MOTHER CARE ?

The clue should really have been in the name for this retail establishment shouldn’t it?

When Zoë Frangou visited this particular store in Bluewater with her 3 month old baby in September and he woke up ravenous from 5 hours sleep you’d have thought this would be the one place that wouldn’t have issues with a woman finding a discreet corner in which to feed her baby seeing as their target customer was more or less being epitomised in the situation going on before them.

Instead she was met with disdain from one member of staff who demanded that she stop what she was doing immediately and move as they were trying to rearrange the shop and it was dangerous.

The company has since apologised to Zoe for her treatment and promised to make sure that every employee is aware of their breastfeeding policies.

It might also be worth making clear to them that the best representation of your company is to provide exactly what it states with its title, don’t you reckon?

Mothercare.

CHRISTMAS IS COMING ......SINCE EARLY SEPTEMBER

Pumpkins artistically carved with designs that it seems a shame to relegate them to the brown recycling bin just yet, scary spider webbing, ghost lanterns and various other accoutrements of a scary nature , the remains of Halloween are still to be seen decorating many a front garden wherever you happen to be living at this minute.

Trick or treat candy has been scoffed or put away for another day and the costumes, fake blood and scary face paints have been put back in storage again until next year.

For the next couple of weeks or so the night sky will be punctuated with bright colours, loud flashes and big bangs as fireworks and bonfires take centre stage.

However while we’ve been momentarily distracted by all the other goings on in the calendar something else has been quietly and stealthily infiltrating itself into the shops right under our very noses.

For last week it was all about the orange and black in the shopping aisles with just a tinge of red, green and season’s greetings, however come the morning light on the 1st November it was obvious there had been a major upheaval in the world of retail and that much as we’d like to deny it, there’s no doubt now that a certain time of year is definitely on its way.

The eagle eyed amongst you may have spotted that its invasion started small as early on as September with the odd shelf of mince pies, marzipan and puddings.

Then slowly the chocolate selection boxes and tubs of sweets started appearing on special offer in piles by the entrance, enticing you with their prices, making you worry that if you didn’t buy now you might live to regret it but knowing full well you’ll probably still have to replace them before December 25^th because they’re far too tempting to just sit in the cupboard for the next month or two.

Cards, crackers, gift wrap and parcel tags have started to replace the traditional fare of soft drinks, sweets and cheap DVDs by the checkouts and down the aisle that only last week boasted skeleton, zombie, vampire and werewolf ephemera there is so much glitter, red and white packaging and winter foliage it can only mean one thing that the festive season is now at last in full swing .

Keep your eyes and wits about you though for the way things seem to go in the retail world , I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the Easter egg delivery is due any minute....now !

 

SAFE SEX ?

Perusing the shelves in my local supermarket the other day in my search for something to soothe the stomach pains of one of my offspring my attention was grabbed momentarily by something on the top shelf.

Now hang on a minute and stop tittering at the back you cheeky devils, while the subject might be of a saucy nature I believe that maybe what I have to say is a completely valid point.

For not only can I not believe just how expensive condoms are if you actually have to buy them but they are also security tagged in our particular shop , meaning that it’s a right old performance just to purchase them and not exactly that discreet .

I mean maybe it’s just me being picky but doesn’t keeping such an item under maximum security seem just a little like they’re taking the phrase “safe sex “to the extreme.

CLOWNING AROUND

Do you remember that old chestnut your mother used to say?

You know the one she’d crack out whenever you’d done something a bit silly and the only valid reason you had to explain yourself with was that all your friends had told you to do it.

Yeah it’s all coming back to you now isn’t it; the disappointment etched into her face as you stood there and protested your innocence with such conviction, the withering stare which you knew was to be soon closely followed by a familiar declaration.

“Would you jump off a cliff just because so and so told you to do it?”

To which of course you would answer no and a discussion would ensue about not having to be a sheep following the crowd that it was possible to have fun and be sensible at the same time and you didn’t have to give into peer pressure it was better to be unique.

So by the time the majority of us have left our school days well behind we’ve given up copying every move that our associates make , forging our own route through life and not being quite so influenced by the motto “everybody else is doing it so why don’t we “.

However as you know there’s always a small minority for whom the playground mentality never quite leaves and with their biggest ally the internet as their trusty sidekick they blunder on into young adulthood and beyond following every silly little trend or craze religiously.

 Aping stupid stunts and pranks that they’ve seen someone on their computer screen do in a sad case of “look at me being wacky and zany, please like me “not ever realising that maybe if they were to come up with an exclusive idea of their own people might actually find them slightly less annoying and respect them a little bit more.

It’s actually a well known fact that the rough translation of internet prankster is massive irritant which means anyone who copies stuff that they do just to scare , intimidate and annoy others is just a milder watered down form but no less of a nuisance.

So take a tip from me, a mother, someone who’s had to utter that dear old chestnut in the past.

This virtual circus of a world is already full of clowns behaving like idiots , some of them even want to be in charge of running countries , grow up , do something amazing with your life and earn some respect an honourable way instead of just being a lemming and jumping off that cliff.

 

 

 

 

WOOFERS AND TWEETERS

Maybe it’s just where I’m getting on a bit now.

Or perhaps I’m just overcome by the extensive range of things they’ve got on show.

The tech talk surrounding it might as well be in hieroglyphics for all it means to me and you can quote 4G, GB, IOS, MP at me till you’re blue in the face and I’ll still have absolutely no idea what you’re harping on about because despite your dazzling array of data on the said product ” I want something to call, text, take photo’s on and a little social media” is all the information I know.

I’m sure I cant be the only one who feels like Mel Smiths character on the Not the nine o clock news gramophone sketch , confused by the modern talk of woofers and tweeters and who knows what else when all you want to do is purchase a new mobile phone ?

WOLF IN WHISTLERS CLOTHING

The wolf whistle, once the mainstay of every bawdy comedy sketch, sitcom or film, let rip from its owners mouth to express desire for what it sees before them, yet you barely hear it at all these days.

