Tuppenny Tales

She'll Be Coming Down the Mountain...

2011-04-21T15:55:00.000+01:00

Skiing was an interesting experience and I definitely displayed my full emotional range: fear, frustration, anger, tears, hysteria, satisfaction, elation, jubilation and exhaustion.

When we arrived in Les Menuires we discovered that the snow conditions were the worst they’d had in years. There hadn’t been any significant snowfall since January so all the runs in the area were all ice in the morning and slush in the afternoon, just the worst conditions to learn in as everyone kept reassuring me.

I was very pleased to find that there were two other complete beginners in the chalet (Sophie and Taj, two doctors from London) so we decided to stick together in ski school. Our ski instructor Xavier was fantastic – friendly, patient and really good at building our confidence.

After two days of falling over in the safety of the ski school ‘compound’ we were then taken out on the piste. Unfortunately the run that we had to take every morning to get to the lifts was horrendous – ridiculously busy, horribly steep and extremely icy. I cried pretty much the whole way down it, despite the best efforts of the lovely Xavier to fill me with confidence.

Then on Wednesday afternoon all the snow arrived at once with whiteout conditions which were awful. John tried to take me on a supposedly easy green run which turned out to be anything but – it was steep, fast and scary and the fact that the snow was falling heavily made the visibility practically non-existent. I was tired, scared and frustrated and was convinced I just couldn’t do it. I crashed and fell again and again and got more and more upset until I ended up having a full on panic attack – how John managed to stay so patient with me I really don’t know, the man must be a saint! Somehow we managed to get down the mountain in one piece (more or less, despite some spectacular falls on my part) and without John being driven to murder.

Thursday was another day of appalling visibility and heavy snow. By this point I'd really had enough, I spat my dummy and walked off the mountain during ski school because I was tired and terrified and couldn't see 10m ahead of me. I spent Thursday afternoon feeling very miserable and sorry for myself, convinced that I was a useless lump.

Everything changed on Friday morning though when we awoke to find that at last we had the conditions that everyone had kept telling me were what made it all worthwhile - fresh snow, sunshine and blue skies. Everything finally came together and I 'got it' and I enjoyed my last day very much indeed - proper skiing down blue runs without falling over! I could finally understand why people enjoy sticking their feet in those horrible boots, strapping planks to their feet and throwing themselves down a mountain!

Staying in a chalet proved to be a good move. There were 16 of us, a real mix of people and ages ranging from 26 - 63 but we just got on brilliantly and it really made the holiday. Having Sophie and Taj to go skiing with was really great and we managed to have a lot of fun falling over together.

Everyone in the chalet fell in love with John and kept telling me how lucky I was, how he was the kindest and most patient man as well as being clever and fun, and how I mustn't let him go as he's a real keeper! Yep, I know this already folks!

All in all I found the holiday to be much more of a challenge than I’d ever expected. As someone with no sporting prowess and a genuine fear of heights, skiing really pushed me so hard and so far that I feel proud of myself for keeping on going and not giving up completely. I guess sometimes it's good for us to do something that really pushes us way out of the old comfort zone. I’ll definitely be going skiing next year and I'm going to try to get to Chill Factore every couple of months so that I can keep practicing - use it, don't lose it!

Q: What Goes ‘Aaaarrrggghhh, Bump, Bump, Bump,Ouch’?

2011-02-28T15:21:00.000Z

A: Tuppence on a ski slope.

Learning to ski has never been a burning ambition on my list of stuff to do before I’m past it. To me, skiing always looked like an elite, expensive and dangerous sport for people with more money than sense.

I have to admit that some of the ski holiday trimmings did look quite appealing – après-ski, cosy chalets, snow and sunshine, vin chaud, hot chocolate – but the thought of strapping two planks to my feet and hurtling down a mountain at speed wasn’t exactly something that floated my boat. I figured that for me, someone with a fear of heights and an even greater fear of falling from them and who is not blessed with athletic prowess and co-ordination, the skiing experience would involve ending up cold, wet and with broken bones.

I had managed to get to the grand age of 37 without any notion of going on a skiing holiday entering my mind. However all that was about to change.

John loves skiing. He first floated the idea of a skiing holiday when we were in France last October. My response was less than hugely enthusiastic. In my head, spending a week torturing myself trying to do something I was certain I’d be useless at was not my idea of a holiday. However I gradually warmed to the idea a little when I saw how keen he was on introducing me to something he really enjoys and wants to share with me. I agreed that I’d give it a go with John assuring me that I’d have a great holiday even if I decided that I didn’t enjoy skiing.

After lots of deliberation and procrastination it got to the end of January and we finally got around to booking a holiday in the French Alps in March. Now it was time for me to see how I was going to cope with skiing. John suggested that it would be a good idea for me to get a lesson or two before we went away so that at least I’d have an idea of what it all involved.

Manchester is home to the longest indoor snow slope in the UK at Chill Factore so I looked into the different lessons on offer and decided that the best option would be to go for a full day crash course, and hope that the label wouldn’t prove to be horribly prescient.

The Friday before last was my day of reckoning and I set off for my day on the beginner slope with considerable trepidation.

Chill Factore is basically a giant fridge with some shops and eating places attached. The main slope is 180m in length and there is also a beginners slope that is 40m long. I got myself kitted up with skis and boots and discovered my first challenge – walking in ski boots. I moved like Robocop with constipation, shuffling along with my feet encased in heavy plastic lumps wondering what on earth I was letting myself in for.

I was in a group of 8 beginners: myself, a guy in his late thirties, three guys in their twenties and three giggly teenage girls. We were collected from the waiting area by our instructor Ian and we all shuffled nervously out into to ski area.

Over the course of the morning we tackled side-stepping up the slope, learning to snowplough and trying to steer. My attempts to ski brought Chumbawumba’s Tubthumping to mind – I get knocked down, I get up again…and repeat over and over again until eventually my will to stay up overcomes my ability to fall over again. Basically my morning mostly consisted of nerves, fear, tension, crashing and falling over. You know you must be hopeless when 14 year old girls are trying to pick you up of the floor and reassuring you that you're doing really well!

I was so relieved when lunch time arrived and I was able to take my feet out of the ski boots and sit down. My right shoulder and arm were aching from having crashed down on them so many times, the lining of one of the ski boots had rubbed my leg raw and I was feeling hot and bothered. However I was in a much better state than one of our group who was now being driven to hospital by his friend to have a dislocated shoulder put back in – ouch!

After lunch Ian decided we’d progressed enough to move to the other side of the nursery slope which meant I had something else to come to grips with – the travelator. Trying to get onto a conveyor belt wearing skis and leaning forwards was tricky enough, but trying to get off it at the top was even harder. And yes, I managed to fall over on the travelator too. I got one ski on the travelator okay but the other ski skidded on some snow on the conveyor belt, slid off to the side and got stuck in the ice wall leaving me doing the splits and falling over.

By this time the beginners slope was standing room only, with skiers and snowboarders covering every square inch of available space. (Note to self: in future always check school holiday dates before booking skiing lessons!) For someone who was already nervous of crashing into innocent bystanders this was a very bad thing indeed. I stood quaking at the top of the nursery slope with unsteady snowboarders and skiers crashing in to me as I hoped that no-one would hit me hard enough to send me careering down to the bottom.

As I waited nervously at the top of the slope I glanced over towards the viewing terrace near the café. Even at that distance I could make out a very familiar figure: John. Of course knowing that he was watching made me even more nervous, cue one very spectacular fall, crashing backwards, smacking my head and sliding the whole way down the slope on my back at speed with my feet still in the ski bindings. By this point I had concluded that I was definitely not a natural skier.

Even though I was now close to tears with frustration at not being able to get to grips with what everyone else seemed to grasp easily I was determined to keep going. Up the travelator, down the slope, over and over and over. I was terrified of going too fast, of being out of control and unable to stop, of falling over again, of crashing in to one of the many other people on the slope. The instructor told me that I needed to relax, that all the tension in my body was what was making it so difficult for me. Then all of sudden I realised that I’d made it all the way down the slope and back up again three times without falling over. I started to feel a bit better and things started to get a little less difficult.

I made it to the end of the day in one (very bruised!) piece, very aware that I find skiing hard work but pleased that I’d managed to stick at it and feeling more than a little bit excited about going on holiday. Of course, when I could barely move on Saturday as every damn muscle in my body screamed at me I did think that maybe I should just stick to the après-ski…

Anyway, it’s twelve days and counting until we go to France. Ooh, be afraid skiers in the Three Valleys, be very afraid – Tuppence is on her way!

Non-Valentine’s Day

2011-02-16T14:19:00.001Z

I can’t stand Valentine’s Day. I hate the overt gushing sentimentality of it all, the insincerity, the idea that all you need to do is buy some nasty tat or a bunch of flowers and give a naff card and that makes you ‘romantic’. It’s all about consumerism and commerce, yet more companies trying to manipulate and emotionally blackmail us into spending even more money on things that no-one needs or really wants and that mean nothing.

Fortunately John feels exactly the same way about it all. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a complete romantic at heart, he’s actually the most thoughtful, sincere and romantic man I’ve ever met. It’s not about grand gestures and expensive gifts, it’s all the little things that he does and says that show how much I mean to him and make my heart melt.

Anyway, we made a conscious decision to opt out of the whole Valentine’s Day nonsense and decided to have our own special Non-Valentine’s Day instead. We haven’t been able to spend as much time together as we’ve wanted to over the last few weeks because of John’s work schedule, but that has made the time we do have together that much more precious. John was working all weekend so we made Sunday evening our Non-Valentine’s.

