dead uneasy and the thing was that because none of us had seen anyone actually do the deed, we didn't know when the next strike if in fact there was to be one, would be coming, so we were all a bit giggly and unsure of ourselves. The rest of the tour turned out to be uneventful and we were nearing the end of the story and I have to say I was a bit relieved.
The last scene was one of Dracula easing back into his coffin at Daybreak, the coffin being in a vault built with stone (polystyrene) walls, and there bold as brass was Dracula waiting for us to pass him before we could leave. I have to tell you this was Dracula dressed in somebodies old curtains and a typical halloween mask, and about as scary as our cat. BUT, for whatever reason I absolutly turned to jelly and as he raised his badly suited arms in a gesture of 'I'm coming to get you' I absolutly became hysterical. It was flight again I'm ashamed to say, but this time it was a case of sod the kids as I left them behind to their fate. As I passed 'the dad' I gave him an enormous push straight into the waiting Drac, both fell into the terrible set and polystyrene walls tumbled hither and thither, while there was the audible crack of a plywood coffin going for a Burton. Drac and 'the dad were left to pacify 3 absolutly traumitised children. Me? I was away, outside and down the street with wet legs I might add, and with a distraught mother and a toddler chasing me demanding to know where their child was.
Probably this was the most uncomfortable one and a half hour journey home I have ever had, and I just hope that the other child didn't need to have counselling after such an experience. Our two just thought it was hilarious and I have to say we hooted all the way home.
So, this time I gave the Dracula Experience a miss, I would hate them to have recognised me and charged me damages!
Anyway, there are these two nuns driving down a road in Whitby when suddenly Dracula swoops in front of them. Shocked one nun says to the other.
"Quick sister, show him your cross".
The other fearlessly puts her head out of the car window.
"Go on, clear off you bloody menace". September 26 I know, shameless promotion. 'The Little Red Phone Book' by Christine Arnold (I'm the mam) is published by Streetgate Press and is available in the shops at the end of November, just £9.99...... and just in time for Christmas! However, it can be pre booked from Amazon, and if you order 2, the postage is free! Ideal for the Christmas stocking it really does have some great tips on saving money from your phone bill and also some really useful information which is written in a light hearted way. For those of us (the dad) who keep getting text messages and find it too much of a bother to learn how to reply, there is a masterclass which even 'the dad' could follow. (He was the guinea pig).
I have to say, this was not Christine aka Xine's chosen subject to write on, but after knocking on publishers doors for some time with samples of her work, she was delighted to take this commision from one of the bigggies in the book world, and I can bear witness to the time she has spent on research and in the writing of the book. It has been a journey for her in many senses, not least in that she has coped with some serious health problems at the same time as writing, so kid (the bairn) I take my hat off to you.
Friday there is a book launch at Intermetso a wine and coffee bar in Newcastle. So I will get me posh frock on and look oh so proud.
I will put a reminder on the blog nearer the the book release date, which currently is Nov 27th.
My last blog was very serious I know and thank you for your comments, I really appreciated you sticking with my ramblings, and were kind enough to reply. 'M' had called me Saturday and it was, as it often is when she calls, bad news. She and I, I have to say were a great couple of gals in London in 1968, where we shared a flat together, both in our early 20s we enjoyed every minute, there was a party every weekend and even though we didn't have 2 brass farthings to rub together, we always had the best time. A mars bar and 20 'Diplomat' (fags) each morning from the shp on the way to the N W Polytech, and nothing much else mattered. Then she met who she thought was 'the love of her life', and after we finished college she married the guy who frankly has abused her mentally and physically ever since. It all makes me very sad, but she has stayed with him.
Hope you are all enjoying the sunshine today, to get back to the first subject of this blog, john and I have spent the best part of the day going through boxes and boxes of junk in second hand shops looking for old telephones, to use as props on Friday. Probably other people have balloons festooning their book launch parties!
Tara just now. September 25 This is my serious head.Sometimes there are some serious matters I have to get off my chest, and yesterday one of these came up and I challenged myself most of the day on a concept I always thought to be most important of all, and one which I acknowledged as an absolute truth where relationships are concerned. That of ‘unconditional love.' That love which can transcend all - which can truthfully say; no matter how much you hurt me, or what you do, I will still love you totally and completely for the person you are.
As a Christian I have tried to live with the precept that because we are ALL the children of God we are therefore part of His greatness and therefore even at our worst we are great. As a Social Worker, the earliest training I had reinforced this. Man is not intrinsically bad, even though some of his actions are. That damaged people - who are not so mentally ill that their perception is distorted through no fault of their own, - will respond positively, in the knowledge that they are unconditionally loved. That seeing the good in people would produce better self esteem, self respect, and ultimately reciprocal feeling toward others. And on the whole all of these things in my eyes are indeed true; I have much anecdotal evidence of this. But, was the love offered to achieve these ends unconditional?