Some will say it’s all down to that good old institution of Political correctness gone mad, that you aren’t allowed to say or do anything nowadays for fear of offending somebody in some way but I beg to differ, it’s not yet another thing hijacked by the fun police you’re not allowed to do anymore it’s just that what was once something that was perhaps a fellow trying to pay someone a compliment seems to have evolved into something that at times comes across as a lot more sinister.

Having gone through puberty at quite an early age myself and being gifted with slightly more front than the average 11 year old as you can imagine in the past 30 years I’ve endured more than my own fair share of harassment for the size of certain parts of my figure .

I could have let it upset me, idiots shouting out of car windows or yelling at me in street about my large appendages but instead I used to just react with a well timed “well what do you know, how did they get there, well spotted, I’ve never noticed them before “and leave them dumbfounded and confused as they were delivered a retort they hadn’t expected and I flounced off into the distance.

Yet even behind my breastplate of steel even I have had my moments when what was apparently supposed to be a “compliment” was enough to reduce me to tears.

Picture the scene , it’s your birthday , you’re not exactly football’s biggest fan , however England are playing ,which would be upsetting enough as it is I know , but it’s an important match in a major tournament so there weren’t many other places you could expect to be going than to the local pub to watch the game.

Now imagine spending the evening trying to have a good time despite it not being your thing whilst being bellowed constantly from every side of where you’re sitting to be a good sport for the gents involved by revealing what lies beneath what you’re wearing , although not quite so politely as i am wording it .

I’m guessing that you like me would find it after about the hundredth time somewhat wearying and having not been in the best mood anyway to be spending your birthday in a dingy old boozer watching England doing what they do best, in other words losing, you might feel a little emotional at best at the pack mentality of some men once they’ve got a couple of drinks down their necks.

That incident is nothing however to the sort of abuse I hear being bawled everyday at women and girls in the street, in fact I was disgusted to hear some of the things that were being called out to girls by one of the local secondary schools recently, not just by kids as young as my own but also by adult males who should really know better.

Joanna Lumley was quoted this week as saying that wolf whistlers are harmless and women should not be such delicate flowers and regard it as a compliment.

However there’s a vast difference between a small burst of tune to express “you look alright, darling” and the abuse and pursuit of someone whose feelings for you may or may not be reciprocated.

IF EVERYBODY LOOKED THE SAME ....

Hello candidates and welcome, we have the job of your dreams up for grabs today, however before we make our final decision, we must first of all insist that you participate in a little exercise that helps us sort the wheat from the chaff, the weak from the strong and the yes that’ll do nicely’s from the no definitely not’s.

The concept of the game is very easy; you might even recognise it from your childhood, the aim is to be the only one left standing, so without further ado let us proceed.

Are we all ready, lovely, then our first question for you to ponder and answer in the affirmative by staying on your feet or the negative by placing your bottom back on your seat is

“Do you have all the relevant qualifications to do this job?”

My calculations confirm that’s a full house for the yeses so let’s move on to something a bit more challenging.

Question number 2.

“Are you willing to put your heart and soul into this job to show how much passion you have for it, endeavouring night and day to make sure you and the company are working to your highest ability and getting the best results you can achieve?”

All of you again, excellent, that is good to hear, however you’re making this very difficult for us to choose just one of you so let’s get down to the real nitty gritty now or we’ll be here all day .

Question 3.

“Do you understand that this job requires that you must always be well turned out, smart and nicely presented? “

That’s all of you again, fantastic , however you’ve jumped the gun a little there as we haven’t actually finished the question so I’ll carry on if I may with the second part which is ;

 “Do you have any piercings, tattoos, brightly coloured hair in all shades of the rainbow or extreme haircuts or styling?”

You do, well I’m afraid to tell you that unfortunately unlike the previous questioning this affirmative is in fact classed as a negative so I’m afraid it’s a goodbye to you, yes I know you’re some of the most qualified applicants for the job however we can’t have any of that sort of uniqueness in this establishment so please close the door on your way out, cheerio.

Next up ladies you’d do so much better in your job if you slapped a bit of make up on your face and tottered round in a pair of towering high heels that kill your feet.

What’s that , you don’t agree , I’m terribly sorry,  that’s the end of the line for you then , mind how you go .

Well, that seems to have narrowed things down a bit, who have we got left, just you in the corner there.

That makes you our grand winner then, welcome to the company.

What’s that, you only popped in to borrow a pen, oh well never mind I’m sure you’ll pick the job up as you go along; you certainly look the part anyway....

It amazes me that in this day and age such things as those above can be the sole reasons for why somebody gets overlooked when they go for a job interview, surely the most important thing you’re looking for in a candidate is how brilliant and dedicated they are to their chosen occupation and as long as they’re smart and well presented it shouldn’t matter about what they choose to decorate themselves with on their rise to the top.

 

 

 

KILL THE CALL NOT OTHER PEOPLE

As a learner driver for the past couple of years I’ve seen some quite idiotic behaviour out on the roads and not all of it my own.

Boy racers, not necessarily always of the male variety, putting their pedal to the metal and scorching the floor.

White van men thinking they rule the highways and women doing their make up in the rear view mirror as they drive along oblivious to the fact that one false move could put that mascara wand straight through their eye socket and them permanently off the road.

But without a doubt the most stupid behaviour always involves that silly little contraption we use to communicate with each other.

Be it taking a call, snapping a selfie or just checking texts or social media , it takes just seconds to lose concentration and for disaster to appear so maybe it’s time to kill the call or other stuff until you’ve stopped somewhere safe because it’s much preferable to killing yourself or other people.

UNIFORMLY WRONG

September 1986, approximately 90 new students including myself walk through the gates of their new secondary school.

Our uniforms are neatly pressed, some have been purchased from the official school uniform shop and ticked off the list provided with military precision, whilst others whose parents bank balance doesn’t quite stretch to the prices of buying every item in there have managed to get pieces elsewhere that look the same but are cheaper and do the job just as well.

Some of these children will go on to become teachers, authors, doctors, solicitors, lawyers, join the police force or become high flying business people.

One will even go on to write a column for the local paper despite being told by her English teacher that she couldn’t write anything interesting or inspiring.