John came round with beautiful roses to cheer me up as he knew I’d had a tough week. Then while I relaxed on the sofa he cooked a wonderful meal that we enjoyed with a nice bottle of wine. We talked and laughed and just had a lovely evening, enjoying every moment together. Now that’s romance as far as I’m concerned!

I really love this man and I know that we’re going to grow old together. He says that we’re a funny pair, but that we fit together perfectly and he is absolutely right. He loves me just as I am, with all my insecurities, quirks and foibles. He makes time for my family and friends, and has welcomed me into his. He’s loving, supportive, bright, funny, strong, thoughtful and caring and I am a very lucky so-and-so to have him!

When I’m having a bad day this is a picture that always makes me smile – John and my great-niece Izzy practising hi-fives.

This man is definitely the one to keep! (It's my niece Laura in the pic not me though!)

Green Shoots of Spring

2011-02-12T17:20:00.000Z

After what turned out to be a truly rotten and stressful week for various reasons, this morning the sun was shining and the sky was blue so I took the opportunity to take my camera for a walk.

I decided to head to one of my favourite National Trust places, Dunham Massey, which has beautiful gardens and parkland. It's amazing the effect some fresh air, sunshine and signs of spring can have on your mood. It helped me to put things into perspective and accept that at the moment there are an awful lot of things which are completely beyond my control and I just have to go with the flow.

Anyway, enough of the navel-gazing and feeling sorry for myself. I thought you might like to see some of the lovely early spring flowers I spotted. It's good to see that the season's changing - it's been a long winter.

Time for a Cuppa and a Catch-Up

2011-01-25T13:59:00.000Z

Hello again. Is it too late to say ‘Happy New Year’ do you think? Ah well, I’ve done it now, even if it is more of a case of ‘Happy Slightly-Shopsoiled Year’ instead.

So, it’s been rather a while since I last blogged. Life just has a way of carrying you along with the current and before you know it two months have passed by in a blur. I’ll try to give the potted version of the last few weeks but this may take a while so let's put the kettle on for a nice cup of tea and a catch-up...

Things with John keep going from strength to strength. I feel so ridiculously lucky to have him in my life – I’ve never felt so loved or laughed so much with someone as I do with him. We’ve talked a lot about our future and we are in agreement that we are going to be as big an embarrassment as possible to our children and grandchildren!

We had a good first Christmas together. John drove down with me to pick up my mum who was staying with me. He’s really good with my mum, and very good at stopping me from losing the plot with her.

I spent the best part of a week with Mum and managed not to lose my temper or go crazy, which really was some achievement. I did manage to escape for a couple of afternoons with Jenny which definitely helped both of us – families can be hard work!

On Christmas Eve we took Mum to the afternoon carol service in Liverpool Cathedral which she enjoyed. Then we popped next-door for a few cheeky mugs of mulled wine with Iain and Jenny which went down very nicely.

We had a lovely Christmas Day at my brother’s with 18 of us for lunch (my mum, my brother and sister-in-law, my nieces and nephew, my great-nieces and great-nephews – all in all there were 13 adults and 5 children). It was the first time John had met everyone and it was a day of complete festive chaos, but he held his own wonderfully and my family liked him.

On Boxing Day we set off for Wiltshire to spend a few days with John’s parents. I got to meet some more of his family when his aunt and uncle came round for the day. We went to an eccentric neighbour’s champagne party where we had never-emptying champagne glasses (I like that kind of party!) and encountered all manner of interesting characters (one of whom told me my hair smelled expensive) which made for a very entertaining afternoon.

We also went round to see John’s best friend and his wife and their children – I got on very well with Anna and apparently I got the seal of approval (“She’s lovely, what on earth is she doing with you?!” is what she said to John when I was out of the room.) She did suggest that her daughter would make a wonderful bridesmaid for us – woah, nothing like a bit of pressure there or anything!

Unfortunately I started to feel a bit out of sorts when we were in Wiltshire. I didn’t know what it was but I just didn’t feel very perky. I put it down to being over-tired but a few days later I felt rotten and just kept feeling awful for the next fortnight with a nasty dose of flu. On the bright side though, John looked after me really well which made being poorly a little less horrible.

We also had a plumbing nightmare. John’s boiler decided to pack up on Christmas Eve. With the snow and ice everywhere daytime temperatures were -12C so we drained the central heating system (or so we thought) to stop any burst pipes. Unfortunately we returned from Wiltshire to find that several pipes had indeed burst and we ended up spending four days replumbing the kitchen and bathroom, in a house without heat in sub zero temperatures – not exactly festive fun, but things could have been worse of course!

We had a quiet but lovely New Year’s Eve. We cooked dinner and took it next door and had a lovely evening with Iain and Jenny and plenty of wine and champagne. John got rather tipsy (the first time I’ve seen him like that) but was very cute with it, getting all mushy and saying how I’d made 2010 a wonderful year and that we were going to have big decisions to make in 2011 but that it was going to be another fantastic year together.

The weekend after New Year we went up to Glasgow to see John’s sister, her husband and their little girl Sophie. I was still getting over the flu so I wasn’t at my best, but it was good to get to meet them all. I don’t know what his sister thought of me but I seemed to be a hit with Sophie who was getting me to read to her, telling me she like my earrings and my scarf and my handbag and telling me that I was John’s best friend! I got to see a different side to John as well – he absolutely adores his niece and watching him playing with her and reading to her all weekend was lovely to see. He is going to make a great dad one day.

The last couple of weekends have been a bit of a damp squib with John having to work through them to try and get projects completed. We did get out to the cinema on Friday night (Tron: Legacy, much better than expected) but I ended up suffering from food poisoning on Saturday thanks to the dodgy Chinese restaurant we went to before the film. I broke my cardinal rule, never eat from an all-day-buffet, and paid the price by spending Saturday getting too well acquainted with John’s toilet!

The miserable January weather and dark mornings are pretty grim, but we’ve got something good to look forward to in March – we’re off skiing (or will be when we get it booked)! John is an experienced skier but this will be my first time (hmm, it’s a long time since I’ve been able to call myself a virgin) and I don’t quite know what to expect. I’m going to have a few lessons at the indoor ski slope in Manchester, Chill Factore, and see how I get on. John reckons that I’m going to really enjoy it – I hope he’s right!

What else do I have to report? Well I’ve been recruited as a Governor by another school, so I’m now serving on two governing bodies which is keeping me occupied! The second school is the primary school just round the corner from my house - it’s the school Millie will eventually go to so Iain and Jenny are very pleased that I’m involved!

Work is fairly busy with far too many early starts at the moment – 7am is no time to be in the office! Things are okay, although there is more change on the horizon as we will be merging with our sister company in a few months time. I’m not worrying about it though – what will be, will be and all that.

I’m still going riding every week and continuing to really enjoy it. I’m getting more confident with jumping and find it difficult to believe that it’s only 18 months since I had my first riding lesson!

I think that’s pretty much everything brought up to date. All-in-all life is pretty damn good in Tuppence-ville. How are things with you?

Autumn Antics

2010-11-22T11:33:00.000Z

So, where was I? Ah yes, I was about to fill you in on what happened when we got back from holiday. Well quite a bit really, I guess I’d better start at the beginning.

Things with John passed another milestone the weekend we came back from France. I hadn’t had chance to visit my mum in a few months and I’d been getting a nice dose of manipulation with a side order of emotional blackmail for her for several weeks. John was well aware that Mum was pressuring me to go down and visit, so he suggested that we go together to take some of the pressure of me (and satisfy Mum’s curiosity about him).

I called Mum on the Saturday to let her know I’d be driving down on Sunday for the day. I didn't tell Mum John was coming with me so that he still had the option to change his mind, hence it was a bit of a surprise for my mum when we turned up on the doorstep together. Anyway, we went out for a very nice belated birthday lunch. John made a very favourable impression indeed and he didn't run away screaming so it was all good. Mum certainly approved of him - she's already bought him a tie as one of his Christmas presents. You know you've made it into the good books when my mum adds you to her Christmas present list.

A couple of weeks later we hit a potentially sticky patch when John had an interview for a job down in Gloucester. He had spoken to me before he even applied for the post and confessed that he’d had to think long and hard about whether he wanted to consider the possibility of moving when things with us were going so well. He asked for my support so of course I gave it. When he was invited for interview I started to worry inwardly while being as upbeat, supportive and enthusiastic as possible.

The interview went well and I found myself torn between what I wanted for him and what I wanted for me. I wanted them to offer him the job because I knew he'd enjoy it, he'd be very good at it and it would be good for his career, but the idea of him moving away just made me feel ill (after all I’ve been there, done that with a long distance relationship that ends up going nowhere). I didn’t know what would happen if he got the job, but I did know that I didn’t want him to end up turning it down because of us. I wouldn’t want him to turn round one day and end up resenting me for getting in the way of his career.

I was completely caught off guard when John asked me if I was worried about what could happen if he got the job. He confessed that he was thinking about it a lot and would do whatever it took for things to work for us, he didn’t want to lose me. He also said how much he appreciated how supportive I was and how it meant an awful lot to him. I admitted that I was worried, but that it was more important to me that he was happy and that I didn’t want to hold him back.

In the end John didn’t get the job, and while that was good news for me I felt awful for him. He was really disappointed about it, particularly because they offered the job to one of his team, a graduate trainee that John had trained up and mentored. Ouch, talk about adding insult to injury! (I did point out that the guy would have been younger, cheaper and easier for the company to mould in their image, plus he comes from that area of the country so he can move back home and they save a fortune by not paying relocation expenses.)

Even though he was disappointed, I think that there was a reason why this had worked out this way, that this isn’t the job meant for him and that something fantastic is just round the corner that is right for him. I’m not a fatalist or someone who thinks everything is predestined, but I really do believe that some things are meant to be and some things just aren’t.