I think not. I don’t think there is such a thing as true altruism, even though I have wracked my brains to think of someone who is truly altruistic, for to be so, would require love to be given absolutely unconditionally. Of course the first person who came to mind was Mother Teresa, great Christian and humanist, gave of herself body and soul to help others and ripples of her goodness are felt throughout the world. But was she motiveless? Was her love for humanity unconditional? Did she expect absolutely no reward in return? Was there not some personal reward in seeing the product of her work? And certainly I think her faith would anticipate that at least her final reward would be heaven. She probably was never consciously looking for canonisation, but that will almost certainly come fairly soon, and as a great Saint, that is some status. I thought of others too, who I will leave you to have your own thoughts about. Elizabeth Fry, Florence Nightingale, the Rowntree and the Cadbury families. More recently, Otto Schindler, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi. All of whom made a massive difference in the lives of others. I am sure that none were looking for a ‘reward’, or that they sought ‘conditions’ when doing good, but certainly their actions at times were conditional, or the outcome was. Which brings me much closer to home and the ‘unconditional love’ we give to our family and friends, (and I am so hoping someone can prove me wrong here). Can we really and truly say (in some cases) that it’s perfectly fine to receive very little or even nothing in return for all the love which has been freely given? If you can continue to the end of your days offering this selfless love then it has to be said, unconditional love really does exist, but, to be unconditional, it does have to be until the end of your days.
This blog is dedicated to my dear friend ‘ M’ who has lived in the shadow of violence from a family member for 30 years but will not bow out because she says she is committed to ‘unconditional love’. She currently has 3 fractures including a fractured jaw. September 20 I just can't help being noseySo, I'm in Somerfield's store for one or two things, and masses of kids from the local Comp are also in there, several staff are posted around the place to keep a weather eye out, and there's this elderly dear having a rumage through the veges. I see her and I know a couple of these kids have seen her popping several tomatoes into her bag, so, I look at the kids and they look at me and we all kind of shrug, I mean this dear is a really old dear. So I walk on to get some milk, and after doing so realise that I have forgotten the dog's treats, (a must), so backtrack to that aisle. Who should be standing looking at the sweeties but the old dear. She has a basket, nothing whatsoever in there, but into her capacious bag goes a large packet of maltesers. I do a double take, and wonder what I should do next. One of the posted staff is at the end of the aisle so I sort of nod to him and then to the old dear in an attempt to direct his attention in the hope that he is the one to cop her. No such luck, as he looks towards her, she says,
"Hello Darren dear, how's your mam"?
So I know then that Darren dear isn't going to be the one to shop her. well, nosy beggar that I am I start to follow her. - She only went into the wines and spirits section didn't she, and I'm the only one on her tail and heaven knows what she's going to shift in here.
Well, I'm tall, and have often been taken for a WPC (I kid you not) so I thought, wonder if I can use some acting skill here, so before the old dear could do any further damage I went up to her and gently as I could said,
"Can I give you a hand with your bag, it looks very heavy"?
I think my idea was to have her realise she was rumbled, so that she would say she was just going to pay for the stuff or some such. At this point the manager was suddenly standing beside us both. He's looking at me funny, and says,
"Are you from the agency"?
"Agency, what agency"?
"You know" he says, shaking and nodding his head all at the same time, like he has fleas or something.
"No, sorry I'm not from an agency".
Then I found myself doing exactly the same thing he was doing, nodding and shaking my head at the same time in the direction of the old dear, again I suppose in the hopes of putting him on the scent.
He totally ingores me and says to the old dear,
"Do you want your usual Mrs Little"? And reaching forward he takes a half bottle of scotch from the shelf then escorts the old dear to the check out where it seems they know her very well and help to empty the capacious bag onto the belt for scanning.
I'm left feeling a right clot, and I have no idea which agency I am supposed to be working for, that one was never explained.
So there you are, I really don't have to go too far to get my entertainment for the day. September 18 family history.Just a bit of information. I am the youngest of 6, (so that will tell you how ancient the rest of them are). My father really wanted a boy and each of us in turn was to be called Peter, however, along came Sheila, Moira, Patricia, then Flora (who was obviously supposed to be the last as she was named after my mother) then 3 years later Ailsa made an appearance. My poor old mam was not in the greatest of health by this time and it must have been a terrible shock to her to discover she was again pregnant 5 years after Ailsa was born. I arrived on October 3rd 1945 exactly one day before Ail’s birthday; course no-one had bought her a thing poor child, so I was presented to her as a gift! She was even allowed to name me, and she did – Brenda – and this is the name on my birth certificate. Once at school I had a teacher who insisted on calling me Barbara, this was rectified then it was forgotten, and Barbara would be used again, I just got used to it I suppose and so did my friends, so I have a name for friends and a family name. This is strange because the same thing happened to my father who everyone outside of his family knew as Peter, he was actually John Grant.
