THOMAS BLAGHORN

A walk into Chatham throws up many questions but as I wandered down past the station last Monday, crossed the bus waiting area and emerged round the corner of the Alexandra pub, a sight caught my eye which sent my imagination into overdrive trying to come up with an amusing idea with which to explain it.

Was this someone’s failed attempt at a well known Chatham tradition, one usually fuelled by copious imbibement of alcohol mixed with high spirits , a practical joke that seemed like a good idea at the time until an attack of vertigo signalled that maybe it would be a good idea to abort this mission as they don’t relish the thought of spending the night sitting in Medway A&E.

No, my assumption is that Thomas Waghorn upon seeing a growing trend amongst street entertainers for pretending to be statues has decided to capitalize on his greatest skill and that there in front of him is his hat tossed down on the ground for any welcome donations.

PHOTO BY GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN

A DIFFERENT CLASS

Last week saw the 20th anniversary of the date that “ Different Class “ by Pulp was released.

Their big breakthrough album of the Britpop era , with songs that told stories that echoed how some of us were feeling .

My copy with its creases, broken case and still intact interchangeable front cover cards depicting cardboard cut-outs of the band placed in various locations looks every one of its 20 years but it’s still going strong after all this time and hidden away in the album sleeves is a caption that means just as much to me today as it did back then to all those mis-shapes who didn’t feel like they belonged in the places they lived in .

 “Please understand. We don’t want no trouble. We just want the right to be different that’s all “

A lesson there that many could learn from on judging people just because they’ve chosen not to be a sheep and stray from looking like what other people believe to be the norm.

PERIOD PROBLEMS ....

I don’t know about the rest of you girls but after a hard day dealing with all of life’s essentials I do like to treat myself to a bit of luxury.

When I’m done reaching for the skies in my helicopter seeking out zoo tickets and baked Alaska I do like to kick back in my houseboat with a packet of Jaffa cakes and indulge in a spot of bingo or better yet see if it could be me who scoops this week’s winning jackpot with my ticket for the national lottery.

Once a month however after all those mundane everyday necessities I  do love to go completely mad , spoil myself rotten and splash out on an extravagance that is truly and divinely decadent .

And what better gift to treat yourself to as the cold winter nights roll in and the only thing you feel like doing is snuggling up in your warm duvet with a hot water bottle stuffed down the front of your pjs than an immaculately wrapped item fashioned from cotton with a stunning string detail or a soft padded towel that absorbs everything you throw at it then protects you with loving care by locking it away from danger with its amazing Dri weave top sheet.

Some might imply that I’m being frivolous treating myself to such a lavish purchase every time the page of the calendar turns but I believe that you have to pay for quality you see, what’s 5% extra when you know how amazing it’s going to make you feel that you’ve invested in something that makes you feel so special once a month and the best thing is you get to update it with a completely new package four weeks later.

After all ladies surely we all deserve to reward ourselves opulently for that 3-7 days a month where we have to contend with feeling like we’ve stopped a speeding cannonball with our stomachs , been gifted with the limbs of a stick man and have all the patience of the incredible hulk when someone has ticked him off ever so slightly.

And as for even considering wearing any kind of light coloured clothing, well, let’s not even go there for that would just be a red rag to a bull if you’ll pardon the slightly graphic euphemism over your morning coffee or cup of tea.

A lot of blood has been spilt over sanitary towels and tampons being seen as non essential items and I have to agree.

 There’s nothing luxurious about periods in fact they’re quite taxing.

BUS FARCE

The 176/177 bus saga, it’s the stuff of legend round the Walderslade /weedswood area

Once upon a time you could be sure of catching a bus quite easily into town taking in the station before continuing on to Gillingham and Medway hospital and vice versa.

But that was before someone had a bright idea to shake up the timetable and routes and since then it’s been a bit of a gamble as to whether you’re actually going to be able to get anywhere at all on time if you decide to use their public transport services.

Take it from someone who has on a couple of occasions stood waiting for 45 minutes for a service that supposedly comes every 12 minutes as she watches at least 4 vehicles go past in the opposite direction never to be seen again, that if it becomes more time efficient for someone to walk into town and they are getting as far as Thomas Waghorn and his pointy finger before anything passes them maybe those who are able to do so will start protesting with their feet and start being a bit more cost efficient about paying your fares ,Arriva.   

BACK TO THE FUTURE

21^st October 2015, unless you’ve been hiding under a stone, aren’t a fan of 80s Sci fi films executively produced by Steven Spielberg or just simply can’t stand the music of Huey Lewis and the News, you can’t fail to have noticed that the moment has finally arrived where what was once depicted as a look into our future has just become yet another date set firmly in the past.

For as those of you who are familiar with the back to the future films will be aware, that aforementioned date is the exact point in time when Marty Mcfly and Doc Brown jumped into the Delorean for a second time and embarked on a trip of discovery to see what life had in store for them 30 years in the future.

Once there they encountered various new fangled ideas and gadgets and so it got me thinking about which ones would make my life a bit easier if they actually did exist in real life in 2015.

Self tying shoelaces would be a godsend for those who have kids who can spend the best part of a morning getting ready to go out then have to stop numerous times en route because they haven’t fastened their laces securely.

The adjusting to fit clothing could save parents thousands on paying out for new uniform items sometimes just weeks after purchasing because juniors body has decided to schedule a growth spurt in just at that very moment.

And trying to guess whether or not to risk putting out the washing in this manically changeable weather would be a thing of the past if everything came with a self drying mode built in.

But mostly I wonder would I find trying to pass my driving test much easier, if instead of motoring along the highways and spending every lesson painstakingly trying to master my parallel parking, reversing round a corner and other manoeuvres, I took to the skies in a vehicle that hovered and flew?

PLASTIC SNAG

We’re a funny old lot with what we can find to moan about, aren’t we?