We’ve been together for over six months now, and every day things between us grow stronger. I have never had a relationship like this. We know that this is the real deal for both of us - we've talked about marriage, having kids and growing old together and I really can see myself doing that with him. I have never been as happy and content as I am now – this is something that was meant to be.

It's crazy when I think about how awful things were and how unhappy I was two years ago, and how I now have a great life and I'm really happy (except for when the alarm goes off on Monday morning of course!) It's not all sunshine and roses in my life - work is pretty hardgoing at the moment - but there is plenty of good stuff to balance out the not-so-good stuff.

This weekend was our first trip down to visit his parents together as it was his mum's birthday on Saturday. Fortunately my first time staying with my outlaws went very well! I was a good house guest and took presents with me - home made chutney, a bottle of wine and a houseplant - and I think that his mum and dad approve of me. His mum showed me lots of baby photos - oh he was a cutie! - including the obligatory 'naked-in-the-bath' snaps and I found out what his mum's pet name was for him when he was little (which of course I will be using against him!) All in all it was a very good weekend.

Bonne Vacances en France!

2010-10-28T15:55:00.000+01:00

Wow, October has been a busy month! Work has been bedlam for the last few weeks and it doesn't look as if it's going to ease off until Christmas. Ah well, better to be employed and busy than the alternative especially in the current climate. If I think back to when I was made redundant last year I remember how desperate I was for a job so that reminds me to count myself lucky to have one now and to really feel for those who've lost theirs.

Anyway, I have rather a lot to bring you up to date on so I think I'd better start at the beginning of the month and start with my birthday and holiday.

I didn't exactly start my birthday filled with sunshine, roses and happy smiles. We were booked on a 6.50am flight to Toulouse which meant I had to be up at 4.30am to get ready and get to the airport. I was not filled with birthday joy at that time of the morning, believe me!

The flight was uneventful, apart from the woman seated in front of us who was sneezing and spluttering in every direction and determined to share her germs with as many people as possible. Yes you guessed correctly, a few days later I was the lucky winner of her bug - ah the delights of recycled cabin air!

We had a fantastic time in France - the weather was lovely (sunny and around 25C pretty much all week), we enjoyed lots of lovely food and wine, and we saw a fair bit of the Languedoc Rousillion region and clocked up 1000km over the week.

We landed in Toulouse mid-morning on the Friday, picked up our hire car (a Citroen C3 - well it had to be French I guess) and drove the country roads down to Carcassonne, stopping in Mirepoix for the afternoon.

Mirepoix was lovely. It's a beautiful little medieval market town where we spent a very relaxing afternoon, enjoying cassoulet, wandering around the town and cathedral and treating ourselves to some very tasty patisserie goodies (well, it was my birthday after all!)

After a wonderful birthday afternoon in Mirepoix we drove on to the medieval walled city of Carcassone where we spent two nights. (The hotel was very nice and well located just outside the city walls, so if you're looking for somewhere to stay in the area I can certainly recommend it.)

Saturday was spent exploring Carcassonne. If you've read Kate Mosse's novel Labyrinth then this will be a must-see place for you.

Leaving Carcassonne on Sunday we went on a chateaux trail through the mountains and saw the Cathar castles of Puilaurens and Perpeyteuse. These places are just hewn out of the mountains - it's incredible to imagine how they must have been built and what day-to-day life in them must have been like during the persecution of the Cathars.

When we were castled-out and full of Languedoc and Cathar history we headed along the winding mountain roads and on to Perpignan for the night. Next day we drove along the Mediterranean coast to Collioure, a favourite haunt of the Fauvist artists. Collioure was a very picturesque harbour town, with pastel coloured houses and shops lining the streets.

From there we went to Prades, a very pretty market town at the foot of the Pyrennees. We stayed in the most gorgeous former tannery which has been beautifully converted to guest bedrooms and a gite by the owners Marie-Claire and Oliver. Not only did we have a lovely room, as the only guests we were lucky enough to have sole use of the heated outdoor swimming pool and hot tub, as well as the steam room and sauna in the health suite. At 11pm on a warm, starlit evening we were relaxing in the pool and hot-tub, watching bats fly overhead and living the dream!

This was definitely our favourite stop and we could have easily stayed there all week, but it was time to move on so after spending the morning in Prades wandering round the market we set off on our travels again. The journey through the Pyrennees was beautiful but I soon discovered I really don't like twisty mountain roads! It felt like a very long drive indeed through the mountains back to Mirepoix where we spent the night in the 14th century Maison des Consuls.

By this time my lurgy had kicked in with a vengeance and I was feeling pretty grotty but I was determined not to let it spoil our holiday so I kept going.

We spent the last two nights of our holiday in Toulouse. On Wednesday we went on a visit to the Airbus factory to see the A380 assembly line (that was a special little visit for my engine geek boyfriend, I just knew he'd like to go look at stuff being made) and then headed out to the town of Albi, home to Toulouse Lautrec.

Our last day was spent just wandering around Toulouse in the glorious sunshine, a good end to a fantastic week.

Our first holiday together turned out to be memorable for all the right reasons. The week showed how good we really are together, we just fit like jigsaw pieces. Over the course of that week we grew even closer to each other and realised how lucky we are to have each other.

We saw such a lot of both the Languedoc and Rousillion during the week, but there is still so much in the area that we want to see that I know we'll be returning again and again.

So what has happened since we got home from holiday? Hmm, quite a bit, but I think I'll tell you about that another day.

Vote for Rapunzel!

2010-10-11T15:28:00.000+01:00

Bonjour mes amis! I had a lovely birthday and a fantastic holiday in France, but that's a tale for another day.

Today I'm here to campaign on behalf of a fellow blogger and friend of mine, the lovely Rapunzel over at Tales from the Tower who I'm very pleased to say has been shortlisted for the Manchester Blog Awards.

The Manchester Blog Awards were established in 2006, with Manchester leading the way as the first city in the UK to have its own blog awards. The awards recognise the cream of online writing talent in the Manchester area and the lovely Rapunzel has been shortlisted for the award of Best Personal Blog.

To cast your vote just visit the website (www.manchesterblogawards.com) and vote for Tales from the Tower in the Best Personal Blog section.

Voting closes next week and every vote counts, so what are you waiting for?

Meet the Parents: The Verdict

2010-09-17T13:22:00.000+01:00

Well the verdict is in and the good news is that I’ve passed the out-laws test and have got the seal of approval from John’s parents.

We had a great day on Saturday and I’m pleased to report that his mum and dad are completely lovely people. Phew!

I know I was being daft in being nervous, but I just couldn’t help myself. I had a girls night out with Jenny on Friday and she gave me an excellent pep talk so by the time John picked me up on Saturday morning I was in full parent-charming mode.

We had a really lovely day out at Hardwick Hall near Chesterfield. It was certainly a unique experience, my first introduction to my boyfriend’s parents being when they roar up a National Trust driveway on their motorbikes! But fortunately my nerves just instantly evaporated the moment we met and everything was just really easy and relaxed. We wandered around the Hall and gardens, had lunch and just chatted about all sorts of things.

His parents are really easy to be with, very warm and friendly and funny, so there were no awkward silences or uncomfortable moments. It was certainly interesting to witness John with them. I could definitely see a lot of shared personality traits and physical characteristics, and the way that they all relate to one another is good to see – they’re a loving close-knit family (but not too close!), the kind of people that it feels good to be around.

I thought that things went really well, but of course you never really know what people think. But John spoke to both his mum and his sister this week, and the reports back were favourable. Apparently his mum told his sister that she really liked me, particularly because I tease him and take the mickey out of him (I’m not some sappy girl just fawning all over him) and that I come across as sparky and independent.

I met people who are important to John on Saturday and then he ended up meeting people who are important to me. When we got back home, I bumped into Jen and she invited us in for a drink (too good an opportunity for her to miss!) so John ended up meeting Jen, Iain and baby Millie.

John got full marks from Iain and Jen (Millie had no comment other than blowing raspberries). They really liked him and said he was very chatty and friendly and that I'd got myself a good 'un. Plans are now afoot for us to all get together for dinner at my place one weekend (with plenty of wine and beer of course).

So all in all a very successful weekend. Now I just have to introduce him to my mum and the rest of my family. Hmm, now that could be interesting…

But before all that I have something far more fun to look forward too. Two weeks today and I will be on holiday in France! We're going away on my birthday and flying out to Toulouse on 1 October for a week's holiday in the Languedoc region. We've hired a car and we're going to see as much as we can, including Carcassonne and Montpelier and hopefully getting up into the Pyrennes and down to the coast. I am very, very excited about it all and can't wait!

It’s certainly going to be much more fun than the last time I was on holiday for my birthday two years ago – it was me, several bottles of wine, the DVD of Bridget Jones’s Diary and lots of tears and feeling sorry for myself because my life was a mess. Pathetic, eh? Who was that miserable woman? Thank god she’s not around any more!

Anyway, the weekend is almost here, the sun is shining and I’m a happy bunny. Whatever you’re up to this weekend I hope you have a good one!

PS I've just realised that this is my 100th post. Wow, can't believe we've all made it so far! So much has happened and changed since I started this blog last November - I wonder where we'll all be in another 100 posts?

Meeting the Parents

2010-09-08T14:10:00.000+01:00

I’m pleased to report that life with John is still going swimmingly. We just seem to fit together really well – it’s already got to the stage where each knows what the other is thinking, and usually we find we’re thinking the same thing! We just seem to be nicely in harmony.

In fact things are going so well between us that this weekend we’re facing a milestone moment – I’m meeting his parents! Eeeekkkk!