So, when I was a nipper and my mam wanted me for some errand or whatever, there was always a liturgy of all my sister’s names spouted before she eventually reached one of mine, by which time I was off, usually out of the little bedroom window onto the flat porch roof below, a quick step onto the trellis fence then away, out of earshot so that I could genuinely say I hadn’t heard when she called. What a bad child!
Thank you to ‘the muse’ for suggesting I write this when the mind was a blank. And no! I did not say the moose. September 15 Against the flow.Hope this finds you all a little drier today than yesterday. That was quite a tornado which swept the Northern regions; hope no-one was affected too badly by it. Think I have just about caught my breath after a hectic few days. Wednesday is our day for walking, and we met up with our usual bunch of suspects at Hexham riverside Park for a walk along the south side of the river Tyne, about 2 miles to Warden where there is a very pleasant watering hole. As usual, if the legs had worked as hard as the gobs we possibly would have been there a deal more quickly, nevertheless get there we did and enjoyed mine host’s ‘Black sheep’. The barman helpfully gave us directions to go back to Hexham on the north side of the river, so off we went. What he omitted to mention was the fact that the River Tyne splits a short way into the walk and we should have crossed the railway bridge to get to our walk. Instead, we merrily walked and talked for about 40 minutes, and it was only after stopping to look at the view for a break that it dawned on me that we were heading upstream instead of down. (You can tell I was a Sea Ranger). Needless to say we had to retrace, and then return to Hexham exactly as we came. It was 5.30pm when we reached the car park, so of course we were then in the middle of the evening traffic. Not to worry, we had a great laugh as usual and fortunately it was nice weather. So, no harm done, just a bit of a physical challenge.
Yesterday all my sisters met up to go to Bamburgh where one of them (Flora) has a caravan. We had a great meal in the Lord Crewe Arms then set off for the site. I knew it was going to rain but flippin’ heck, it came down in buckets. It didn’t stop the jaws (either eating or talking) so a good time was had by all. So I was whacked last night (reason for no blog).
Today ‘the dad’ and I have been having a game of The Krypton Factor! We needed a new door (garage to garden) and a friend said we could have his old front door. Well, talk about a puzzle. It has to open the other way round from he had it and getting the flamin’ hinges around the right way has been silly. Somehow or other we have ended with the thing hung upside down, so there is a letter box on the outside flapping open all of the time, it’s absolutely ridiculous, but it works.
Talk again soon. September 12 hotch potch entry.Yesterday 'the bairn' found there had been an attempted break in to her flat. I'm sure she will give you all the low down on her space http://notlikeparis.spaces.live.com/ but what staggered me was how the devious flamers had tried to enter. Via the balcony with the rubbish shute. Fortunatly another neighbour spotted them and reported it so they had gone before the cops arrived, leaving the biggest mess of broken glass. It's just a nasty feeling knowing someone has been in your place uninvited.
Thank you all concerned parties, I am fine now. The imodium sought, bought and down the throat, did the trick.
I saw a short eared owl today, no this is not the start of a joke, I really did, have to be honest and say I didn't know what sort of an owl it was until I consulted the bird book. Very graceful and fearless as it sat on the top of a tree quite near us and watched as the dogs and me walked past.
Right, I'm putting me feet up now and doing nowt. Busy day tomorrow with our walking pals, I'm looking forward to it. September 11 Good Pici, thanks to NASA site The Eclipse over a farmhouse somewhere in England last week. September 10 Thank God for Aloe Vera!Dodgy fish and chips I think, that'll teach me for having a lazy supper! Legs are a bit on the wobbly side tonight but I'll survive.
Anyway, I haven't been the only one with a sore bits this weekend, 'the dad' and 'the bairn' met in town on Friday for what was supposed to be a daddy daughter afternoon ('though I know they were really going into town for my birthday presi). The dad took a few collectable football programmes with him and the first thing was he got £55 from a dealer. So, off they went into some pub(s) and came home a few rounds later! 'Course now they have an excuse to do it all over again .....to go and get the birthday presi......again.....with a few more programmes.....again!
I'm off to sup me ginger and lemon tea now, nice!
Talk again soon.
September 07 Will we be getting them for nowt in 10 years time?Hello and good day to you. I was going to say good morning but then realised I had somehow magically reached the afternoon.