The one thing they will all have in common though is that while some of those on that success story list had the exact regulation school uniform , games kit , school bag and best leather shoes their parents could afford , some of them didn’t , some of them were the kids whose school wardrobe was always a cobbled together Frankenstein’s monster comprising of pieces bought from various chain stores such as BHS ,Littlewoods and Peacocks , markets ,catalogues and of course the much dreaded previously used by another member of the family “ hand me down “.

However they never let what they were clothing in their bodies in everyday to go to school and learn stand in the way of what they were trying to achieve, in fact I bet they never even crossed their minds for a minute.

For to them it just was what it was , just a uniform , something that made them all look the same and smart regardless of what shop it was bought from , nothing amazing , nothing revolutionary that made them think or behave any better , it was just there.

Yes there will always be those who try to play the system to suit themselves so a good set of rules put in place helps to prevent this occurring, however if you want your school to be achieving better grades as Matthew Tate from Hartsdown Academy in Margate keeps telling us when he appears on the news, surely it’s more important to have pupils in the school being taught rather than sending them home day after day for wearing the wrong pair of shoes?

STRICTLY ONE DANCING

Bring down the mirror ball, slip into your slinkiest sequinned costume and get your feet tapping in time to the beat as you pull your best dancing shoes on.

For strictly is back , shaking and shimmying its latest contestants collective funky stuff straight into our living rooms every weekend and adding sparkle to our lives as the darker nights and colder months draw in.

However while I love the style and grace that the dancers display as they take to the floor I have to admit that the whole couple dancing thing has never been something I feel particularly drawn towards doing .

 It’s not that I’ve got two left feet it’s just that any attempts at dancing with a partner have always felt awkward and like I’m one of the Chuckle brothers trying to singlehandedly shift a large wardrobe so in the words of Billy Idol and Generation X I’ll just stick to dancing with myself and carry on flying solo .

DOING IT WAGHORN STYLE ....

On a rare Friday night out and with time to spare before we made our way along to Sun Pier House for one of the brilliant Homespun festival gigs my partner and I decided to pay a visit to and sample the delights of the newest pub in town.

The old post office has certainly scrubbed up well in its new guise as the Thomas Waghorn.

 The surfaces are sparkling, the carpets are clean, the garden area is tidy and neat and apart from the fact some of the staff are obviously still only just finding their feet which I’m sure will improve once they get into the swing of things it very nearly earns itself a total thumbs up from me.

There is however something distinctly lacking in this palatial new establishment devoted to the man of Medway legend that once added would make its transformation complete.

For Thomas Waghorn just isn’t himself without his traffic cones I think you’ll all agree

DOING IT DOWNING STREET STYLE

Greetings fashion fans, it’s been a strange few weeks here in Westminster .

Changes are afoot, the big icons are sticking with the old classics that they know have served them well over the years, however hot on their heels and hoping to make their mark with their radical new directions and contemporary ideas are some exciting newcomers to the scene.

But before we get bogged down in all that serious running the country malarkey, let’s take a look at who reigns supreme as your favourite fashionista here in the style haven that is Downing Street in our affectionately titled showcase “ Politics Prêt a porter “

First up is David, sporting a fetching suit and tie combo, both are in a stunning shade of blue, a hue that not only matches his party allegiance but also his current mood too.

Following close behind him is George who has boldly accessorised his simple capsule wardrobe with a bold red vintage case that’s just the right side of tatty for that shabby chic look and a must have for transporting all those budget busting essentials to and from Parliament in.

Arriving in a cloud of wild peroxide tresses we have Boris doing that “got up and stepped almost immediately into a wind tunnel “dishevelled look he always does so well whilst hiding out in the shadows we have Nigel and Jeremy, both sporting a variation on that perennial style favourite , tweed .

Nigel opts for the country gent look that’s so popular with all the hipsters about town who wouldn’t know a pheasant from a grouse even if it flew up into their face and pecked its name into their forehead.

Meanwhile Jeremy styles his into a casual and easy going beatnik librarian look that not only makes him come across as completely approachable but also like the older, wiser brother of Mr Bean.

Now by the time you read this and have a chortle about how ridiculous it all seems, Theresa May will be firmly ensconced in her new role as our first female prime minister in nearly 26 years, so don’t you think it’s high time we stopped basing our judgements of her and any other female politicians on what they are wearing and their appearance and start taking notice of the important stuff that comes from that important organ that is situated between their ears.

MAYBE I'M HAVING SOME DEJA VU

Do you ever get that eerie feeling like you’ve done something or said something before?

Like the moment you’ve just experienced is so hauntingly similar to something you’ve previously encountered that it’s a little bit spooky, slightly unnerving and possibly even bordering on the brink of paranormal.

Well, before you shriek and call out the Ghostbusters to deal with this supernatural activity may I first please suggest that you check it’s not just being caused by the reading of your latest batch of daily Facebook memories.

I thought that maybe it was just me having weird déjà vu moments courtesy of this but it seems I’m not the only one as I’ve had a couple of other friends mention how  they’ve had things come up on it that echo something they’ve posted on there about recently.

Which makes you wonder, is it all just a coincidence or are our lives just one infinite circle of history repeating?

a fool and his money

A fool and his money are soon parted so goes the old saying.

 And there’s no fool quite like the one who showboats and flaunts his wealth in full view of everyone who has worked their guts out for him to achieve his millionaire status.

As Philip Green welcomes a new super yacht into his family and lives it up at parties with the cream of the supermodel and celebrity crop, BHS staff all across the country are setting up everything must go sales and winding up the closing down of their shops.

While he roasts himself on holiday beneath the bright Grecian sun, they’ll be toiling away as customers pick the store carcasses for that last bargain crumb.

He squirms when he’s questioned offering pitiful excuses while they have to carry on regardless being polite in the face of his rudeness.

They don’t know whether when they reach his age, they’ll have anything to live on, yet they’ll still give their all to their job as its sell by date fast approaches.

Having had the misfortune in my youth to have worked for one of the stores he’s bought then cast aside for something better I know how gutting it must be for those involved and who deserve to have been treated much better .

From the word go there seemed to be a lack of any kind of care for those actually involved in the day to day job of selling their products and customer service, as long as the money was rolling in for them to spend on their frivolities it didn’t matter that their big plans and clever tricks were actually duds in disguise and sending the companies in question towards financial ruin.