There are plenty of other more important things we could be getting our knickers in a twist over but goodness me to hear some people complaining about having to pay 5p for a carrier bag as of 5th October you’d think that the world was ending.

“What a rip off “, “yet another way to con money out of us “, just a selection of the sort of statements you can hear from customers who are forced into delving deep into the darkest corners of their pockets or purses to find that small silver coin that normally ends up in their change jars just so that they have something to transport their groceries home in.

But is it really just the cost issue that’s to blame for all the huffing and puffing at having to pay for your bit of polythene or are there other issues at play for our grumbling at the till.

I know I for one will miss having something to store my paper and plastics in thus saving me from numerous trips outside to the recycling bags and bins whilst my partner and kids will have to find an alternative vessel with which to convey their lunches to work and school.

 There’ll be no more free plastic rain hats or temporary shoe protectors in a downpour and much as I don’t want to return to one of my favourite subjects once again I really do hope that this isn’t yet another excuse for some not to pick their dog poo up anymore.

However much as it is a pain not being able to just grab a carrier and go any longer there are some silver linings in having to invest in and remember your own sturdy bags for life or fabric shoppers you know .

For there’ll be no more having to plead with the handles to hang on in there till you get home before snapping, no gaping holes being sliced through the flimsy plastic the moment anything sharp comes in contact with it or having to chase your errant shopping when the bottom of your bag gives way and sends its contents careering down the road.

And if you’re a Primark shopper anything has got to be better than their brown paper bags that while biodegradable and good for the environment are liable to turn to paper mache if the heavens open suddenly during your shopping spree.

So come on stop moaning about paying and give bringing your own a go after all with Christmas round the corner just think what you could do with all those 5ps you’ve been saving .

It feels good to think you aren’t just watching your money down the drain and with your robust cotton groceries bag doing its job hopefully your shopping won’t be doing that either .

 

 

ROAD HOGS

I understand some people look upon their vehicles as an extension of their personality.

They buff them, clean them and care for them with as much love as they have for a member of their own family.

Give them a name, fill them with accessories, perhaps even purchase them a little something so that they are scented with a beautiful fragrance.

So seeing the amount of tender loving care lavished upon some people’s four wheeled friends maybe it should be totally understandable that their owner couldn’t possibly bring themselves to soil their beautiful interior with any kind of rubbish be it cigarette box , food wrapper or drink bottle ,so down comes the window and off out into the great wide world it goes .

But sorry no , I don’t get it , it’s just ignorant and disgusting , especially when you could just stop and find a bin or dispose of it when you get home.

SLIMMING GIRL...PART 2 ....HOW ARE THINGS GOING ?

I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t wanted to faceplant a bag of chips or sell my soul to the devil in exchange for a bar of something confectionary and I’m quite impressed I didn’t immediately dive into a mega bucket for one to drown my sorrows after being presented with the world’s most depressing salad in KFC featuring limp lettuce and a couple of past their best manky tomatoes .

But despite those little moments of temptation I’ve managed more or less to keep on the straight and narrow with my weight watching  and I’m noticing the improvements it’s making to my fitness levels, stamina and health in general already and that in itself is a major reason to keep on going even when sometimes I might be faltering .

Because if just having lost 6 pounds so far is making me feel this good , imagine how amazing I’m going to feel once I’ve reached my goal weight .

BECAUSEICOULDNTSEE

What to do for the boy’s birthday this year, hmm I know lets book tickets to see that comedian that always has them in stitches whenever they watch him on TV.

An internet search and a slight panic that we might be out of luck as each venue we click on only has single seats available in various parts of the building later, we finally hit the jackpot when we manage to find a date at the O2 that not only has four seats free but are also in the same row of the arena.

Bingo!

We’ve got what we were after and following 30 minutes of negotiating the minefield of timed code cracking and form filling in that is purchasing tickets online, the confirmation pings itself into the inbox of emails received  .

So now we are eagerly awaiting the date to arrive when we’ll take the trip up to the Greenwich peninsula to see Michael Mcintyre in all his hilarious glory.

Of course I say see, but while viewing won’t be a problem for my lofty other half and the boys who are certainly following in their father’s footsteps when it comes to being of an elevated stature, I can almost guarantee to you that one person won’t be seeing the show nearly quite as clearly as most of the other people in the arena.

For being the height of an average 12 year old, means that I’ve spent more than a fair bit of my life having, if you’ll pardon the pun, to go to great lengths in order to view what’s going on in front of me.

Gigs by my favourite bands watched through the crook of someone’s elbow or perched precariously up on chairs, rails or any available ledges have been the norm for me for as long as i can remember and even inspired me to pick a horse in the grand national one year just because his name “becauseicouldntsee “reminded me of my constant battle to try and observe anything.

 However I’m hoping as the venue is seated this time i might not experience the same difficulties I’ve encountered previously but nothing is guaranteed.

I mean who’s to say there’s not someone with a penchant for large hats, enormous hair or who gives the world’s tallest person a run for their money, sat in front of their computer at this very moment, finger hovering over the mouse trying to decide whether to purchase that single seat left in the arena that lo and behold is right in little old Nina’s field of viewing.

Nothing is certain, I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

 Or not as the case maybe.

In the meantime, I wonder if the Dragons would be interested in investing in a range of adult booster seats and boxes to stand on for the vertically challenged like me?

 

A TIME AND A PLACE

There’s a time and a place for everything and while I do tend to have a good old moan in this column about things that other people do that get on my nerves, I must confess to also having been  guilty of what I’m going have a whinge about this time.

If you’ve been on social media at all this week or any national news websites you will probably be aware of a story emanating from Antwerp where it appeared a text walking lane had been introduced into a busy street.

A place where people could walk safely looking at their mobiles without having to pay attention to what’s going on around them as long as they stay carefully nestled inbetween the white lines that separate them from those going about their business out in the world of reality.