Today is sort the shed out day - *groan* - and the garden is proving to be too small to contain the contents therein. There must be at least 25 mugs and a considerable amount of crockery of various shaped sizes and quality, There is one steam driven PC, 2 rusting bicycles and a huge assortment of stuff that 'may become useful'. Well not any more, it's all off to the tip, the charity shop and a large proportion to 'the bairn' - the stuff that is hers, including all her annuals from she was 2!
Oh gulp! 'the dad' has just brought all of the paperwork manuals etc from the first PC amongst which I have found the reciept dated 23/12/1994 for an HPDeskjet printer and an AST PC the bill was an astronomical £1,191.91p. What a price! No internet, just the basic PC. Phew! I really hadn't realised how far the price had dropped, or indeed how much we had paid for that little baby. Have to say it did me well and saw a great deal of action through my degree and through Xine's school days. The next one was another steam driven affair with the internet but no USB ports and a dodgy hard drive which was fixed and fixed. The current one cost nowt by comparison to which you buffs will probably quite rightly say, 'well, you get what you pay for', but so far apart from a CD rom draw which had to be replaced the PC is sound. For about a quarter of the price of the first one.
So there you have it, a minute by minute account of today so far. As you can see, I am in here while the worker is actually doing the hard stuff. Basically, all I'm doing is popping out now and again, pointing to boxes and saying - charity, the bairn, the tip. I notice there is a sneaky pile mounting up which the dad has other ideas about........here we go again! September 03 Home TruthsI was tagged by Lesley for this, enjoy! WHAT IS YOUR NAME? Barbara THREE NAMES YOU GO BY: Barbara, B, The Mam. THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE : Call-me-barbara barbara B THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF: Can usually see the other point of view. I can happily talk to everyone. I'm pretty none judgemental. THREE THINGS YOU HATE/DISLIKE ABOUT YOURSELF: Oh eck! my weight. My neurosis. My laziness. THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE: Scottish Scottish English THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU: Just 3!!!!! Illness in loved ones, boredom, depression. THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS: hearing from the bairn, my thyroxine, crunchy nut flakes! THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW: sweat shirt, PJ bottoms, a face mask. (well you did ask). THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS Flogging Molly (just been introduced, great). Queen, Regina Spektor THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS: buy a camper van, Tia Chi, join a choir THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A LOVE RELATIONSHIP Closeness Trust Laughter Yep those three things tick my boxes too. TWO LIES AND A TRUTH.. I am president of the local history society I collect post cards I have a BAhons in Social Sciences THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU: Height (I'm 5'10") eyes smile THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO: play chess crochet kill my own food THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES: walking pets Reading WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW: Sleep for at least 5 continuous hours go to the hairdressers lose weight THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING: bed tester wine taster travel writer THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION: Italy The Grand Canyon (again) Ardentinny (Scotland) where we take the dogs every year to a cottage and have the best time. THREE KID'S NAMES: Christine Grant (My dad's name) Charles THREE TRUE LOVES: The dad The dad The dad THREE FAVORITE ANIMALS: Dogs Cats goats (they make me laugh) THREE REASONS WHY YOU’RE DOING THIS: Because Lesley asked me Because Lesley told me i had to Because I like to make Lesley happy THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ!!! Xine Bertykat Prenin
September 01 Afterthought.I just glanced across at the weather thingy, and it says rain and 18degrees here in Newcastle today, well the sun has split the trees all day long with nothing more threatening than a few 'Simpsons' clouds, and I have enjoyed an easy afternoon in the garden. Perhaps it's Newcastle Australia! Where did all that time go? I think I have the answer.Today has been full of nostalgia. The bedroom is finally finished and today I went through the last of the boxes taken from the top of my wardrobe in the hope that I could do a bit of a cull. This box contains a hotch potch of stuff, which represents my life. There are diaries for most years from I was 16. Letters; sad ones, romantic ones, ones from family and friends when I worked away from Newcastle, a whole pile from Michael a prisoner on death Row in Georgia, but the one I had completely forgotten about and am looking forward to having time to read is a 40 page letter I wrote to my sister after coming home from 15 days in Soviet Russia in 1971. These were the days in which holidays in the USSR meant visas and flying only with ‘Aeroflot’ who also organised the stay. It is hard to imagine that I was the same age then as ‘the bairn’ is now. I suppose I must have asked my sister to keep the letter for me, to serve as a journal of events, and it certainly was eventful. I’m glad that I did. So, the fact is that nothing was disposed of, it felt like I would be throwing a bit of me away. No doubt, when I shuffle off this mortal coil, the lot will be ditched, but then it won’t bother me at all. But in the meanwhile this stuff is still precious to me, because one sentence in a diary or a letter brings a flood of related memories rushing back. Although I don’t believe it is good to live in the past, it is good to see where every link in the chain had it’s place, and it most certainly does. |
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