If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there - Lewis Carroll

I'm fairly used to the quirks and idiosyncrasies of my fellow humans - I have to be, life with Robbie is full of surprises. However I was startled when a rather odd looking man rushed out in front of my car as I drove down the road yesterday. I came to an abrupt halt and the man stood in the road in front of me, turned face the car and saluted! He then engaged in a series of repetitive hand movements as if he was conducting an invisible orchestra, but something about the movements reminded me of the mechanical movements of the figures on the Trumpton clock. Then the man stopped conducting his orchestra, saluted again and marched back to the side of the road enabling me to continue on my way totally bemused by the experience. 

As I drove away I wondered why seemingly insignificant childhood memories such as the Trumpton clock remain vivid in my mind so many years later. My daughter Emily introduced me to Pinterest a while ago and I have to confess I'm addicted to it, I've been creating a album (known as a board) of childhood memories. Pinterest enables you to create and share as many boards and add as many images as you like.  The comics and television programmes of my childhood took up so much space on my childhood memories board that they had to be moved to create boards of their own. Comics played an important part of my life when I was growing up and I looked forward to the arrival of my comics each week with a sense of anticipation which the children of today wouldn't understand. Every issue was read from cover to cover and then saved to be read again another day. Creating that board of all my old comic favourites brought so many memories flooding back.

One of my early favourites was a comic called Treasure which included a beautifully illustrated comic strip about Wizard Weasel who created all sorts of trouble in Princess Marigold Land. I have recently bought a few old copies of Treasure and I realise how wonderful the artwork was, no wonder that it could keep me occupied for hours. As soon as I could read independently I discovered the joys of Beezer, Topper, Sparky, Cor, Beano and Dandy. Cor was my favourite, but I had favourite characters in each of the comics so I read as many comics as I could each week. I liked Keyhole Kate, Beryl the Peril, Desperate Dan, The Bash Street Kids, Mini the Minx, Pop, Dick and Harry and Ivor Lott and Tony Broke to name but a few. I wasn't the sort of little girl who read the Bunty, my comic heroes were all rebels and none of them would be considered politically correct in this day and age. 

One of the characters who has stood the test of time is Minnie the Minx, she looks a bit like a female version of Dennis the Menace but to me she always seemed a bit cleverer and more rebellious than Dennis. I enjoyed her antics but it never occurred to me to copy them, I was a bit of a tomboy but I was a well behaved child and I knew the difference fiction and real life. I think what appealed to me about Minnie the Minx (and some of my other favourite characters) was that she lived life her way, being a girl didn't stop her doing anything. Jim Petrie the artist who drew Minnie the Minx for over forty years (from the beginning of the 1960's to 2001) died at the end of August 2014 and when I read his obituary I realised that I owe a debt of gratitude to the many comic artists and illustrators, whose work entertained us and helped to develop a lifelong habit of reading. The heyday of comics is long gone, times have changed, but Minnie the Minx is still going strong, she was 60 last year - she even has her own statue in Dundee.

There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in. ~Graham Greene

I have been working on a project, it is a rather belated project now because it should have been completed in time for my son's 18th birthday on 20th of December, but I was feeling so poorly that time got the better of me. I am creating a photo scrapbook for my son with photos and memories from my son's childhood. 

I spent ages choosing photos, the hardest part was deciding what not to include. Then when they were printed I had so much trimming and cutting out to do that my fingers ached for days afterwards. Now I am busy arranging the photos and creating the scrapbook - it takes ages to get it looking just right, but he is worth the effort. 

As I look at all the photos I can't help wondering where all the years have gone. How did that angelic looking little chap grow up so fast, it only seems like a few years ago that he played a shepherd in the nativity play at nursery and he walked in swinging his lamb around by the tail!

Here is an extract from my diary dated March 2004 when my son was nine, as you can see life with him has never been dull.

"As we were coming back from Music School at lunchtime my son said "I have my usual maths and English homework, but there is something else this week; I have to catch a worm because Monday is take a worm to school day" 
He went on to explain that they are making a wormery. Surely my life is complicated enough without having to go out and dig for worms! I urged him to wait until Sunday afternoon before collecting his worm, but being a boy he just couldn't wait and when I was working in the kitchen he brought in a large worm and put it into my hand. I was prevailed upon to provide a suitable container for it, and over the next hour or so I was introduced to five or six more worms in assorted sizes. 

At teatime all my efforts to change the subject were
thwarted and we were treated to a lecture from my son on the reproductive habits of the earthworm. His understanding of the term hermaphrodite was rather sketchy, and my memories of `O' Level Biology were too limited to be useful. Sam concluded in his deep and serious voice (which always makes me want to laugh) "I think it really means that they don't enjoy themselves very much!"

We had a bit of a disagreement at bedtime when I realised that the little terror had taken the worms to bed with him. When I refused to allow him to have them on his bedside table. He said "mum, you can't put them outside, they are part of the family now" We compromised and they are spending the night in the shed (in their container). I must remember to thank his teachers for completely disrupting our weekend."