It all turned out to be a big publicity stunt by a mobile phone company of course but hands up how many of us thought maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

How many times a day do you get stuck behind someone walking at snail’s pace as they stare zombielike at the thing glowing in their palm , fingers moving like lightning as they reel off messages hither and thither whilst never once looking up to see what might be occurring outside the confines of that little glass screen.

Or had to make a split second decision about how to get out of the way of a sudden obstacle because the person coming towards you is clearly blissfully unaware of what’s unfolding right in front of their noses.

And of course I can’t make such accusations about other people’s shortcomings while in possession of handheld technology without admitting to my own misdemeanours.

For just last week whilst in the throes of updating my facebook profile with what I thought was a particularly witty status I misjudged where I was , took what I assumed to be the right turning  and looked up only just in time to discover I was walking straight into a dead end alley.

I didn’t look particularly intelligent having to turn round and walk back the way that I’d just come that day I would imagine and never did the message to pay less attention to our phones until it was safe to do so, hit home quite so hard as it did the following day when I saw a couple of parents in charge of young tots in buggies.

Eyes fixed firmly on the text scrolling up on their mobile, their precious ones sit in a carriage that weaves precariously from side to side as it is steered singlehandedly along the pavement.

 Its lucky really that the short and stout fortysomething coming the opposite way has had the foresight to pass by between them and the edge of the kerb or the pushchair might have been hitching an early ride home on a bus or car bumper.

So like I said at the top of this column maybe we need to learn that there’s a time and a place for everything.

And whether or not our status is updated shouldn’t be a higher priority than our safety .

APOLOGIES ....

FOR THE NUMBER OF POSTS PREVIOUS TO THIS THAT ARENT IN ANY PARTICULAR DATE ORDER , THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS HAVE BEEN A BIT HECTIC AND I HAVENT HAD MUCH OF A CHANCE TO UPLOAD .
THEY ARE ALL MY MEDWAY MESSENGER COLUMNS , JUST NOT NECESSARILY IN THE RIGHT ORDER XXX

HAIR DYE-SASTER

I have something to confess to, I’m not the girl from the neck down i used to be and as depicted up in the corner of this column in that slightly grumpy faced photo.

For a couple of months ago after nearly six years of being a platinum blonde I decided I’d grown weary of the almost fortnightly root touch up procedure involved in being the shade that the old chestnut would have you believe is more fun and like Darth Vader before me, decided to embrace my dark side.

I’m pretty sure a few of you will know that turning very light hair to very dark hair is no easy ride in the salon let alone hunched over the sink in your pristine white bathroom but with a little help from a friend and a stop off at the hue that was nicknamed “50 shades of beige “, 11 weeks ago I finally arrived at my desired tone of ebony.

And all has been going swimmingly with my amazing new look apart from one incident just recently after getting my hair primped and preened on the hottest day of the year in preparation for my birthday party  .

I’d spent the morning in a chair as my best friend worked her magic covering the silvery grey stripes of root regrowth and snipped it back into my signature look pixie crop.

Hair dry and tidy I bid her farewell after a stop off for rose lemonade outside a local cafe and was glad to get back in the shade for an hour or so before I ventured out once again to meet the boys on their walk home from school with a nice cold bottle of drink to cool them down.

At 3.15 off out into the heat I went, drinks ensconced in a canvas bag, sun cream lathered all over and sunglasses on.

As I walked I noticed I seemed to be getting quite a bit of attention.

My hair must look particularly splendid I thought to myself as I strode on , sweltering hot in my t shirt and shorts and sweat beginning to pour down my face and neck .

With a lack of tissues to hand I used a corner of my black bag to wipe away some of the dampness   and carried on walking, bypassing more people who seemed to be blown away by how good I looked.

It wasn’t until i finally met up with the boys that the reason I was so grabbing people’s attention finally dawned on me.

“Mum, why are your face and neck a funny colour “they both exclaimed and it was then I realised that the remains of my hair dye had been mixing with the perspiration on my skin creating great rivulets of colour cascading down my face and neck meaning that I was no longer pale and interesting but strange tone of stripy blue/black/grey .

Dignity in pieces we were forced to bid a hasty retreat home so I could jump in the shower to wash away the mortification of looking like a right wally so let me leave you with the moral of the story .

Please make sure you remember to wash your hair dye out until the water runs completely clear if there’s an amber weather warning after all the only thing you might want to want to bring a bit of colour to your cheeks is the sun not abject humiliation .

 

 

 

 

HONG KONG GARDEN

Make sure you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you, don’t let anything preoccupy you from driving safely.

Texting , calling , taking selfies ,updating your social media and any other use of mobiles and technical gadgets is dangerous and to be avoided at all times whilst in charge of any kind of vehicle.

The top word in your driving vocabulary should always be observation to prevent inattentiveness behind the wheel causing mayhem to those sharing the streets and highways with you and is a good piece of advice to follow when one of the most given excuses in the event of an accident is simply that the driver was distracted by something momentarily .

So why on earth somebody thought it was an absolutely brilliant idea to build an ornamental Japanese garden in the middle of a busy roundabout , surely a place where being focussed on the job ahead is vital ,is beyond me , really .

PNEUMATIC DIN

The sun is out, the streets are deserted.

Deep into the month of August and summer holidays there’s no dreaded school run traffic to contend with in the morning or just after 3 and save for a few vehicles venturing out on day trips or going about their daily business there’s not that much traffic out on the road to cause much in the way of road disruption.

In fact as long as it isn’t too early, during those adjoining hours between morning and evening rush hours would seem would it not to be the perfect time to carry out essential road works in a residential area such as Walderslade where I live.

So quite whose bright idea that the best time to start using a pneumatic drill is gone 10pm when many have children trying to sleep or are trying themselves to turn in is really quite baffling .

MEDWAY MESSENGER 5 MINUTE INTERVIEW

Name: Nina Page

 

Job/role: “Girl from the neck down “columnist for the Medway Messenger

 

Age: 40  

 

Born and bred: A true Chatham girl born at home in Holland Road in 1975 and have lived in and around Medway ever since.