Area managers were drafted in that had impressive university degrees but no idea what it was actually like to work on a shop floor then couldn’t understand why their latest big idea for how to sell to the public didn’t have the crowds surging through the front door.

And so when it all went pear shaped they all jumped ship and left the poor abandoned crews to guide their vessels on one last voyage that would end up with them being shipwrecked on the shore.

A knight of the realm should above all else show great bravery and courtesy decrees a search of the chivalric code on Wikipedia whilst trying to find out what it takes to be bestowed with the title of Sir, so maybe  Philip Green should read up a bit on his job title and do his honourable duty instead of playing the jester with those who could set him up for an almighty fall.

We’ve all been there, haven’t we?

Been part of a team who‘ve come up with a brilliant new idea and worked really hard to get it running to its full potential or a group that uses all its members’ powers to its best abilities to get the result it wants.

And sometimes there will be one member of the crew who for one reason or another stands out as the star of the squad that everyone gravitates towards despite the fact the rest of the bunch have all shown the same level of dedication and it becomes quite gutting that this lone individual gets all the praise while they are rendered invisible.

So you can understand why Dan Goodfellow’s mum upon her son being part of an Olympic medal winning synchronised duo was bluer than the Rio diving pool used to be when nearly every photo covering the story the next day only showed Tom Daley. 

Now then, as you may know if you read my column regularly, Jamie Oliver and I don’t always agree on things.

Whilst I wholeheartedly have gotten behind the removal of turkey twizzlers and the like from school menu’s so  that some children might have at least one healthy meal in their day, we did fall out slightly this year over his comment that breast feeding is easy despite the fact as far as I know he’s never actually lactated.

He has however since apologised for that statement and as a result my one woman comedy show “ the naked breast “ never got past it’s pilot episode .

So now, Master Oliver and I are back as bosom buddies once again, there was a slight slip when I suggested maybe he’d been indulging in a few too many of his slightly richer recipes when he appeared outside parliament in a fleecy hoodie that made him look chunkier than normal and implied he should practise what he preaches as after all ladies aren’t we forever being force-fed the fact that the best way to drop weight after the birth of a newborn is to breastfeed.

 However I was soon chastised for my fat shaming and we swiftly moved on with our lives which this week has seen Jamie and his lovely wife Jools welcome the fifth Oliver into their fold.

Baby boy, who has yet to be named but weighed in at the same amount as 16 packs of butter so we’re told, and mum are doing well and were allowed to go home that same afternoon but what has really got everyone talking is the fact that some of the younger members of the Oliver brood were allowed into the delivery room as he was being born.

Older sisters Poppy Honey and Daisy Boo aged 14 and 12 respectively, were granted entry towards the end of their mothers labour to cut their new baby brothers umbilical cord and now the world and its panel of amateur experts are up in arms about whether they should have been exposed to the “brutality of labour “in all its glory at all.

So I have to, controversially some might say, agree wholeheartedly that yes it was a good idea with the midwife’s consent for the girls to be quite so involved in the proceedings.

For maybe if more kids, girls as well as boys, were to witness firsthand the gory and bloody real life version of what pregnancy and having babies involves instead of the sugar coated Instagram filtered adaption some celebrity magazines and social media present to them as being their ideal dream to aim for then maybe it could achieve in getting through to them something that school sex education lessons have tried to do for years.

There he sits, the ultimate in silver foxness .

He said he’d do it if his favourite team won the premiership title and despite our doubts to the contrary he’s kept his promise , reclining resplendently  in all his undressed glory upon our screens late one Saturday night on Auntie Beeb .

White boxer shorts pristine and ironed, emblazoned with his beloved Leicester city’s logo, he takes command of the Match of the day studio and reviews the days games whilst social media goes mad at how fit he looks for a man of his age and complaints are made that if he looks that good why isn’t he wearing something more budgie smuggler style to show off his damn fine rippling torso.

Debate rages as to what technically classes as a pair of pants with some feeling that the vast expanse of cotton were a bit of a copout but generally the stunt has gone down well and by half time he’s covered himself up in his usual tailored finery so they can get back to the job in hand and talk seriously about the sporting highlights of the day without his fellow pundits being distracted by his topless chest being on display.

And I would imagine ,just like back in the 80’s when model Nick Kamen stripped down to his undies in the launderette to wash his Levi 501’s, inspired by their latest outing on the small screen that many clothing retailers will find the demand for the cotton men’s undergarment goes through the roof this summer as the temperature continues rising thanks to national treasure Gary Lineker.

 For as my dear old Nan used to say you need something comfortable that lets your skin breathe around your nether regions in this hot weather so you can understand why a charming tailored pair of shorts was Helen Skelton’s  outfit of choice whilst covering the Olympics in Rio recently.

 Yet instead of being applauded for her practical and sartorial style she was ripped to shreds for daring to look like she’d “forgotten to put her trousers on” to report from the big sporting event of the year.

Ironic really considering some of those complaining about the size of her hot pants were probably berating what they thought was her fashion faux pas whilst wearing a similar if less chic version of it as they sat  sweltering in this heat we’ve been experiencing ourselves as they watched  her report on athletes wearing considerably less material than her.

 And as she* gasp*at one point happened to reveal a tiny glimpse of brassiere to the world it wasn’t as if she was relating to us all the latest sporting news topless like our favourite grey haired crisp stealer.

 So come on world get a life it’s the 21^st century now not strait laced times of the past, don’t tell women what they can or can’t wear while men are allowed to just wear whatever the hell they want whether they have a six pack or a giant beer belly.

Freedom means giving people the right to choose whatever feels right and comfortable for themselves be it shorts, boxers or burkini, bellow and demand that everyone must comply with one blinkered view of what is “normal” and you’re completely missing the point of that word actually defines.

Lessons in learning

September 1986, approximately 90 new students including myself walk through the gates of their new secondary school.

Our uniforms are neatly pressed, some have been purchased from the official school uniform shop and ticked off the list provided with military precision, whilst others whose parents bank balance doesn’t quite stretch to the prices of buying every item in there have managed to get pieces elsewhere that look the same but are cheaper and do the job just as well.