Now I know that for some people that isn’t anything significant, that they introduce almost every girlfriend or boyfriend to their parents. In this instance though I know that isn’t the case as John hasn't really introduced any of his girlfriends to them before. For him to be so keen for me to meet them is kind of a big deal. In fact he's already asked me if I would like to spend Christmas with him and his family in Wiltshire, and as far as I’m concerned that is definitely a big deal!

I know that his sister has been checking out my photos on Facebook, and that his mum has been asking lots of questions and dropping heavy hints that she wants to meet me. Then a couple of weeks ago she came right out and suggested that we all meet up for the day so that they can get to know me. John asked me if that was okay with me, I gulped and said “um, yes I think so” and before I had time to change my mind the date was set.

So this Saturday I will be meeting his mum and dad at a National Trust place in Derbyshire. His parents are away on holiday on their motorbikes in Northumberland so we’re going to meet up with them on their journey home. (Everyone in his family is into motorbikes in a big way - John has one, his mum has a couple but his dad has a collection of 14!)

I know that John’s parents will be lovely (after all they did such a good job raising him!) but I have to confess that I am feeling rather nervous about meeting them. I really want to make a good impression and I want them to like me. John’s attitude is that of course they’ll like me because I make him happy. He jokes that his mum is so delighted that someone has finally taken him on that she’s guaranteed to approve of me, and that he’s just having to dissuade her from buying a hat already!

I’m just going to be me (a well-behaved version of me of course!), try not to get too nervous about it all and just stay relaxed. I’m glad that we’re meeting on ‘neutral ground’ anyway – I think I’d be even more of a bag of nerves if the first time I met them was at their home. Anyway, fingers crossed it will all go well and I won't make a noodle of myself! I'll let you know what happens...

Questions and Answers

2010-09-02T09:21:00.000+01:00

In a bid to counteract the lack of blog posts of late, the lovely Life Begins at 30ty started a round of Blogging Secret Santa to try and give us all a kick start. The full list of who's playing can be found here. My questions came courtesy of To Be That Guy and you can read his response to one of my questions to him here.

Anyhow, without further ado, here are my answers to all three questions I was asked.

If you had to live in an African country for three years, which country would it be, and what would you anticipate would be the best part?

It would have to be Egypt. I spent a week in Dahab on the Red Sea coast over New Year and it was an amazing experience that made me want to return. I tried so many new things – I learned to windsurf, went snorkelling over the coral reef, rode a camel in the mountains – and discovered a whole new side to myself that I never knew existed (my laid-back inner beach chick!) and I would love to go back there.

I have always wanted to qualify as a diver and the warm crystal clear waters of the Red Sea would be the perfect place to get my Open Water Diver qualification. I’d also like to visit Cairo, Luxor and Alexandria; to see the Pyramids of Giza and the inscrutable Sphinx; to sail down the Nile at sunset; to see the Tombs of the Pharoahs.

The best part? Hmm, I absolutely loved the snorkelling and windsurfing so I think that for me the best thing would be the chance to enjoy the Red Sea and to dive the beautiful coral reef at the Blue Hole.

You have been elected Prime Minister of the UK as a single woman. Whom do you date, and how do you keep your dating life secret?

Well there is an easy answer for this one - I just wouldn’t date! The general public likes its politicians to be married already - there seems to be a general perception that politicians who are resolutely single are less electable for some reason. If I had managed to make it to the top as a single woman that would be a real triumph against the odds in itself.

Can you imagine what the media pressure would be like on a single woman in such a position of power? The constant speculation, gossip and dissection of what I said, where I went, what I wore, who I spoke to, how I looked would be immense. I would be under constant scrutiny, with my political enemies looking for any opportunity to gain an advantage over me, to find a vulnerability that they can exploit.

The British press is well known for its love of scandal – it’s the stuff that sells papers. The tabloids are obsessed with who’s doing what with whom in general, and they rub their hands with glee when they can break a story featuring politicians and sex. Then of course there are all the websites and forums devoted to stirring up gossip and innuendo. Just look at the current situation with the Foreign Secretary, William Hague and his adviser Christopher Myers for a perfect example of the gossip machine at work in the media.

If I had made it to the top of the political tree I would have to have been completely ruthless and single-minded in my pursuit of that position, sacrificing everything else in the process. After all, try and think of a prominent British female politician in a position of power and significance at the moment. Hmm, bet you can’t can you? There is definitely still a glass ceiling for women in British politics and for me to have broken through that and reached the top I very much doubt that I would be able to put myself in a position where it could all come crashing down because of a kiss-and-tell story.

How could I ever meet anyone anyway? None of the usual options would be open to me – online dating and speed dating would be off the menu, I wouldn’t have time for a real social life where I could meet new people while pursuing my hobbies, and it’s hardly as if I could start a relationship with anyone at work! Plus I’d have to be so careful researching a man’s background in such detail to avoid any nasty skeletons in his past jumping out at me, and to make sure he wasn’t a kiss-and-tell-merchant trying to set me up.

No, I think the only solution for me would be to give dating a wide berth!

You fall in love with a man - completely, utterly, head-over-heels crazy in love - and he has diametrically opposite political views. How do you handle it?

Well I can say with all certainty that this would never happen. For me to fall in love with someone they have to be a man I respect and whose values and beliefs I share. If someone has diametrically opposed political views then it's very likely that we will be at opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to our views on life and the things that are important to us.

That’s not to say I look for someone who’ll just agree with me or be the same as me, it’s more that our fundamental beliefs and things that we value in life are in harmony. I couldn’t be involved with someone whose outlook on the world and how we should live in it was completely at odds to mine – there just wouldn’t be a future in the relationship. After all if your fundamental world view is so completely different, how on earth can we find any common ground to build a shared future together?

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Okay, assignment completed. Next one please! In fact if anyone has any questions they'd like me to answer then just let me know. (Nothing concerning particle physics or quantum mechanics though please, they are certainly not subjects about which I have any knowledge!)

Mother Trouble

2010-08-26T16:10:00.001+01:00

You may, or may not have noticed, but like a lot of fellow bloggers I haven’t been posting much lately. I guess there are a fair few reasons why.

Things are still going great with John, but I don’t want to end up writing one of those vomit-inducing blogs that is all about how wonderful my love life is. Ewww, the thought of just writing post after post after post going on about how great he is, how happy we are, how life is all roses and rainbows makes me feel ill! I think my blog would need to be equipped with a health warning – the following may induce feelings of extreme nausea, irritation and boredom. Nope, I don’t want to turn into one of those smug self-satisfied women who delight in making you aware in extreme detail just how fantastic everything is. (Please, please don’t tell me it’s too late and I’ve already done it!)

The other reason I haven’t been writing is because I just haven’t felt like it. I haven’t felt as if I’ve had anything to say that anyone else would find worth reading. Last weekend has given me something to say though so please forgive me while I have a bit of a rant and get something of my (rather large) chest!
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My relationship with my mum has always been bumpy but over the last few weeks things really haven’t been great. I do love my mum, but sometimes I feel that I don’t like her that much.

I’ve always had to be the dutiful daughter, even more so since my dad died. As I’ve mentioned before there is a big age gap between me and my brother so as I’ve grown older all the responsibility for our mother has fallen on me because after all “your brother is a busy man with his own family and responsibilities”. It’s not my brother’s fault that things are like this, I guess that I just am more susceptible to Mum’s emotional blackmail and where he will call her out on it I will just do what she wants rather than end up feeling guilty of neglecting her.

From the time I left home aged nineteen I’ve always made sure that I go back to visit Mum every six weeks or so. I’ve spent every single Christmas with her, always visited for Mothering Sunday and her birthday. This year though for the first time I’ve found that I’ve not had the time to visit her as much as she wants, mainly because I’ve spent a lot of time building a life of my own that I have been enjoying. This has not gone down well at all.

My mum is very displeased that I am doing my own thing and not keeping her completely informed of every little detail. She has taken to phoning my brother every Sunday to see if I’ve gone round to see him, and complaining that she “doesn’t know what’s going on in that girl’s life”. My brother to his credit has done a good job of trying to get her off my case, by pointing out that I am a grown woman of 36 and not a 16 year old teenage girl and I can look after myself perfectly well without needing to inform her of everything I’m doing.

I know I shouldn’t let it, but this is really winding me up! We’ve never had that kind of relationship, you know the whole my-mum-is-my-best-friend thing, and as far as I’m concerned information about my life has always been on a need-to-know basis.

My mum is never happier than when she has something to be thoroughly miserable and worry about. She seems to delight in telling me how she didn’t sleep a wink because she was worrying about something I’d told her or something I’m doing. So for this reason I didn’t tell her I’d been made redundant until five months later when I was about to start my new job. Nor did I tell her that I’d split up with David until six months after the fact (and then her response was along the lines of ‘oh no, who on earth would want you now?’). As for telling her of my dating experiences over the last year, are you kidding me?!

She digs and digs for information about me, mithering my brother, my sister-in-law and my cousin Shelagh to tell her what they know (which of course they don’t do) and if she does find out by accident that they were privy to something she didn’t know she then gets in a total huff about it.

I’m caught in a no-win situation – if I tell her anything then she’ll lie awake worrying about it (and of course make sure that I know that I’ve caused her sleepless nights!) and if I don’t tell her then she complains that she’s left out of things!

Anyway, last weekend was a prime example of my mum’s manipulations to get her own way. I’d booked a few days off work and I was heading off to Wales to go riding and spend some time with Shelagh who was on holiday there. Just before I was about to leave I picked up a voicemail from my mum

"Can you come on Friday? I’ve got the decorator next week and I need you to move everything out of my bedroom."