 

Best thing about Medway: The varied music/art scene, there’s a lot more to Medway than poundshops and bookies if you’re prepared to seek it out .

 

Worst thing about Medway: The reputation that precedes it due to a minority of people’s behaviour.

 

What would you change about Medway? I’d like people to stop using it as their own personal litter bin.

 

Favourite place in Medway: It’s not so much a place but I do love to look at all the lovely old architecture on some of the buildings around the towns. You’ll see a whole new side to Chatham if you only you walked around looking up.

 

Which local person do you most admire: Natasha from Creatabot, she does so much amazing stuff for people and is one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met .

 

Describe Medway in one word:  Home.

 

PARTYZILLA

If you were to ask me to write a list of things I’m not that keen on, somewhere in the top 5 along with mice and rats would be parties.

So why in heavens name I should pick exactly that to do for the celebration of my 40th birthday is anybody’s guess.

When I booked the hall up in January and started printing and sending out invitations months in advance so everyone had plenty of notice I was most impressed at myself for being so organised.

 But now as we approach the under a month to go mark and there still seems so much left to do I’m starting to feel a little like I’m running out of time.

I’m sure it’ll all come together in the end though and hopefully I won’t turn into a full on Partyzilla , stomp my feet , burst into tears and bellow

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if i want to “

BRITAINS GOT A BEE IN ITS BONNET

Jesse Jane McParland does her little ninja thing joined on stage by a plethora of masked ninjas; no-one says a thing.

Boyband strut their funky stuff as girls primp and preen behind them in tight red leotards and no-one bats an eyelid apart from to say that maybe they are a little bit distracting.

Chloe Louise Crawford twirls her un-named dance partner across the stage before flinging him up towards the ceiling without thinking it might have been polite to acquaint us with who he is and what he does for a living whilst Jamie Raven transports a helicopter to the stage by the power of magic alone although the gent sitting in the cockpit might have a different story to tell on how it came to be there if only we were allowed to speak with him.

 Old men grooving are supported by a cast of many but isn’t it strange how nobody seems to think it’s a bit rude of them not to introduce us to anyone at this wedding day they appear to be gate crashing.

And there’s that gospel choir appearing from the wings again to support many a vocalists towering crescendo at the climax of their song before disappearing once more into the darkness without so much as a thank you for bolstering up my harmonies that might otherwise have sounded really quite reedy in this echoey O2 arena.

So isn’t it a little bit hypocritical all this fuss everyone is making over Jules o Dwyer’s use of a little canine extra in her and Matisse’s  B.G.T  Final performance in the shape of her aforementioned doggy chums best friend when other acts have bolstered their two minutes of fame with anonymous helpers albeit of the human variety.

Chase may have had to step in when Matisse’s fear of heights got the better of him and yes maybe it would have been better to admit to a little stunt doubling but surely the talent without which the name of the programme would be redundant, is in Jules case that she truly has an affinity and skill with her canine chums to get them to do these things that do so tug at our heartstrings.

For if you think of the old adage about dogs and teaching them new tricks, getting one to walk a tightrope is certainly no mean feat .

 

 

 

 

 

WHAT KIND OF IDIOT ?

So what is it?

Are you colour-blind to the vast banners outside the school gates?

Perhaps the block type on it isn’t big enough for you to read.

Maybe you don’t like the tone of its message; the green one was quite polite in what it was asking but this new yellow one sounds a little irritable quite frankly as you skilfully execute a 3 point turn in front of it , expertly managing to avoid the two traffic cones someone appears to have carelessly placed across the entrance to the school.

Honestly, you’re only trying to get your kids to school safely by dropping them as close to it as you possibly can, what’s their big problem with that?

The lollipop lady is there; surely it’s her job to supervise everyone’s road safety.

And besides, what kind of idiot lets their kids run about willy nilly amongst loads of traffic anyway.

Hmm yes, what kind of idiot indeed?

MY 40TH BIRTHDAY PLAYLIST .

THIS IS THE PLAYLIST I PRESENTED ONE OF MY BIRTHDAY DJS WITH AND BLESS HIS HEART HE GOT THEM ALL FOR ME , CHEERS KEV ...
AND YOU TOO HAYLEY FOR SORTING THROUGH  ALL THAT " NORMAL "PARTY STUFF PLAYLIST FOR ME AS WELL XXXX

Nina’s birthday playlist .

 

Etta James – Wallflower  (dance with me , Henry) ,tell mama

                               In the basement ( with sugar pie desanto )

Shirley bassey – the spinning wheel

Thee headcoatees – first plane home

Plastic Bertrand- ca plane pour moi.

The 5,6,7.8’s – woo hoo

April march – chick habit

Mari Wilson – just what i always wanted

Tracey ullman – breakaway

Kirsty maccoll – terry

                             There’s a guy works down the chip shop swears he’s Elvis.

The angels – my boyfriends back

The crystals – da do ron ron

                         One fine day

                         He’s a rebel

 

The Shangri-las  - give him a great big kiss

The mar-keys – last night ( the theme tune to Bottom but then you probably already knew that )