Some of these children will go on to become teachers, authors, doctors, solicitors, lawyers, join the police force or become high flying business people.

One will even go on to write a column for the local paper despite being told by her English teacher that she couldn’t write anything interesting or inspiring.

The one thing they will all have in common though is that while some of those on that success story list had the exact regulation school uniform , games kit , school bag and best leather shoes their parents could afford , some of them didn’t , some of them were the kids whose school wardrobe was always a cobbled together Frankenstein’s monster comprising of pieces bought from various chain stores such as BHS ,Littlewoods and Peacocks , markets ,catalogues and of course the much dreaded previously used by another member of the family “ hand me down “.

However they never let what they were clothing in their bodies in everyday to go to school and learn stand in the way of what they were trying to achieve, in fact I bet they never even crossed their minds for a minute.

For to them it just was what it was , just a uniform , something that made them all look the same and smart regardless of what shop it was bought from , nothing amazing , nothing revolutionary that made them think or behave any better , it was just there.

Yes there will always be those who try to play the system to suit themselves so a good set of rules put in place helps to prevent this occurring, however if you want your school to be achieving better grades as Matthew Tate from Hartsdown Academy in Margate keeps telling us when he appears on the news, surely it’s more important to have pupils in the school being taught rather than sending them home day after day for wearing the wrong pair of shoes?

                                                                                                                                                                            

 

 

 

 

NOT SO HEFTY HIDEAWAY GIRL or how my weight loss is going so far

It’s all gone a bit quiet on the weight loss front, has she fallen off the wagon?

I imagine this is possibly what some of you have been thinking after the myriad of time that has passed in between now and my last update on how it’s all been going.

So I’m happy to report to you that after quite a good few months of ups, downs and non moving positions on the scales that i finally reached my goal of weighing 2 stone less.

The bridesmaid dress that started all this is now packed away until I can get it taken in as I am able to climb into it through the neck hole now and spin round in it without touching the sides so I am thinking of raising a bit of money towards the alterations by hiring it out as an events marquee.

And so now its onwards and upwards towards stone number 3.

There’s a time and place for a lot of things.

As children we are taught and moulded by those around us to understand what, why, where and when that statement should come into play and in turn hopefully we pass on those little gems of knowledge to future generations so maybe they can learn perhaps from our past mistakes and improve themselves in areas where they might be in some way lacking knowledge.

It’s an ongoing process, lessons can be learnt everyday and as in every educational capacity there will always be those who think they know best, don’t want to listen to what you have to say, think what you’ve said is all a pile of garbage or just want muck about, not giving a stuff about anyone else and their feelings regardless of the consequences.

 After all they’re” only joking “, they don’t really mean the stuff they said, it was only said in jest ,you should just chill out , not take life so seriously , words are only words and names are only names , they’re just little things that roll off the tongue , they don’t bust bones , they’ve never hurt anybody.

But that’s just it , they do , they pierce into the heart , make you feel unwanted , unloved and if you keep on passing that hatred on it just keeps on filtering on through from generation to generation.

We are not born like the Daleks as creatures created to hate, we are born as babies to grow and learn and thrive and love but if we are taught something by somebody like a parent or someone we hold great trust in there’s a chance we will believe in what they have said verbatim unless someone has the sense to put you right in your education.

So as you can imagine it truly appalled me to observe someone holding court with a group of their friends outside a local primary this week spouting all manner of derogatory names and insults as children filed past on their way on into school and their own child sat lovingly in their arms quietly drinking in every single thing their beloved guardian had to say.

Like I said there’s a time and a place for lots of things but never is there an excuse for the use of any kind of racism.

You say you want Britain to be great again, so let’s do it, draw a line under all prejudices, bigotry and abuse of the past.

And for the sake of the future generations really let this be for them, a brand new start.                                                                                                                                                                                                   

 

 

 

 

Some decisions seem like such a good idea at the time, like they’ll make everyone’s life much easier, rid us of any inconvenience and generally get things moving a whole lot more smoothly than they were previously.

Brainstorming sessions will be set up in order to fine tune and iron out any little details that might cause problems within the proposed proceedings then there’ll be a pat on the back for all as they stand back and admire their expertise in knowing just how to execute the objective which will no doubt have the public fawning at their feet.

However if you were the person who had the bright idea to send a slow moving tractor out on one of the busiest work and school routes into town to trim back the excess foliage on the pavements during the morning rush hour recently I suggest you go and have a good hard look at why this might have been a slight oversight on your part and maybe explain why the public seem somewhat reticent in naming you their hero of the week.

Parentpay-n in the arse

“Great news, we’ve listened to your thoughts, ideas and suggestions on how we can make our service much more efficient, quicker and convenient to use so stand back and gaze in wonder and amazement at how easy your life will become once we set these new and improved methods into motion.”

It’s an age old story isn’t it , that little paragraph of promise that offers so much , gets our hopes up only to dash  them ruthlessly when it becomes apparent that if anything rather than making life less complicated it has actually made it far more time consuming and difficult than it was in the first place.

Those of you with children at school may have had the misfortune like I, to be acquainted with one such service as this.

It was designed to take the hassle out of having to remember to send your kids into school with money, eradicating the need for them to carry it on their person and so you could keep a closer eye on what they were spending.

I speak of course of the magic of Parentpay, where money is spent by the touch of a screen and topping up their account as long as you had a gadget handy used to be just as easy .

Many a time dinner money and school trips have been paid for in the blink of an eye whilst out and about with just a few clicks on the relevant sections and within a minute or so the funds were good to go.

And we’d been getting along just fine and dandy for the past two years until recently when somebody suddenly decided our lovely content relationship needed a bit of a makeover, rearranged everything and spoilt our easy going flow.

Gone was the straightforward add to basket and checkout method where you could chuck in everything you wanted to pay for, connect to your bank for a direct debit and go.

 Now you have to go through the rigmarole of waiting for your bank to top up your own account with funds before choosing which items you want to pay for one by one and confirming each one singularly whilst you contemplate throwing your phone, tablet or iPad out the nearest window as each page takes aeons to load up on the go slow.