What???!!! Nothing like plenty of advance notice! So I called her back told her that I already had plans for the weekend and would be in Wales, and of course she played her guilt trip card of

"Oh no, don't come, don’t you worry about me. You go and enjoy yourself, I’ll have to manage on my own somehow. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it, but never mind."

Ah yes, the classic emotional blackmail move. Of course I fell hook, line and sinker and agreed to change my plans, so I had a very unpleasant journey from Wales to the Midlands on Friday afternoon. The weather was lousy, the traffic was awful and it took me over six hours to travel 200 miles. I could think of a lot of other things I’d rather be doing.

When I finally arrived at Mum’s I realised the size of the task ahead. Since my dad died my mum has become a bit of a squirrel, hoarding away all sorts of things but mainly art and craft materials. There are boxes and boxes and boxes of threads, fabrics, yarn, patterns, embroidery magazines and books, all stacked floor-to-ceiling in both bedrooms. Then there are all the boxes in the loft space and those in the garden shed. In short there is just clutter everywhere and it is overwhelming.

I realised that I needed to spend more time there to sort things out for her, but then I thought that I could spend weeks there and it wouldn’t really change anything. After all who am I to say to my mum that she needs to get rid of the things that are precious to her, her treasures and belongings? So instead I sorted out what little I could, moved things around for her, and cleaned up the place as much as possible.

Dutiful daughter behaviour completed, as I drove back home on Saturday afternoon I thought about the situation. Mum is 77 now and not in the best of health at all – I worry that it may not be as long as we’d like before we have to start making some difficult decisions about what happens next.

I’m torn between feeling pissed off at Mum for her attempts to manipulate me and meddle, and feelings of guilt for thinking that way. After all she is the only mother I’ll ever have and I should make the most of that instead of letting her get to me.

Then again she knows exactly how to push all my buttons and wind me up. As an example consider the following conversation from this weekend…

"Did you see the picture of your granny in the bedroom? I think you look an awful lot like her. Although of course she was as skinny as a rake, not like you…"

Cheers Mum, with you on my side, who needs enemies?! Aarrrrgggh!

Okay, rant over and I feel much better thank you very much! Feel free to tell me to shut up and stop being such an ungrateful whingebag of a daughter of course...

Awful August?

2010-08-17T15:34:00.000+01:00

I do not enjoy August as a general rule. This is always a dull month at work – the building is as deserted as the Marie Celeste and the usual buzz of activity is completely missing. I’ve got plenty of work to be doing, but it’s all tedious and unappealing, there’s nothing to really get my teeth into and feel like I’m achieving something. The weather has been lousy for weeks - grey, miserable and wet - which just adds to the problem. A state of lethargy descends on Monday morning and then hangs round my shoulders like a bad smell until Friday evening.

Speaking of bad smells, last week my office was plagued by a very unpleasant smell – a sweet smell of decay, like mouldy oranges. I checked every waste bin, behind every cabinet and cupboard, in every drawer and box, but I just couldn’t find the source of the stench. I even had the building maintenance guys in to check behind the ceiling tiles in case something had crept in and died, but they found nothing. I was being haunted by a smell and it was driving me crazy!

Anyway, I digress. Time is dragging its heels every work day and I find myself staring at the clock in my office, willing the hands to move with the power of my desire to be somewhere else.

To add to the tedium Adam was off sick for a week-and-a-half so I was all by myself in my stinky office, desperate for someone to talk to. It did get to the stage where it wasn’t going to be long before I started having conversations with the filing cabinet (my PC just has too much of an attitude – it always thinks it’s in the right so I don’t like to converse with it).

One upside to this month though is the ease of my commute to and from work every day. It’s amazing how much of an impact the school run has on the traffic flow. At the moment my 20 mile journey to work is taking me around 30 minutes – when the kids are back at school it takes me over an hour.

Ah well, in just over two week’s time things will pick up again and it will be mad busy around here once more. Until then I’m going to keep on living for the weekend!

Speaking of weekends, they are very enjoyable at the moment. Things with John are going swimmingly and we’re very happy. We just seem to ‘fit’ together really well. We’re relaxed and completely comfortable together and everything is easy – there’s no pressure or tension, just the two of us grinning like idiots and wondering how we got to be so lucky.

One of the lovely things about this weekend was that John thanked me for being understanding and supportive about his work over the last few months. He’s been having a tough time and having to work ridiculous hours under lots of pressure. John hears his colleagues at work complaining about their relationships and getting grief from their partners about the hours they work, while he gets cheeky, saucy or funny texts from me that make him smile and look forward to seeing me. He says that having me to talk to and being able to let off some steam about things has just made a huge difference, that having me to share things with is wonderful. He says that I make him happy.

It goes both ways though. The last couple of months at work have been stressful for me too and he has been there for me when I’ve needed him, always able to make me laugh and put a smile back on my face and put the problems back into perspective.

Work may be a bit dull and the weekdays may drag at the moment, but on reflection I don’t think August is so awful after all. After all, this August I have everything I’ve ever asked for – wonderful friends and family, a nice home, a good job, and someone special who thinks I’m amazing. Yep, I’m a very happy and lucky bunny.

Now then, I wonder if I can harness these warm and fuzzy feelings to help me write this sales proposal? Hmm let's see...

Perspective

2010-08-04T13:58:00.000+01:00

Perspective is an interesting thing. We talk about getting some perspective, about looking at things from a different perspective, about putting things into perspective, about losing perspective on a situation. The dictionary defines it as:

perspective (noun)

the art of representing three-dimensional objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other
the appearance of viewed objects with regard to their relative position , distance from the viewer, etc.:a trick of perspective
a view or prospect
a particular attitude towards or way of regarding something; a point of view:
true understanding of the relative importance of things ; a sense of proportion:

Yesterday I realised how much my perspective had changed in recent months. When I looged into Facebook the first piece of news to be proudly displayed in the news feed was the fact that Rob M**** is single. Hmm…

It’s now almost six months since our short relationship collapsed under the weight of expectation, and four months since we last saw or spoke to one another. Even though it was awful at the time, I’m now almost glad that things ended between us. I think I’ve come out the other side a wiser and better person and it made me really think about who I am and what I want in life. It’s moved me on in life to a much better place and by doing that it’s brought someone wonderful into my life.

Now that time has passed and the pieces on the chessboard of life have been reorganised, I have a very clear sense of perspective, that true understanding of the relative importance of things. I can see now that we weren’t really right for one another, that our priorities in life and our experiences, hopes and dreams are just too different to ever bridge the gap.

I suppose in some ways our relationship was really a trick of perspective, a point in time at which we were both looking for something and thought we’d found it. We managed to fool ourselves into believing that our positions in life were lined up, that we were looking at everything from the same perspective and seeing things the same way. What we didn’t realise is that we were actually travelling in very different directions and that the things we shared just weren’t enough to hold us together.

I don’t regret the whirlwind romance with Rob, it made me realise that I could fall in love again, that I could have passion and excitement in my life, that I could take a leap into the unknown and be daring and impulsive. But it also made me see very clearly that a fairytale romance isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, it has a darker side. Relationships founded primarily on intensity and passion will be less likely to go the distance: they will burn twice as brightly but for half as long. Eventually things built on passion and drama will disintegrate or implode, with the force of a supernova.

If I’m truly honest with myself, in my heart I knew that things with Rob could never last. There was always an underlying sense of unease, of being on shifting sands, of never really knowing what was going on. I let him sweep me off my feet and carry me away into some fairytale, but there was always a part of me anchored in reality saying ‘watch out’.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, 20/20 vision that enables you to see so clearly from here what you couldn’t see from there. In the last six months I’ve learned some valuable lessons: to listen to my inner voice and trust my instincts: not to let myself be swept away by the current; not to compromise on the things that are important to me; to be the best version of myself that I can be and not a second-rate version of someone else; to wholeheartedly embrace life and be happy now instead of waiting for everything to be perfect; not to give up no matter how hard it can be to keep going. Most importantly of all though I've learned that if you're true to yourself and look for the positive in life you'll find it, and it will find you.

Tuppence in Wonderland

2010-07-28T11:41:00.001+01:00

It seems as if there are a few of you who’d like an update on the state of my love life. Well I do like to give people what they want so here you go.

Everything is wonderful.

Okay will that do you? No, you want details?! Hmm, this may take a little longer then…

It’s fair to say that I have had a ‘busier’ love life than the lovely John. Not that there is anything wrong with that from either side, it’s just a fact. I was pondering the other night what my ‘magic number’ is and by my best reckoning it’s 18 and six of those are in the last year. As far as I’m concerned the number is neither here nor there, the thing that interests me is that I realised that out of those 18 guys only five of them really actually meant anything to me. That was a real eye-opener – for almost three-quarters of the guys I’ve been sexually involved with it was just about sex for me (and them as well I presume), love just didn’t factor in the equation at all.

So how is this little fact relevant to things as they are now? Well, I’ve realised that I’m now in the best relationship I’ve ever had with a wonderful man I really love and respect. It’s something with really solid foundations – we built a friendship first and really got to know each other before anything else happened – and I feel completely secure and confident.

We are both in the same place with how we feel and where we want to go. I’ve really never felt this way before, there’s always been an underlying unease and nervousness to any relationship, as if I felt that I couldn’t really rely on it or them and that it could all crumble. I just thought that was part of the deal with relationships, that you always felt that sense of insecurity. With John I’ve learned what a real relationship feels like and it feels amazing.