The shirelles – mama said

Harry Belafonte – jump in the line

Gloria jones – tainted love

Chuck berry – you never can tell

Little green bag – George baker selection

Green onions – booker t and the mg’s

Can i get a witness – marvin gaye

The night – Frankie valli and the 4 seasons

Killer queen – queen

Wuthering heights – kate bush

Proud mary , nutbush city limits – ike and tina turner

I’m blue – the ikettes

Too many fish in the sea – the marvellettes

Heard it through thr grapevine – the slits

The boys are back in town – thin lizzy

Dancing with myself – billy idol

Love cats – the cure

Loves gone bad – chris clark

In the middle of nowhere – dusty springfield

My boy lollipop- millie

Shes so modern – boomtown rats

Panic , Sheila take a bow , this charming man – the smiths

Have love will travel – the sonics

Wade in the water – marlena shaw

Shop around – the miracles

Tell him – the exciters

Captain of your ship – reparata and the delrons

You make me feel mighty real – Sylvester

I love the nightlife (disco round ) – Alicia bridges

Shake a tail feather – the 5 du tones

The roach – gene and Wendell 

Love man , try a little tenderness – otis redding

Do you love me – the contours

Gangsters , too much too young – the specials

Eloise – the damned

Start – the jam

On my radio – the selecter

Pump it up , olivers army – elvis Costello

Swords of a thousand men – tenpole tudor

Sha la la lee , whatcha gonna do about it – the small faces

Stay with me – the faces

The clapping song , soul time – Shirley ellis

You cant hurry love , the happening , love child , love is like an itching in my heart – the supremes

Think , respect – Aretha franklin

Ghost in my house – r.dean taylor

Echo beach – Martha and the muffins

You really got me – the kinks

I saw her standing there , twist and shout – the beatles

Come on , get off my cloud – rolling stones

Get it on – t-rex

Mary mary , im a believer – the monkees

My generation – the who

Virgina plain, lets stick together – roxy music

Land of 1000 dances – Wilson pickett

Shakin all over – Johnny kidd and the pirates

One way or another , call me – blondie

Lust for life – iggy pop

Cruel to be kind – nick lowe

Rebel rebel , golden years – bowie

Captain sensible – happy talk

Any elvis , jerry lee lewis etc

Stuck in the middle – stealers wheel

Blow up a go go – blow up

Young scene – keith Mansfield

Wonderwoman theme

Fat sams grand slam , give a little love – bugsy Malone soundtrack (which  i have if you struggle )

Life is a cabaret- Liza Minnelli 

Bring me sunshine – Morecambe and wise .

 

 

 

WORLD CLASS LADIES

They’re not all over your newspaper, falling out of nightclubs, bragging about how many fast cars they’ve got or who it is they’re dating.

There’s a distinct lack of St Georges flag flying from houses, cars and drinking establishments.

No gimmicks in the tabloids to be used as a good luck talisman for bringing a bit of dignity back into the beautiful game for dear old Blighty .

And no celebrity endorsed specially penned track for the nation to sing along with as we will them on towards a victory.

Yet despite all this, they played with vim and vigour that displayed a real passion for their chosen sport that deservedly got them further than any English team has got in the world cup since 1990.

So with that amazing desire to succeed instilled within them i wonder if maybe we would be much better off sending the England ladies off to play for us in Russia 2018 ?

GOT 99 PROBLEMS BUT GETTING HITCHED AIN'T ONE

Sky plus is set to series record for Don’t tell the bride , my favourite website is Rock and roll bride, Kat Williams alternative wedding blog and I’ve been known to treat myself to the magazine of the same name as I really enjoy reading about all the different ways couples have celebrated their big day .

Hop on over to Pinterest, the creative inspiration site for projects and ideas and you’ll find I have a board entitled always the bridesmaid, never the bride dedicated to old wedding photos, vintage wedding dresses and peoples retro themed ceremonies so I can understand that it seems a bit weird to others that despite a vast interest in all things nuptial I have absolutely no desire to take a walk up the aisle myself.

Once upon a time back in my younger years I like many others may have dreamed of finding my Mr. right and celebrating our happy ever after with an elaborate ceremony but now I’m older it doesn’t seem so much of a priority anymore .

That doesn’t mean however that I think marriage is such a bad thing , just this month I’ll see some of my closest friends and family tie the knot and I can see it is something that means a great deal to them , that it’s something that works for them and makes them happy .

It’s just that all that fuss and faffing about for one day and a bit of important paper is not for me and so it does get annoying when I express that opinion that others assume it must be due to some underlying issue because after all what sort of girl doesn’t want to be treated like a princess for a day as she joins together with her prince charming in holy matrimony.

So to those who treated me with fawning sympathy like I’m some kind of freak or argued that there must be a reason for my failure to commit to wedded bliss because I jokingly paraphrased a Jay-Z track in the facebook status  “ I reckon  should start a blog about why I’m a woman who doesn’t dream of having a big white wedding called  Got 99 problems but getting hitched ain’t one “ recently  , it’s got nothing to do with me not having met the right person , I’m not protesting too much to cover up for the fact it is really what I dream of .

It’s just how I feel , it’s my opinion , my decision and it doesn’t make me any less of a woman , partner , mum or whatever .

I don’t judge you for doing what you think makes your life complete so please don’t judge me just because I choose not to put a ring on it.

 

TROUBLE AND WIFE

A moment of panic as a fire alarm goes off in the hotel and we think we’re going to have to evacuate, rollers in and faces half made up.

A few tears as the emotion of the day and the pressure for everything to be perfect gets to some of those most involved in the day’s proceedings.

An organist who’s rendition of “ here comes the bride “ seems a little longer and jazzier than anyone remembers it being  that helps ease the nervous atmosphere as everyone giggles to themselves at the pageboy busting some funky moves to it.

And vast netted petticoat shenanigans that culminate in many a wedding photo of someone emerging from beneath the bride and bridesmaids crinolines.

My last column was all about how walking up the aisle was not for me but it was a complete honour to play a supporting role in the special day of two people I love very dearly last weekend.

So congratulations to my brother Ross and to his beautiful bride Hannah, welcome to our family.

 

DONT STAND SO CLOSE TO ME ...

Picture the scene, it’s a brisk, chilly spring evening in the early 90s and I’ve just left my Y.T.S placement at a stationery shop in Gillingham.

I’m not earning big bucks, but at least that £35 a week means I have my own income with which to indulge in my two biggest loves, fashion and music.

Learning to drive is way ahead in the future for me yet so it’s good old Maidstone and District I’m relying on to get me to and from Wigmore and Canterbury Street every day and tonight is no exception.