So Parent pay a little suggestion from someone who happens to be that person that your name relates to;

If you’re going to market your new look as amazingly efficient and time saving it’s probably best to make sure that the process doesn’t take almost twice as long as it ever did before.

 

Here they come, with blatant disregard for the ways and culture of others, doing whatever the hell they like and not giving a damn about the consequences.

They wreck the cities and towns with their litter and volatile behaviour, claiming ignorance when challenged because they’d much rather communicate using their own lingo than learn to speak the dialect of the country that they are in.

Spoiling everyone else’s day just because things haven’t gone their way and certainly not giving two hoots whether their behaviour is entirely appropriate in front of those who might genuinely be trying to enjoy themselves while out with their partners , friends or kids.

They should show some respect, learn what is acceptable if they want to be allowed to stay, show that behaviour like this is not a reflection of what everybody is like where they come from because it only takes a small minority to tarnish the reputation of an entire country.

I know everyone feels passionate about their national team but it doesn’t give you an automatic right to behave like a total idiot and as disgracefully as some “fans “ have done so far at Euro 2016.

 

I love my music as I believe you may know if you follow my column regularly.

I’m quite content to listen to it through my headphones on the move or in the comfort of my own home but nothing quite beats the thrill of seeing your favourite acts live.

However there is many an irritation guaranteed to spoil your jollity whilst indulging in stimulation of the ears and eyes so with the festival season and castle concerts fast approaching, let me advise you on a couple of the most annoying so that you can be prepared and help prevent the spoiling of everybody else’s viewing and auditory experience with a little gig going etiquette guide.

So let’s kick things off with a personal bugbear and something that those classed as 5ft 3 and under will probably also identify with as being the bane of their life.

If you are lucky enough to be able to see no matter where you stand in the venue please do spare a thought for those who can’t as there’s nothing quite as gutting than having to spend the entire evening staring at the back of someone’s head or contorting yourself to catch a glimpse of the performance through the crook of an elbow.

Ditto anyone who puts up a large umbrella at open air concerts or thinks it’s ok to climb up onto the shoulders of a friend.

 The latter is only acceptable if you are a small child, if you are old enough to know better i would recommend purchasing a suit of armour from the merchandise stall if you plan on maintaining this position for the duration of the performance as by now not only will your ears be burning from the angry mutterings of those directly behind you but you are also now the prime target for any missiles and debris being thrown.

One for those blessed with beautiful long tresses now, if you feel the need to dance wildly, please be my guest, do your thing, go with the flow however do watch what you’re doing with your hair if the venue is packed tightly like a world record attempt at the biggest game of sardines as whipping someone repeatedly in the face with a follicular cat o nine tails isn’t the best way to create an amazing friendship bond.

And so to conclude we come upon the most recent annoyance to join us and perhaps the ultimate irritation for many.

If music be the food of love, play on said the bard, so it’s no surprise that many artist’s not just Adele get a bit miffed with and refuse to carry on playing to an audience that are so engrossed in trying to capture a tiny grainy often incoherent image that they don’t seem to be exhibiting  any kind of respect to what’s going on in front of them at all.

So  do your favourite artists and fellow audience members a favour, put down the iPads , tablets ,cameras and phones and use the amazing gadgets like your brain ,ears and eyes to create memories of the show.

 

 

A funny old game

Football, it’s a funny old game, so one beloved veteran football pundit of Saturday morning TV used to say.

As I’ve informed you before I’m no expert in this particular field of sporting achievement, so the question I have to ask comes from a purely curious point of view rather than that of ignorance and upon asking some who do have in interest in it it’s clear that it’s something that baffles some of them too.

 So let’s open up a right old can of worms in true football style, here we go, here we go, here we go.

A premiership football team manager gets sacked because his team haven’t been playing well and the best candidate the forces that be decide is suitable as his replacement is someone who’s been sacked from another team for exactly the same reason.

How no-one spots the glaringly obvious possible fatal flaw in that cunning master plan I’ll never know.

And they have the audacity to sing that the poor old referee should’ve gone to spec savers.....

EURO-2016-VISION

(Obviously this should be posted before the post on Eurovision , however as I am a technical dunce and have no idea how to rearrange it as such please do forgive me for the lack of order )

Now, I’m no football pundit, in fact if I were I’d probably be less the smooth suave sophistication of the silver fox that is Gary Lineker and more like the “I have absolutely no idea what’s going on Jeff, but I’ll just try to wing it by making it up as I go along and hope no-one notices” style of Chris Kamara, but wasn’t it great to see Leicester City waltz off with that Premiership League title.

There’s nothing we Brits like better than to see an underdog snatch a victory away from those who were so sure they were going to win just because of their popularity or notoriety who haven’t realised that you have to back up that sort of pomposity with a little bit of effort ,skill and quality .

So I was thinking maybe it might be worth a punt to get Claudio Ranieri to have a word with our UK Eurovision entrants, Joe and Jake, ahead of the song contest next week.

British Ham-stores

Hello children, are we all settled in?

 Sit up straight and face front please that’s lovely, let us begin.

Today I’d like to introduce you to some hardworking mice and tell you all about the trouble they had with a stout and portly feline whose name was Pip.

The main character in our rodent tale is a little mouse called Chris, who your storyteller had the good fortune to grow up with and learn great things from.

 So enough with this idle chit chat, let’s get straight on with setting the scene for our story....

Down amongst the nettles, beneath the brambles and the stones there stood a little store where a group of mice worked their fingers to the bone.

Lampshades and school uniform, cutlery and bedding, vests, pants, socks, stocking fillers, something for your wedding.

You name it and they’d have it, it used to be the only place to go but now business wasn’t quite as brisk, in fact it had become quite slow.

They were struggling to make ends meet one day when a stoutly pussycat came calling, he could help them out he said, he seemed so welcome and warming.

I’ll invest my money in you, I’ll make you happy, just wait and see, purred the stately puss as he requested the crème de la crème for his tea.

One mouse however had her misgivings about their furry saviour; there was something about Pip Vert she didn’t trust, which smelt somewhat of a traitor.