We can talk about everything with each other – there are no taboo subjects or secrets lurking in the shadows. I’ve told him about my parents’ tumultuous marriage and how that affected me growing up and how it still influences me today. I’ve talked about my dad’s death and the impact that had on me and the difficult relationship I have at times with my mum. I’ve told him how unhappy I was with my life eighteen months ago, about my experience of depression last year and about how I’ve worked to change things. I’ve told him all of those things, and instead of him running away screaming he tells me how much he admires me and the way I tackle life.

He says that he’s never known anyone like me, that he finds me completely intriguing, that I make him laugh a lot and I’m fun to be with. He likes that I’m so passionate about things and we share a lot of values and beliefs, that we can just be silly together and be ourselves. He respects me and says that I’m the most positive person he’s ever known, someone who won’t let things beat her but just picks herself up and keeps on going.

One of the things that intrigues him is what different lives we’ve lead and experiences we’ve had to shape us but that they’ve brought us here and that we share such a similar outlook on life and what’s important to us.

He is the most thoughtful, caring, sincere and affectionate man I’ve ever known. The way he looks at me and treats me makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. He makes me waffles and pancakes for breakfast, cooks me delicious meals, and has even baked me a cake. When we’re out and about if he’s not holding my hand, he’s got his arm round my waist or my shoulders, and whenever he looks at me he smiles.

We talk and laugh all the time, but we’re comfortable with silences too and will happily curl up together and just enjoy being in each other’s presence without needing to say a word. We’re completely relaxed around one another and everything is just easy in a way that neither of us has known before.

He’s a man with real integrity, he’s honest, truthful and passionate about the things he believes in. He treats people with kindness and compassion. I have so much respect for him, and I really admire the way he approaches life.

He wants to take me away on holiday in a few weeks time, to spend some of his overtime and make up for all the weekends he’s had to work lately. He’s talking about a long (and dirty) weekend in the South of France at the beginning of September which will be lovely. He’s already talking about what we could do for my birthday in October.

Oh and in case you were wondering (because I know how some of you think, and because I’d be wondering the same thing too!) the physical side of the relationship is fantastic too! In fact we both seem to have a permanent Cheshire Cat grin on our faces – definitely nothing lacking in that department!

So, to bring me back to where I started, the conclusion is that everything is wonderful! Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go back to my filthy daydreams…

A Few More of My Favourite Things

2010-07-27T19:53:00.000+01:00

Well hello again! I don’t know where the time seems to be going at the moment and one of the things that’s being sacrificed is my blogging and blog reading. I have so many things to tell you about – my night out with Rapunzel, the village food festival, a night out with my girlies down in London the other weekend, what’s going on at work, and of course how things are going with John – but I think I should start with some unfinished business first, part two of my list of things I like.

The Lake District. Now forgive me if I’ve mentioned this before, but this is absolutely without doubt my favourite part of the UK. Over the years I have been to the Lakes many, many times, in all seasons and all weathers, and always the sheer raw, rugged beauty takes my breath away. It’s not just the scenery though, there’s something more to the place than just good looks. The people you meet are strong and stoic and part of tightly-knit communities that tackle tough times head on and keep going. Life there isn’t easy and in recent years the area has faced some real challenges but people don’t feel sorry for themselves, they get on with living, and that’s something I really respect and admire.
Giving gifts to the people who matter to me and seeing the smile on their face. I absolutely love giving presents. I get such a buzz out of choosing the perfect gift to buy for someone or making something for them like chutney or jam or gingerbread men, and then wrapping it up neatly with bright gift wrap and ribbon, and then seeing their reaction, especially when they aren’t expecting it. It doesn’t have to be a gift for a particular occasion either, sometimes I just like giving a little something just because I want to make them feel good.
Eating out. You can’t beat a good meal with great company which doesn’t end with me having to load the dishwasher! I enjoy cooking for friends, but I do love eating out. One of the wonderful things about the village I live in is that for a small place we are remarkably well serviced in terms of good places to eat: a great Turkish, a brilliant Chinese, a fantastic Thai, a lovely café for brunch, lunch or afternoon tea are just four of my favourite places.

I’ve had some truly fantastic and memorable meals over the years, but the ones that have really stayed in my memory are more about who I’ve been with than where I’ve been.
Farm shops and farmers’ markets. I’m a firm believer in supporting local suppliers and farmers, after all it’s always better to really know where your food is coming from. I’m really lucky that there are some fantastic farm shops nearby so when I can I try to make good use of them.
Driving. In the grand scheme of things I was a late convert to the joys of driving. I did the usual teenage thing of having lessons as soon as I was 17 but I lacked the necessary confidence and existed in a state of perpetual terror whenever I was behind the wheel so after two failed tests in quick succession I hung up my L-plates. When I was a student I couldn’t have afforded to run a car, and when I lived in London a car was just not necessary as despite all the grumbling about delays and overcrowding the public transport system in London is pretty damn fantastic.

It wasn’t until I changed my job that I was forced back to driving by my CEO who insisted that driving was now essential. So I started lessons again and after a few months I finally passed my theory and practical tests on the first attempt aged 30.

My world changed overnight! All of a sudden I had complete freedom to go anywhere without being constrained by timetables or relying on other people. I discovered that I really enjoy the freedom that driving and having your own car brings you, and boy did I get a lot of miles under my belt! My boss had me driving all over the country for five years – my first journey for work was a journey down the motorway from London to Eastbourne the day after I passed my test! I was so nervous getting into a car on my own for the first time, but it wasn’t long before I was completely at home behind the wheel.

In the six years since I passed my test I’ve driven over 90,000 miles and I can’t imagine being without my car.
Green and Black’s chocolate. If you haven’t tried Green and Black’s Maya Gold or the Extra Creamy Milk Chocolate, you’re missing out. Mmm, just the thought of it is making my mouth water…Plus Maya Gold was the first UK product to be certified Fairtrade and it's organic so I like to think that I’m actually helping to do something good by stuffing my face with choccie!
Photography. I’ve always been interested in taking pictures, right back to when I was a little girl and had my big brother’s camera passed on down to me. Back in 2006, having recently invested in a digital SLR camera, I enrolled on an evening class in photography at my local FE college. I really enjoyed the course and started looking at the things in a completely different way once I really understood how to get the most out of my camera and what makes an image work. Not only did I gain an new qualification (City & Guilds in Photography) I also found how much fun I could have just by taking my camera for a walk.

I also discovered some great photographers whose work really inspires me: Charlie Waite, Joe Cornish , Don McCullin and Martin Parr.

I don’t get out with my camera as much as I’d like to these days, there just seem to be so many different things fighting for my time, but I’m going to make a real effort to get out there more.
Open farms. I am a complete sucker for a farm attraction. If I can bottle feed a lamb or hold a newly hatched chick or pet a piglet then even better. I think this all comes from my dad who dreamt of a self-sufficient lifestyle for years. He never managed to achieve his dream of a smallholding in the country, but I think he managed to pass it on to me. I don’t know that I’ll get there myself, but it’s good to have dreams and aspirations. Whenever I get the chance to visit a farm I do and it always makes me think of my dad and smile.
Bad jokes and puns. I do love a joke that makes you groan. I’m no good at telling long narrative jokes – I miss things out, get them in the wrong order or forget the punchline – but I can manage to remember a two liner, especially if it involves a pun or an elephant. Here’s a selection of some of my favourites…

Why didn’t the witch’s magic potion work?
Because it was past its spell-by date.

What do you call a one eyed dinosaur?
Doyouthinkhesaurus.

How do you get four elephants in a Mini?
Two in the front and two in the back.

How do you know when there’s an elephant in your fridge?
Footprints in the butter.

How do you know there are two elephants in your fridge?
You can hear giggling when the light goes out.

How do you know there are three elephants in your fridge?
You can't close the door.

How do you know there are four elephants in your fridge?
The Mini is parked outside.

Why do elephants have big ears?
Because Noddy wouldn't pay the ransom.

Does an elephant ever forget?
Only if you lend him money.

Why do elephants have trunks?
Because bikinis don’t suit them.

What is grey and has four legs and a trunk?
A mouse going on holiday

I'm As Corny as Kansas in August...

2010-07-19T15:58:00.000+01:00

I just don't know where the time goes at the moment. My blogging keeps falling by the wayside so it's about time I brought everything up to-date again.

Hmm, that might take a while so for a quick summary of how life is with me these days I think this will do the job pretty well...

I'm as corny as Kansas in August,

High as a flag on the Fourth of July.

If you'll excuse an expression I use

I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love,

I'm in love with a wonderful guy!

A Few of My Favourite Things...

2010-07-08T15:42:00.000+01:00

This has been one of those weeks! After a fantastic weekend with John, the working week has seemed very long and tiring. I’ve spent two days out of the office on a personal development training course (all very interesting and it's given me lots to think about), and have returned to a glut of emails and other things that require my urgent attention when all I want to do it go home and think happy thoughts!

Anyway, I have been tagged by the good friend of Happy Frog to come up with a list of things I like. She’s come up with a list of thirty things that she likes which is well worth a read. I do like a challenge so away we go with part one…

John. Oh yes, cheesy and soppy of me I know but the delectable HB is definitely at the top of my list these days. We just make each other incredibly, ridiculously happy which is a very good thing indeed. What makes the whole thing even better is that we’ve taken it nice and slowly to get to this point and it feels completely right - this is real and not just a flash-in-the-plan whirlwind romance that will crumble into dust. (Oh I hope I haven't just jinxed myself now!)
Being on horseback. I’ve only been riding for just over a year but I absolutely love it. As someone who has always been useless at most sports (especially anything that involves moving objects and throwing, catching or hitting something) to find something that I really enjoy and am actually pretty good at has been a revelation.
Learning to windsurf. Now this one I owe to Rob – if I’d not met and fallen for him and flown off to Egypt I would never have tried this at all. Again it’s a sporty thing that I can actually manage to do which is immensely satisfying! I love the sensation of feeling the power of the wind in the sail and slicing across the water at speed – it’s exhilarating and exciting and damn hard work! (Funnily enough, John is just finishing off a beginners windsurfing course so it’s something we’ve talked about learning together which I think will be great fun.)