I trudge down to the stop on Skinner Street, sometimes there are lots of us waiting but tonight I’m on my own so i shove my hands deeper into my jacket pockets to keep them warm and glance at the road ahead to see if there’s any sign of the 115 approaching.

 Swivelling round to see if any are coming in the opposite direction it takes me quite by surprise to find that an unkempt and rather tatty looking fellow in a blue velvet jacket has sidled up behind me.

He mumbles something incoherent and not wishing to seem rude i give him a smile before turning my attention back once again to whether the bus is coming.

It’s as I’m checking my watch to see if when the timetable says 10 minutes past it actually means this specific ten past or some random ten minutes of the drivers own choosing that I realise that the person I hadn’t really paid much attention to behind me is now being very attentive indeed.

The weather is icy cold this evening but his hot breath on the back of my neck doesn’t warm me as he stands a little too close for comfort.

I shuffle forward slightly thinking maybe he just has a problem with spatial awareness but with every move i make he’s there close behind pressing himself right into the small of my back and breathing in my ear.

Standing frozen to the spot, panicking about what i can do as by now most of the surrounding businesses have shut up shop for the evening; you can probably understand the relief i felt as my bus finally appeared round the corner at that very moment.

I jumped on board and as the doors slammed shut in between me and him i sat shaking and cursing at myself for not making a fuss and letting him do that to me.

So that’s why I applaud the New York magazine cover of the 35 Bill Cosby accusers and the empty chair that represents the ones who feel they can’t or don’t want to make themselves known for making a statement that’s as powerful as it is simplistic .

My experience wasn’t in any way as harrowing and awful as what these ladies have been through but i know it’s the reason i have issues with people standing too close to me or invading my personal space unless I’ve really got to know them well first.

To me that picture is amazing because it says it’s not ok for someone to feel they have the right to violate you no matter who they are or what their opinions of you might be.

And there it is speaking volumes in black and white for the entire world to see.

 

THE CHARITY SHOPAHOLIC

I’m a cheap date there’s no doubt about it.

No, quite literally I am.

For chances are if you were to ask me how much anything I own has cost me I can almost guarantee that it won’t have set me back much more than a tenner.

Reason being, of course that I love a good charity shop, me.

Offer me an all expenses paid trolley dash round some high on price but low on originality boutique or department store and you’d be hard pressed to find anything i might even show the tiniest glimmer of interest in.

 However give me free reign to have a right old rummage through rails of donations in Age uk , Oxfam , shelter or the cats protection league and I’m totally in my element .

It started in my teens I suppose when I first decided that I didn’t want to dress the same as the rest of my peers and took to referencing previous era’s especially the 50s and 60s.

With the dawn of the Britpop era in the 90s and its dedication to the movement of 70s crimplene couture and all things trashy and tacky nothing could beat filling a bag with stuff to clothe and furnish your life with for just a couple of pounds not to mention the buzz of being able to brag not how much the outfit you’d chosen to wear out that Friday night had cost you but how little.

60’s and 70s genuine leather coats, half a tonne of vintage dresses, a vast array of handbags, sunglasses, jewellery, swimming costumes and footwear and the piece de resistance an Astrakha leopard print fake fur that brought me nods of approval from a notoriously hard to impress grandma, especially when she found out it had only cost me £7, that’s still going strong to this day.

Over the years charity shops have fed my vintage habit handsomely with some quality items that you’d probably end up paying a fortune for on eBay now and my love of good old forage through rails and shelves of stuff people have donated hasn’t waned.

I love finding that one unique piece in amongst all the modern stuff , that jewel in the rough that no-one else has spotted , vintage Polaroid sunglasses hidden beneath hundreds of plastic high street numbers , a 50s wicker handbag pushed to one side in favour of something not  quite so pretty in faux leather.

A vintage camera case that has become your favourite go to holdall for just £3 and an original 50’s Marks and Spencer’s polka dot tea dress that so impressed one lady she felt the need to follow you up the stairs in a charity shop in Gillingham just to tell you how lovely it was .

There’s nothing quite like a compliment to make you feel like a million dollars but let’s be honest it’s even more rewarding when you know you’ve supported a deserving cause to receive it.

 

 

THATS A WEIGHT OFF MY MIND

New Year’s resolutions, eh?

They’re made to be broken aren’t they?

 But if I’m honest there’s one I made way back on January 5^th in this very column that I’m extremely disappointed at myself for not achieving .

For amongst the promises I made to finally pass my driving test, start getting some ideas together to write a book and look into doing some more adult education classes, lay the one thing that would have made the world of difference to my well being and confidence but I let it fall by the wayside along with the rest as I made numerous excuses for why it just wasn’t happening.

To quote from that piece and refresh everyone’s memories, I declared that with my big 40^th birthday looming on the horizon that the only number I wanted to be making a statement with was my age not the size of my ballooning waistline.

However, somewhere along the way that got sidelined as party preparations followed by wedding arrangements took precedence over everything else and I ended up being not only a larger than life party girl but also the big bridesmaid I hadn’t wanted to be.

A few unflattering photos and a wedding video where I wasn’t caught at any of my best angles later though, and it was enough to spur me on to finally do something about it.

There’s nothing quite like watching a frumpy tubby woman waddling and sweating profusely on the reception dance floor thinking she looks cool but instead bringing to mind Anne Widdecombe during a dance sequence on Strictly, and then realising its you to give you a swift kick up your ample backside and straight through the doors of your local slimming world meeting.

So that’s where I’ll be every Monday night now for the time being as realising that to carry the weight off I’m clocking in at presently healthily I would have to be well over 6ft 8 has been a real eye opener for me .

At 40 years old I’ve quite probably had all I’m going to get in the growing stakes at 5ft if I’m honest , so a regime of healthier eating and being more active sounds far less extreme than being stretched out on a rack every evening , I think you’ll agree.

I’ve had one weigh in so far with a loss of 1 and a half pounds so hopefully it’s onwards and upwards from here.