Her suspicions were confirmed one morning as she diligently toiled away, she had yet to meet the new boss face to face and they were due a visit today.

She became aware of someone staring, talking behind her back; she spun round to be confronted with a rotund smug looking cat.

 Who are you she enquired as his breath into her face he blew,

“Don’t you know” he growled into her face, “I own this so I own you”

Angered at his pomposity our heroine did retaliate, you’ll be glad to hear she replied to him with “no-one owns me, mate”.

He chuckled to himself, said I like her she’s got spunk then slunk away to gorge himself on a great big business lunch.

Now Chris Mouse she retired a while ago, left the business well behind but others carried on working for the feline boss thinking they had peace of mind.

That was until Pip Vert jumped ship and their future plans hit the skids as he sailed away on his supermodel laden yacht and sold British Ham-Stores for a quid.

Now they wish they hadn’t trusted the fat cat with the big palatial house and wish they had listened to a small outspoken mouse.

 

 

 

 

EUROMIZMOG

Eurovision, it’s the ultimate in metaphorical marmite, you either love it, hate it or think you’re much smarter than everyone else just because you don’t watch it.

It’s no surprise then that the know it all’s were out in force on social media come May  14^th, with their smart Alec cries of “ maybe I’ve been living on Mars or something but I’m pretty sure last time I looked Australia weren’t part of the European union so how can they be taking part in the competition “

So to set the minds at rest of those who claim not to care but obviously do care quite greatly, our friends down under were invited to take part as guest participants in 2015 to celebrate the 60^th anniversary of the world’s favourite song contest.

 It has been broadcast over there every year since 1983 and has gained a huge cult following.

It was originally meant to be a one off thing however they were offered the chance to take part again in 2016 if this time instead of a guaranteed spot in the final they were willing to compete in the semi finals to secure their place just like everybody else did.

This big hoo-ha over their involvement does make me laugh though when you consider the fact that we, the United Kingdom, have been willing on more than one occasion to let one of our Aussie friends take the lead vocal reins on our entry over the past 60 years of the competition.

In 1974 , Miss Sandy Olson herself , Olivia Newton John trilled Long live love and landed a 4^th place on the scoreboard for the U.K that we could only dream about achieving today .

And who can forget Oohing and aahing just a little bit along with the statuesque antipodean beauty that was Gina G back in the summer of 96.

 Plenty of other countries have enlisted the talent of vocalists that might not necessarily come from their own shores to lend their tracks a helping hand, Celine Dion for example first came to our attention if you remember as the French Canadian singer of 1988’s winning Swiss entry so maybe it’s time to stop taking it all quite so seriously and just enjoy it as the glorious bit of human eccentricity we take much delight in either adoring or berating year in, year out.

After all if it wasn’t for the dulcet tones of a certain lady vocalist from the United States letting her love shine a light in every corner of the world back in 1997, step forward Miss Katrina Leskanich and your assorted group of waves, then our run of not getting anywhere might have been a lot longer than almost 20 years.

Full of " it "

You see the thing about teenagers is that they’re full of it, aren’t they?

We should know we all used to be one once and let’s face it when we look back on ourselves and the way we acted at that age even we cringe about some of the things we got up to, said and did.

It doesn’t take long across the everyday grapevine, let alone any social network, for something said in jest and japery to be passed along like Chinese whispers and turned into something that sounds much worse than it actually is, so it’s probably a little understandable that the head of Chatham grammar for girls reacted in the way she did to rumours of year 11 pupils coming in on their last day dressed as militants and letting off fireworks.

However had she and the staff taken a moment to remember what it was like to be a teenager, i think they might have realised what they were hearing was quite highly likely to be wildly exaggerated.

APOLOGIES

My updating of the blog has got a bit behind recently so some of my column pieces aren't in the same order they were published in
Nina x

SOME MOTHERS DO HAVE CHILDREN WHO LOOK REMARKABLY GOOD FOR THEIR AGE

Black beret in place and trench coat tightly belted, it was as if he hadn’t been away when Frank Spencer made his long awaited reappearance as part of Sport Relief.

Yes, he and his beautiful wife Bettie may be slightly more crinkly around the edges but the perfect juxtaposition of her” patience of a saint “in the face of his hapless ineptitude is a brilliant reminder to us all that being a little more tolerant of somebody’s shortcomings can do wonders for your relationship.

However that said I feel someone should have a word with the pair about their childcare skills during their time off our screens as baby Jessica who made her debut at the end of the second series on 27 December 1973 and should therefore be a woman in her early forties appears to be at least a decade younger.

Which leads me to question, does she just use a really good moisturiser or is this one of Frank’s blunders he’s never owned up to?

LOVELY JUBBLIES BY THE NAKED BREAST

“ Welcome to what I call my way of feeding , feeding’s got to be a laugh , it’s got to be simple, it’s got to be fun , it’s basically got to be about stripping the recipe down to the bare essentials ....only the top half though, this is a family show “

*Opening credits roll up to reveal pukka title sequence *

The Naked Breast

Ok , ladies what I have here for you is a recipe that’s been around since the dawn of time and you know what , it’s so simple and easy that should you choose to defer from it everyone including  celebrity chefs are allowed to make you feel bad forever after for not doing it the right way.

It’s packed full of health benefits so please do feel guilty about not doing what’s best for your child even if it’s unavoidable due to illness or other reasons when everyone informs  you about the essential vitamins and nutrients you’re depriving baby of that make them less susceptible to colds, chest infections and allergies.

Please do weep buckets full of tears at your failure to get baby to latch on because after all as your partner yawns and moans crossly “how hard can it be ? “

And should you choose to express your milk with a pump please remember all that pain and distress is totally worth it for that tiny amount you manage to squeeze out that barely covers the bottom of the beaker provided.

Top tip - A simple garnish of cabbage leaves works wonders if swelling and infection become too much to bear.

Finally, it is essential that you should feel compelled to have to sacrifice your own mental health and happiness, after all when you signed up for this baby malarkey you knew the rules stated that you were expected become a milking machine 24 hours a day 7 days a week lest you want your child to grow up and be at risk of long term illness, stunted growth and obesity.

Bish, bash , bosh and that’s it we’re sorted .