Books and reading. I have a confession to make – my name is Tuppence and I’m a complete book junkie! Even worse I am a total book tart and can’t just be faithful to one book at a time! In fact I will usually have at least a half-dozen different books on the go at any one time and will devour them rather greedily. I love reading with a passion and have been addicted to books since my mum taught me to read aged four. I like the way in which a really good book can take me far away and magically transport me to a different time and place so that I can live so many different lives vicariously.
Discovering an author I haven’t read before and enjoying the book so much that it becomes my mission to find and read everything else they’ve produced.
Bookshops, especially independent booksellers. I can wile away hours in a bookshop very easily indeed. I find that I binge buy books – I can’t just get one, I have to get three or four at a time. Some of my favourite bookshops are: The Tinners’ Rabbit in Ulverston, Daunt Books in Marylebone in London and Sam Read Books in Grasmere. One of my dreams for life is to have my own bookshop and teashop – I don’t know that I’ll get there but I like the dream.

My garden. This is the first time I’ve had a garden of my own, and while it may only be a tiny little thing it makes me very happy. I have flowers, herbs, salad leaves, some tomatoes, courgettes and butternut squash on the way, a tiny lawn, some decking with an arbour that has passionflowers growing up the trellis, and best of all my colour-changing solar lights that light up the garden of an evening. I love spending time there, just relaxing with a cup of tea and a good book or daydreaming.
My family. Over the years my relationships with various members of my family went through some really bad patches – at one point I had no contact at all with my brother for eight years. Then one day I finally realised what was important and that if I wanted a good relationship with my family I needed to work at it, to be more open and accepting and less closed off and judgemental. I’m so glad that I did because these days I couldn’t imagine my life without my family in it.
My friends. I couldn’t imagine my life without my friends either. I have a fantastic group of friends, some of whom I see and speak to all the time and some whom I only see once in a blue moon, but they are all amazing people who make life something special.
Blogging and my fellow bloggers. I love being part of this community and sharing stories and experiences with such a diverse group of incredible people from all over the world. You make me laugh, you make me think and you teach me new things and different ways of looking at the world.
A nice cup of Earl Grey tea. Ah, I love the smell of bergamot in the afternoon…
Enjoying a proper afternoon tea with finger sandwiches, dainty cakes, scones with cream and jam, traditional tea and for a real touch of indulgence, a glass of champagne.

Baking and sharing the results. There is something incredibly therapeutic about baking and it’s even better when you get to share the results. Freshly-baked cake always manages to make the day better I find!
Writing, making things and generally being creative. I like being able to express the creative side of me, whether that’s writing, photography or making things. I love feeling completely absorbed in what I’m doing and that sense of satisfaction as you see something taking shape.
Christmas – Hmm, there’s a lot of things that I like about this time of year. Real Christmas trees, mulled wine, making and wrapping presents, the scent of oranges, cinnamon and spices, spending time with the people I love, everyone coming out to sing carols in the village centre on Christmas Eve, the village Dickensian festival, going to watch a production of The Nutcracker, Christmas lights, making gingerbread men, Christmas spiced chutney and chocolate truffles, reading A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve for the umpteenth time, watching It’s a Wonderful Life, wandering round Christmas markets, the crackle of a real fire… I really do love the festive season – it’s a time when we do seem to try a little harder to be better, kinder, more thoughtful and caring people.

Okay, I’ve rambled on enough for one day I think. Time for a nice cup of tea…

Childhood Confession: Tuppence and the Rice Pudding

2010-07-02T10:48:00.000+01:00

In celebration of the fact that it's almost the weekend I think it's time for something a little different, so today for your delectation I present a confession from my childhood...

When I was a little girl (and I still had some elderly relatives in the land of the living) I would often be sent to stay with my dad’s aunt for a few days during the school holidays. I was a rather bright, precocious and lively child (translation: left to my own devices I would get into mischief!) so packing me off for a few days in the holidays would give my parents at least a short while of not wondering what I was up to unsupervised.

Auntie Et was a formidable woman who had never married and lived all her life in a house built for her right next door to her brother, my granddad, in the small Lincolnshire village that they were born in. My grandmother had died more than twenty years before I was born so for the last three decades it had just been the two siblings living next door to one another.

I quite enjoyed my visits – I’d get to run around Auntie Et’s huge garden and the neighbouring countryside, get taken out on day trips on the bus to such glamorous locations as Lincoln and Boston (Lincolnshire not Massachusetts sadly), and get to sleep in a huge double bed all by myself (believe me a double bed seems enormous when you’re only 8!).

The only downside to the whole experience came at meal times. Auntie Et was very much a traditionalist when it came to food – dinner was what you had in the middle of the day and would very much of the meat-and-two-veg variety followed by a stodgy pudding. Now sometimes this could work in my favour: sausage and mash followed by syrup sponge and custard, for example was always a winner. However sometimes dinner could be a torturous experience: steak and kidney or mince with gravy or even worse, liver and onions – to this day I cannot stand any of these concoctions, but I would have to force them down under Auntie Et’s watchful eye. Leaving any food was not an option: "There’s starving children in Africa you know, now eat up that lovely mince."

Now on this particular day dinner had been a particularly unpleasant experience: mince and gravy with boiled potatoes. Worse was still to come though.

As a general rule, I love pudding. However even as a child I was very particular about what I did and didn’t like when it came to desserts. Home-made rice pudding would just turn my stomach. It wasn’t that I didn’t like rice pudding it was just that I liked my rice pudding to be the lovely creamy stuff that came out of a tin, not the awful home-made version that Auntie Et would produce – a watery rice-based gloop complete with a disgusting thick dark skin on top that had the consistency of car tyres.

I had already suffered the agony of mince and gravy, now Auntie Et presented me with a large bowl of vile rice gloop and the instruction that I wasn’t to leave the table until I’d eaten all of it. While I could win a food-based battle of wills with my mother (two hours staring at the cold Brussels sprouts meant that she never tried to make me eat them again) that was never the case with Auntie Et. Fortune decided to smile on me though as Auntie Et announced that she was going into the garden to cut the grass and she’d be back to check that I’d finished my pudding in a short while.

My ~~devious~~ creative little brain went into over-drive – this was my chance to rid myself of the gloop! I had to be quick and inventive though. Just emptying the contents of the dish into the dustbin was no good – that would be the first place Auntie Et would check. There were no pets to help dispose of the evidence. If I dropped the bowl accidentally-on-purpose and smashed it, not only would I get a slap for breaking one of her dishes, I’d then have to suffer a second portion of the gloop.

Then inspiration struck – I quickly emptied the gloop into a sheet of newspaper to make a parcel and dashed upstairs with it. I darted into the bathroom, lifted the lid of the toilet, dropped the parcel of gloop and flushed. The water swirled round and round the bowl and the parcel moved, but as the cistern refilled I could still see the evidence poking out. Obviously the parcel was stuck and what it needed to get it moving was a quick poke with the toilet brush and another flush of water. This time the parcel disappeared from view completely – success!

My smug grin was soon wiped from my face though as the water level in the toilet bowl continued to rise – the parcel must be stuck in the waste pipe. I needed to shift the blockage and fast. The only thing I could think of to do was to flush the toilet again and hope that the water pressure was enough to get things moving. I flushed the toilet again, but it was in vain. The water level in the toilet bowl continued to rise higher and higher. In my impeccable childish logic I shut the toilet lid hoping that would stem the flow. Of course it didn’t and water started to cascade out of the toilet and onto the bathroom floor.

By now in a state of total panic I grabbed the toilet brush and began frantically poking down the pipe. After what seemed like ages the water level slowly started to fall again until it returned to normal. I breathed a sigh of relief, then stepped back and surveyed the wreckage of the bathroom.

There was water everywhere, it looked as if a tidal wave had descended. There was no way I could clean it up without my aunt finding out – now what was I going to do?! To make matters worse it seemed that my enthusiastic attempts to flush the problem away had broken something inside the toilet cistern as there was now a permanent running water feature in place. So I went with the only course of action available to me at this time – I lied.

I ran down the stairs and out into the garden to find Auntie Et doing battle with the lawnmower.

Auntie Et, come and look – I think there must be a something leaking in the bathroom, there’s water everywhere!

My aunt hurried back into the house and upon seeing the state of the bathroom was straight on the telephone to the local plumber. He came straight round and spent the whole afternoon repairing a broken ball cock in the toilet cistern and trying to find the source of the mystery leak.

Numerous pipes, valves and washers were checked and double-checked before he concluded that the flood must have been caused by the toilet overflowing due to the faulty cistern. Auntie Et paid his bill and remained none the wiser about the true cause of the bathroom deluge.

As for me, well the rest of the week passed without further incident or rice-pudding torture, and I learned a valuable lesson about how to dispose of evidence and cover your tracks successfully!

To this day I still won’t eat baked rice pudding and for some reason whenever I happen to encounter it I can almost hear the sound of flushing water…

Butterflies and Blooms

2010-06-29T15:01:00.000+01:00

Last year when I had the big black cloud of depression over my head one of the things I decided to do for myself to help get better was to invest in a butterfly breeding kit. Yes I know that sounds like a strange idea, but stay with me on this one!

I’ve always been fascinated by butterflies - I love visiting butterfly houses, all those beautiful flutter-bys just make me feel ridiculously happy and relaxed for some reason. When I discovered that I could get a breeding kit which meant I could witness the whole caterpillar-butterfly lifecycle I thought it might be a good thing to help take my mind off the misery that was swamping me.