And who knows , last time I shed a lot of weight and gained what I’d lost in confidence I ended up having the guts to do the course that lead to me writing this column here, so maybe some time soon I’ll be ticking off all those other things on my resolution list as achieved .

 

 

 

 

 

ANTI SOCIAL MEDIA

A member of a facebook group through the kindness of their heart posts a status upon the page saying” if you wish to offer help to the refugees please join our group here” and instead of deciding quietly whether it is or isn’t for them, fellow members bombard them with a torrent of abuse for even suggesting such a thing.

It never occurs that there is an important word at the start of that sentence that some are clearly missing and that they would do well to actually pay attention to as it completely changes perspective on what the statement is saying.

The word is so small you couldn’t blame some for missing it but it’s one that puts a total new spin on whether someone is ordering you to do something or giving you the choice to make your own decision.

And that word is if, they are asking you if you’d like to, not telling you have to, some would benefit   greatly in learning the difference before stomping all over other peoples beliefs with their opinions.

 

AGE APP-PROPRIATE

You’re only as old as the man/woman you feel so the old adage goes and if you’re signed up to any social media site then no doubt your timeline has been awash with friends sharing their results obtained from the Microsoft how old app this week.

Some will be jubilant about the outcome that uploading a photo to it reveals, others not so much with its forecast of premature ageing.

But before we start throwing our toys out of the pram or declaring “it wouldn’t of happened in my day” it’s worth remembering that other  well used motto “age ain’t nothing but a number “ and if that’s true technology is in its infancy and still has a lot to learn when judging reality.

On the other hand though if it wants to put yours truly at 23, 17 years younger than i actually am this year then that’s just fine and dandy by me!

CAN I JUST STOP YOU .....

You’ve dropped the kids at school , your housework for the week is done , what shall I do you think to yourself , what can I get up to in this couple of hours exclusive to me.

So you decide to venture out for a bit of retail therapy.

You’ve planned exactly where you want to go, what you want to do and intend to enjoy your day at a pace that’s leisurely, calm and solely about you.

And as you start the day you hope that this will be how it continues but you know you have to keep your wits about you because they’re everywhere, watching, waiting, preparing for that moment you let your guard down and then they’ll be on to you, going for the kill.

Out of the shadows they swarm, pen, clipboard or leaflet in hand, you know they’re just trying to do their job but if you’re just trying to get from one place to another without too much interruption it can start to get a bit annoying .

Can I stop you my love, who’s your energy provider, can I interest you in this, that or the other?

The list of open questions with which to catch you and reel you in is endless as they pursue you with almost stalkerish zeal down the shopping mall or precinct.

It becomes a massive game of cat and mouse as they try to entice you into their trap and make you surrender those all important bank details and a signature in exchange for your freedom.

A simple polite no thank you will normally suffice in most cases if they start to get too near but there’s always that one who thinks they can make your business their business if only you’d answer their question on why you’re not interested.

And there’s really only one way to deal with this situation, if they fail to pick up on the massive hint you’re dropping by sprinting towards the nearest exit, stop off at that other stall as they follow you in hot pursuit and say “no I haven’t had an accident yet but if you wait a moment there might be one along in a minute “.

 

MAYBE ONE DAY CANCER WILL JUST BE MY STAR SIGN NOT A KILLER DISEASE

Trainers laced up tightly, check.

Number pinned securely to your chest, affirmative captain.

Pink Dame Edna style glasses in place, flowery crown looking splendid, yes most definitely.

Specially dyed vintage long line girdle worn over your t-shirt and leggings looking like a rose tinted superhero, all present and correct.

C’mon then girl this is it, you’re all suited and booted and cancer best prepare to take on the wrath of over a thousand women , for today’s the day Rochester turns pink as it hosts the race for life  and guess who’s in the running to give cancer a jolly good kick up the bits .

Well I say running but since we’ve just done a warm up and I’m already knackered I think we know that’s not going to be happening so I make my way over to the blue jogging section with the rest of my clique.

 We wait overlooking Boley hill then a klaxon blows heartily and it’s off down the high street we go in a river of pink t shirts, tutus, feather boas and deely boppers.

Trainers pad slowly and steadily on the pavement , the jogging idea has already proved a tad over optimistic to keep going and as the heat emanating from my calves threatens to light any nearby barbeques I switch to my much preferred pedestrian mode of brisk walking.

And as I stroll along I take time to read the labels everyone has on their backs beholding their reasons for putting themselves regardless of fitness level through 5k on a lovely summer’s morning.

It’s for mothers, fathers, grandparents, friends, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters and other loved ones.

Those who’ve been taken from them, those who have beaten their illness and those who are fighting still.

Every person here in all their pinkest finery is doing this because they’ve been affected in some way by this disease that doesn’t care who you are or what life you still have to live yet.

So as I creak past the finishing line some 50 minutes after I started, I’m quite proud of myself for doing it despite not being the next Usain Bolt and being desperately in need of some new feet.

For every little helps no matter how fast ,slow ,sparkly or sporty it is ,in the fight to hope that one day cancer will only be my star sign not a killer disease.

with service like this who needs enemies

When I think about the time I waste in my life I’m pretty sure a huge amount of it is spent trying to pick up prescriptions from our local pharmacy.

On more than one occasion, I’ve turned up to collect one only to be told that nothing under that name was delivered  from the village surgery whereby a wild goose chase ensues in a bid to locate the elusive list of medical needs.

On others it has been mislaid although there’s definitely a record of it arriving and I’m left standing for ages as the blame is passed from pillar to post before they even think about sorting the error out for me.

So to hear “ oh yes it’s definitely here , it’ll be ready for you this afternoon “ about the latest one 24 hours previous to picking it up was really quite amazing .

However I should’ve known better than to be lulled into a false sense of security as 24 hours later I ended up waiting 15 minutes for medication that hadn’t been bagged up let alone put on the collection shelf yet.