Or alternatively there is another “bold, brave “move you could make that works just as well for mother and baby.

You can do what works best for you , what fit’s best around your life and what makes not only baby happy but mum as well despite what everyone else wants to dictate to you .

I breastfed with difficulty for the first month of my twins life before deciding to switch full time to formula when I realised that with two mouths to feed and barely producing enough of my own to fill a tablespoon that if I wanted to feel satisfied i was giving them enough nourishment maybe it was time I started being not so hard on myself for not being able to give it to them personally and concentrated more on enjoying watching them thrive with a little bit of help from elsewhere.

They’ve grown up to be big, strong and healthy with rarely a day taken off school due to ill health.

Towering over 5ft me and catching up quickly with their 6ft 1 father they aren’t exactly stunted height wise and while they like their food they are in no way giving Billy Bunter a run for his money so I don’t fret quite so much that maybe I didn’t give them the best start in life by switching over to bottle feeding these days.

So ladies , I applaud you however you decide to do your feeding because while there are certainly reasons for why breast is supposed to be best , I think maybe letting every mother choose what works well for her without judging them is an even better idea , don’t you ?

Lovely Jubbly

 

And the producer said to me .....

There is an old Page family saying, it dates back to the early days of my childhood and has ultimately stood the test of time since it was first spoken way back in the early 80s.

It is uttered predominantly around the yuletide period when this particular activity tends to reach its maximum peak but can also be rolled out at other times of the year whenever we think it seems fitting to the occasion.

There are two main groups to which this statement ultimately applies, one of which involves a tall man wearing glasses with a brown paper bag folded neatly in his pocket and his friend with short fat hairy legs and alleged wig of which you can’t see the join.

And then of course there are the other two who know their place and are most distinguishable by their eyewear, matching first names and very differing size.

“You have to watch The Two Ronnies / Morecambe and Wise; it’s the law “so goes the famous family motto when presented with an episode of either of the two comedy duo’s shows upon the TV, it may be met with moans and groans from other members of the group but after years of training they come round to our way of thinking eventually.

So it’s from one diminutive personality to another that I pay tribute to a fellow 5 footer of mine this week.

Without him, rudeness of any kind would not be addressed by the phrase “Language, Timothy “, adjusting your glasses be proceeded by “and the producer said to me “and chats between myself and my mum wouldn’t regularly degenerate comically into the second guessing what the other is going to say conversations of Barker and Corbett as Charlie and Bert.

They say good things come in small packages, insert whatever innuendo you like here if you so wish but as you do light “fork handles “and let’s celebrate the life someone who not only still makes me laugh but has my 13 year old kids trawling youtube for sketches that are now about 40 years old because they think they’re hilarious.

So it’s a goodnight from us to him.

Ronnie Corbett, the little man who brought us big laughs.

 

 

Are you sure we're in the right seats , Mavis ?

The Central theatre, Chatham, now there is a place that has featured regularly in my life.

Performed up on stage in my preteens as part of my ballet school’s big show, visited it every year of my secondary school life for speech day, the award giving night where the students who had passed exams would go up on stage to collect their certificates whilst their parents sat in the audience all aglow.

Watched proudly as my own boys sang their hearts out in a choir at a school music festival and a pair of vintage swimming trunks I’d donated got wolf whistled while being modelled in a charity fashion show.

And finally pondered this weekend whether the two old girls who sat never cracking a smile apart from when presented with ice cream had maybe mistakenly thought they were seeing Russell Grant or Russ Conway when they booked the tickets for what was in fact a brilliant and very funny but not for the faint hearted Russell Kane stand up comedy show.

 

Spear an avocado on my lower portions .....(absolutely nothing to do with the column , just a line that makes me laugh :)

Comedy and music.

The eagle eyed amongst you can’t fail to have noticed that if there are two things that greatly influence my writing the most, then this pair just happens to be it.

They’re both perfect means of escape from the world when everything is getting a bit on top of you and guaranteed to pick you back up.

 Indeed the action provoked by one of them, laughter, is deemed at times to be “the best medicine “and as good reviews go you can’t get much better than that.

So at risk of Girl from the neck down starting to sound like the obituary column as 2016 rolls on wreaking havoc on our treasured celebrities list, I’d like to pay tribute to a lady without whose influence in both those areas, my writing would be a much more sober, serious affair and probably not quite as much fun.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you please be upstanding for the brilliant and multi talented, Miss Victoria Wood.

A down to earth lass with an excellent eye for observational comedy she tickled our funny bones by finding humour in people and situations that go on around us in everyday life.

She inspired many a bookish, funny, clever girl to realise that they could be a woman in comedy and that that particular accolade didn’t have to equate with being either a nagging old harridan or the token sexy dolly bird being chased about by the likes of Benny Hill and not only that they could also be the writer of the show as well as performing in it.

In fact without a little influence from Victoria and her unique take on things, I could guarantee some of my more, let’s just say “interesting” concepts for what has appeared here on these pages may never have even gotten past the “I could do this but maybe it’s a little too mad and out there to appeal to the general public “stage from the idea’s scribbled in my notebook.

So let’s raise a toast to the woman who taught us that being witty is just as amazing as being pretty and that should you ever doubt yourself in anything you do just look to the words of the heroine of the ballad of Barry and Freda and embrace the oddness that is your most appealing trait with an almighty shout of

“Let’s do it “.

She ain't heavy ...well not as much as she was anyway

Be happy with yourself just as you are.

The sort of statement you’ll often hear me shouting from the rooftops, so I can understand that maybe some might question my own devotion to that declaration when confronted with my weight loss journey.

So as I reached my 1 and a half stone loss this week I felt I should reassure you that it’s still a motto I believe in its just that certain things have benefited greatly from letting some of the extra weight I was carrying go .

Gone is the heel pain that I had to wear a support arch insole to resolve, the ache in my back where certain items of underwear were holding up a heavy load, walking up steep inclines doesn’t feel like it requires the help of the emergency services and I have plenty of stamina to play Just Dance with the kids now instead of feeling like I’ve got those “moves like Jabba”

I have always been happy with myself just as I am; it’s just that my body is now also happy with itself just as it is.