It turned out to be a good idea. I got to watch my caterpillars grow from tiny little specks to large hairy monsters before turning into chrysalids. Another two weeks passed and I was the proud foster parent of eight beautiful Painted Lady butterflies which I released into my garden.

Somehow watching the incredible changes that the caterpillars went through helped to remind me that I was going through a process of change myself and that things would get better, which of course they did. I didn’t exactly emerge as a glorious butterfly, but I did come out the other side stronger, more positive, more determined and more confident.

I enjoyed ‘growing’ my flutter-bys so much that this year I decided to do my bit for insect wildlife again. My caterpillars arrived in the post at the end of May, and five beautiful butterflies emerged last week.

As they fluttered around my garden when I released them on Thursday evening I thought about all the changes in my life over the last year and I smiled. It seems that I’m more like a butterfly than I thought - we’ve both come a long way from where we started out and now we're living in the moment and enjoying things for as long as they last.

Speaking of enjoying things for as long as they last, the flowers in my garden are all in bloom and looking pretty damn fine, if I do say so myself!

Walking on Sunshine

2010-06-28T21:18:00.000+01:00

Well, here we are already over halfway through the year! Where does the time go? It only seems like a few weeks ago I was getting ridiculously excited about Christmas and snow and now it’s the middle of summer with hot weather and sunshine and a hosepipe ban on its way.

For us Brits a little bit of hot weather (or very cold weather) is a really big deal – we don’t really do extremes of temperature so when it gets to the top (or bottom) end of the thermometer things start to go a little crazy.

The minute the thermometer hits above 75F you can be sure that you’ll witness the following:

Blokes with bodies that have seen better days, swaggering around with their shirts off, turning a delightful shade of lobster pink
Women who are old enough to know better wandering around in hot pants and boob tubes and letting it all hang out
Photos of crowded beaches in Brighton, Bournemouth and Cornwall on the front page of the newspapers for no apparent newsworthy reason other than the fact that it’s summer
Photos in the newspaper of random pretty young women sunbathing or eating ice-creams, again for no real reason
Old ladies wandering along the street still wearing winter coats and hats
Back-to-school displays in the shops, the week after the kids break up for the six week summer holiday
Finding the first pack of Christmas cards on sale (usually in Tesco in August I find)

I have to admit that I’m more of an autumn person myself. I suffer with hayfever so for me summer always means streaming eyes and constant sneezing, and I have very fair skin that burns very easily so I’m no sun worshipper. But I still enjoy the sunshine when we get it and I try to make the most of the good weather.

I certainly made the most of it this weekend anyway. I finally got my car back from the garage on Saturday after six long weeks without it so I decided to take myself off on an expedition for the day and headed up the M6 to my favourite part of the UK, the Lake District.

I hadn’t been walking in the Lakes in ages so I decided to head to the Northern Lakes and go on one of my favourite short walks round beautiful Buttermere. The weather was glorious, the birds were in full song, and I had wonderful views of the fells as I walked along the lakeside path.

It was the kind of day that reminds you how sometimes it’s just the simple things in life that are enough to make a day perfect. As I took a break and gazed out across the lake I pondered on just how lucky I am.

Life is very good for me at the moment. I have fantastic friends and a supportive family, things at work have improved significantly and I enjoy my job again, I live in a lovely area, I get to go riding every week, I'm privileged enough to be a school governor and get to be involved in the life of the school, and I have the luxury of being able to spend my free time in some beautiful places.

All good stuff and all things I've talked about before, but there is something else that is putting a smile on my face at the moment that I think it's time I shared with you all. Followers of my private blog will know this already but I haven't wanted to tempt fate and mention it here before now, just in case it all went horribly wrong. Anyway, here goes...I'm not so single any more, in fact I'm seeing someone, it's going really well (touch wood!) and we're both very happy.

Oh and in case you're wondering, yes it is someone I've mentioned before - my partner-in-crime is John (AKA Horse Boy). I'd thought he was only interested in being friends, but he was just taking his time and not rushing things. He was definitely worth the wait.

I don't know where this is all heading, but it really doesn't matter. I'm just enjoying the moment and making the most of it.

Keep Smiling?

2010-06-16T18:16:00.001+01:00

Hmm, I’m starting to wonder if perhaps I need to stop smiling so much – it seems to have the potential to get me into trouble.

I keep getting told that I have a very cheeky smile and a filthy giggle – and that’s been from clients and colleagues who only get to see the well-behaved incarnation of me! Sometimes that smile can end up getting me into tricky situations when people think it means something that it doesn’t.

For example, the other week I’d just finished shopping at the supermarket and was heading back to the car. It was Friday evening, the weekend stretched out ahead of me and I was feeling pretty chirpy so there was a big smile on my face as I pushed the trolley through the car park. I loaded the shopping into the car and turned round to find a man approaching me.

"Hello. Can I have your phone number?"

Erm, no?!

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Eh?!

"Would you like to go out with me?"

Errr, no thank you...

"Well would you just like to be friends then? I’m new in town and I’m trying to make friends and I like your smile."

Umm, thanks, but no thank you.

"Oh well, I just want to tell you that you’re very pretty and you have a lovely smile."

Oh, err, thank you very much. Have a nice evening.

Hmm, that was a strange encounter and all the result of me smiling. He was very polite but I did think that he might like to reconsider his approach and not try approaching women in car parks – that could be interpreted as weirdo stalker behaviour.

I think my smile was probably the reason I used to attract all the drunken, desperate and disadvantaged members of society on public transport as well. It’s also probably the reason why random people stop and start talking to me (or sometimes at me) when I’m out and about.

Obviously smiling at people has unforeseen consequences – perhaps that’s why so many people seem to wander through life with a permanent frown. I mean these days we’re not allowed to smile on passport photos, (apparently it confuses the biometric facial recognition software) so obviously smiling at strangers must be a very bad thing.

Then again yesterday morning, one of the clients I was meeting said that mine was the first smiling face he’d seen all day and it was a lovely sight.

The thing is, sometimes I just can’t help myself and before I know what’s happened a great big grin has crept across my face for no particular reason whatsoever.

I need to smile a lot at work – when you’re in a ‘client facing role’ it’s virtually part of the job description – but I try to make sure that I have a smile on my face anyway, I just find it makes life easier to get through somehow.

One of the things about London life that got to me eventually was the fact that whenever I travelled on the Tube everyone looked so miserable and existed in their own little bubble. You didn’t smile at strangers – who knew what kind of trouble that could lead to?! These days when I’m down in the Big Smoke I make a point of smiling as much as possible at as many strangers as possible. Maybe they just think “uh-oh, there goes another nutter, don’t make eye contact” but every so often they smile back which just makes me smile even more.

I think I’m going to stick with the smiling thing. All the guys I’ve dated have said that it was my smile that got their attention in the first place (well that and my rather large boobs!) so it can be very useful.

I know that when someone smiles at me it makes me feel happier, so I’m going to keep on smiling at the world and hopefully I’ll spark a few more smiles along the way.

(Oh and if you need any more evidence of the power of smiles then read this article.)

Making a Donation

2010-06-11T14:04:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I helped to save lives. I’m not a doctor, a nurse, a paramedic, a fireman, or a police officer. Nor am I a lifeguard, a member of mountain rescue, a member of a lifeboat crew or part of the coastguard. I am a blood donor and yesterday was my donation day.

Every minute of every day someone needs blood. Seven thousand units of blood are needed every day to meet demand in the UK yet 96% of the population relies on the donations of the other 4%. In the US only 3% of the population donates.

If you’re aged between 17 and 65 and in good health you’re probably eligible to give blood. The whole process takes very little of your time, isn’t painful or unpleasant at all and will help save lives.

Blood and blood products are used in a wide range of situations including surgery and treatments for cancer and leukaemia, anaemia and haemophilia. Processed plasma is also used to treat burn victims, to help produce stronger antibodies against diseases like tetanus and hepatitis and to generate anti-D which is used for RhD negative pregnant women carrying RhD positive babies

Now I am incredibly fortunate enough never to have needed any blood myself (no operations, no broken bones – the only time I’ve ever needed the services of a hospital was when I was scalded as a baby) but who knows, one day I may just need it.

Even though I’ve not, several of the important people in my life have needed some of the red stuff - my mum has had numerous operations, my niece Laura had an emergency caesarean and my friend Jenny had anti-D injections when she was pregnant - and I’m so grateful that the blood was there for them when they needed it.

You never know what is going to happen in life. At some stage in our lives one in three of us will need blood or blood products such as platelets or plasma. One day you or someone you love may be depending on the blood donated by others – what would you do if there wasn’t enough?

Why do I give blood? For lots of reasons: because I believe that if we can we should; because I believe that what-goes-around-comes around and that doing something positive for others is good for us; because I know that by the simple act of giving blood I’m helping to save lives. But the main reason I give blood is so that I can know that if one day I need it or someone special to me needs it I will have helped to make sure that there is blood available.

Monday 14 June is World Blood Donor Day. Please do something amazing and give blood.

National Blood Service (England & Wales)

Scottish National Blood Transfusion Service

American Red Cross

Australian Red Cross Blood Service

Canadian Blood Services

Tuppenny Tales Too - Up to date now

2010-06-08T13:57:00.002+01:00

Okay, I won't keep you in suspense any longer - part three of the story is over on the private blog now http://tuppennytalestoo.blogspot.com.
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Tuppenny Tales Too - New Post

2010-06-07T13:11:00.000+01:00

Just to let you know that there is a new post over on the private blog http://tuppennytalestoo.blogspot.com.
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