With service like this I suppose it’s lucky none of us suffers from anything life threatening really!

JUST CALL ME JULIE ANGUISHED

I do like to try and keep my writing fresh and avoid repeating the same old things but as I walk round the areas where I live and grew up I’m quite ashamed some days of just how badly we treat it.

 And it’s for this reason that I find myself drawn back to a couple of my favourite subjects quite frequently.

“You’re completely obsessed with dog poo and litter” my other half was heard to remark recently after I’d had yet another hissy fit over the state of our streets so I would imagine if I were to lecture you on it sternly again it might become a little bit boring.

Therefore instead of getting rant lyrical with you, I’ve decided on a different approach this week.

So please, come sit down upon the ground and for your delight I’ll sing....

 (Julie Andrews, Rodgers and Hammerstein, fans of the sound of music you may want to cover your ears now, there’s a reason the songwriter of the family is my brother and not me)

1) Red bull can in rose bush,

Crisp packet in ribbons,

Pie wrapper discarded, pop bottle that glistens.

Dog poo bag tied tightly, then slung in a tree.

Just some of the things that infuriate me.

*twirls madly in the dress she’s run up from some curtains, narrowly avoids breaking her neck after skidding in a huge pile of dog mess outside the doctors surgery *

2) Cream coated man walks a large fluffy poodle,

Uses walking stick as a golf club to get rid of its do-do,

Scratch cards are dumped roadside because of no win,

Despite a lotto ticket trail leading straight to a bin.

*runs across grassy playing field at the park, has to stop to pick chewing gum and dog ends off of her shoes *

3) Takeaway boxes with red ketchup splashes,

Chips, pitta and salad speckle the pavement in lashes.

Clear, brown and green bottles smashed to smithereens

Lay there on the kerb next to gnawed chicken wings.

*frees small animal with its head stuck in a tin and bird tangled in beer six pack plastic ring *

4) When you’re shopping, when you’re eating, when your treat is had

Please do try and make use of the litter bins.

And then maybe Medway won’t look so bad.

GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN -MEDWAY MESSENGER -13/04/15

BUT I'M A GIRL .....

I believe I may have referred to myself not being a very girly girl before in this column and a couple of incidents recently have done little to quell that depiction i have of myself.

From receiving a letter addressed to Mr Page to a bus driver calling me son despite the fact I was wearing a lovely vintage dress and the brightest red lipstick, i do wonder sometimes if that  even despite my best efforts to be ladylike I’m about as feminine as Les Dawson and Roy Barraclough portraying  Cissy and Ada .

My suspicions were further confirmed last week as my other half and I discussed the delivery of our new bathroom suite.

“Apparently, the delivery driver only brings it to the door so we need two big strong blokes to carry it in at this end “he informed me as he browsed through his emails.

“Well you’re one of them “said I “so who are you going to ask to help you “

“Oh don’t be silly, you, obviously “came the reply

Of course, I might have guessed!

GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN - MEDWAY MESSENGER - 13/04/15

 

 

LOOKEY LIKEYS

Everyone has a double so they say; that somewhere out in the world there walks a person who is your mirror image.

A friend of mine has a doppelganger so eerily similar living here in the Medway towns that she’s got quite used to getting texts from friends saying they’ve just seen her in places she’s never been .

However unless you’re one of identical twins, triplets etc the chances of meeting yourself in duplicate is probably highly unlikely and it’s more probable that the person others will say you resemble is someone out there in the realm of celebrity.

My other half for instance has been told many a time that he looks like actor Martin Shaw both in his roles as Doyle from the professionals and Inspector George Gently.

And more recently he’s been christened with the nickname “ Mickey Pearce “ after some photos from his youth in which he sported a massive mop of curly hair and a dodgy moustache revealed a stunning likeness to the only fools and horses character .

However he’s not the only member of our household who resembles  a character from the world of comedy.

 Over the years I have been compared to both Mel and Sue, Dawn French and the character of Alice from the Vicar of Dibley but without fail if there’s someone trying to work out the answer to “who is it you remind me of “when faced with me and my “dazzling “personality more often than not it will be Kathy Burke.

Sometimes it’s her specifically as a comedy writer /actress and her mannerisms but generally it does seem to be her in the role of Kevin the teenager’s best friend Perry.

I could blame the years I wore my hair short, dark and clipped to the side or the fact that maybe sometimes I do come across a bit like an awkward teenage boy played by a woman I suppose but when I think about it , it could have been worse .

I’d much rather have people think “yes thank you Mrs. Patterson “when they look at me if I’m honest, than oh look its Waynetta Slob.

And at least it’s a step up from the lookalike I had before Kevin and Perry started “largin’ it up” in Ibiza.

For ,and I think you might be sensing some kind of theme here , previous to watching Kathy sending up Liam Gallagher whilst dressed as a young male with a drawn on beard , my short stature and tomboyish tendency drew many a comparison with Wee Jimmy Krankie .

So when during the leaders debates last week I noticed that Nicola Sturgeon was also being compared with Janette Tough’s naughty schoolboy comedy creation it brought back some memories and it got me thinking.

Much has been made of the comparison of Ed Miliband to Wallace of Wallace and Gromit  , David Cameron likening himself to Thomas the tank engine only to be rebuffed with the suggestion he’s more like posh engine Spencer  and I’m pretty sure green candidates must grow tiresome of references to the Wombles .

So it strikes me as odd that no-one else seems to have noticed the staggering likeness between a certain 80’s kids TV character and the leader of one of the other parties.

Come along you can’t fail to have noticed it as he stares out from billboards across the country and live into our front rooms via the medium of TV.

That smug look, that tendency to want to butt in and interrupt pompously while others are trying to have their say.

Surely I can’t be the only one who’s spotted the uncanny similarity between Nigel Farage and Zippy from Rainbow?

GIRL FROM THE NECK DOWN - MEDWAY MESSENGER 27/04/15