My son has always loved animals, so our pets all have a place in the scrapbook. I thought I had got all the photos for the album but Dave the cat had other ideas, I think he wants to make sure that he will be included. He posed for this photo (he is wearing my son's hat) and it is so cute that I have to include it.

If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.  ~Tom Stoppard

You've got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your grandfather was - Irish Proverb

My son is making a film for his A level coursework and he wanted to incorporate video clips of him as a child, so on Sunday evening I sorted out the old video camera and we took a trip down memory lane.  It is a strange feeling, like looking through a window to the past, but I feel very lucky to have those memories. I watched my son aged about 5 or 6 wearing his Buzz Lightyear pyjamas, opening his birthday presents with his older sisters looking on. It was interesting to observe the dynamics when they were younger and to realise that they may have grown up, but the dynamics haven't changed very much. Next there were clips of all three children taking part in school and Music School concerts, it is confusing those images were so familiar, yet at the same time so remote, as if they happened in another lifetime. 


All this looking back on the past led me to wonder if it had been possible to tell back then how the children would develop and what paths they would chose to follow. I think to some degree the answer is yes, it was clear early on that my older daughter loved learning for it's own sake and it came as no surprise that her early  love of reading and writing developed into a passion for English. We knew early on that our second daughter would work hard to achieve her goals, she is ambitious and she has her father's love of life, she lives life to the full. Perhaps my son's future path was the most difficult to predict, he was always bright but his early ambition was to be a 'trolley pusher' at the supermarket and he resisted any attempt to change his mind. When my aunt suggested that perhaps he would like to be a vet he told her rather sternly that he liked animals from the outside but he didn't think he would like them from the inside! I guess there were indications early on that he would develop a passion for film, but it wasn't clear to me at the time. The thing that was obvious was that he needed to do things in his own unique way and to find his own direction. Perhaps that is the key to successful parenting, to give them as many opportunities and experiences as possible, to encourage and sometimes cajole, but to allow them the space to discover their own strengths. I don't think there are hard and fast rules when it comes to parenting, it is just a case of always doing your best even at those times when you don't think your best is good enough.

Adults are obsolete children - Dr. Seuss

It hasn't been much of a weekend. I was kept awake by the wind last night (the outside kind) it rained all night and the wind was very strong. It woke me up and then I couldn't get back to sleep because I was worried about the roof, it felt as if the wind was strong enough to dislodge tiles from the roof. I got increasingly irritated  with myself because I was tired and I really needed to get some sleep. Then this morning I really didn't feel very well, I am cold and shivery and I ache, I really hope it is not a bug, I haven't got time to be ill. 


This morning Robbie was anxious about the state of the railway, it seems it took a bit of a battering last night and fallen trees and such like have caused problems today. I was more anxious about feeling unwell, Robbie brought me a cup of tea to make me feel better. Then he cuddled up next to me and talked about the weather (and trains). He was surprisingly perceptive in noticing that I am sick and tired of 'weather'. It seems to have rained every day since I they declared that we are in a drought area! I have to admit that Robbie managed to cheer me up with his next topic of conversation. Only Robbie could cuddle up in bed on Sunday morning and talk excitedly about his childhood collection of erasers. Apparently his favourite was one in the shape of a cassette tape which fitted into a cassette player shaped case.


We went out briefly this afternoon to see my mum, there were floods on several roads and our lovely park is flooded; we saw the ducks swimming along what should be a footpath. We were glad to get back to the relative sanity of home. I was still feeling out of sorts, so I wasn't that bothered when Robbie asked to watch Get Carter for the second time this weekend. I had my head buried in the computer when Robbie gave a shout of excitement. He said he had seen a Deltic and he insisted on rewinding it so that I could see it too. He sat there on the floor rewinding it and watching it over and over again. It seems he is easily pleased!

When one jumps over the edge, one is bound to land somewhere.

“When one jumps over the edge, one is bound to land somewhere.” – D. H. Lawrence

I found this quote while I was looking for something completely different. It stayed in my mind because it because it evokes an interesting image. It is self evident that a person who jumps over the edge will land somewhere, but it is not very reassuring. Most of us like a little more certainty, we need to know where we are heading. Taking a leap into the unknown is very scary but sometimes it is the right thing to do.


According to the National Trust young people are missing out on childhood adventures because they are not getting outside. In order to get children outdoors and to encourage a spirit of adventure they have come up with a list of 50 things to do before you are 11¾.

OK, I know it is a bit late for me, but it is an interesting list. I have done most of the things on the list and I had almost certainly ticked off most of them before the age of 11¾, I was a bit of a tomboy. There are a couple of things that I would add to the list. Shelling peas - and finding the occasional wriggling maggot inside. Making a den among the bales in the hay barn, that one is a lot harder these days because we don't have small bales any more, and it would almost certainly be contravene health and safety regulations.


The list led me to think of things that I should do before I get too old to manage it or too forgetful to remember it. I found all sorts of suggestions on the internet, but nothing really captured my imagination. Perhaps I have already got all the wacky, wild and weird things out of my system, or perhaps I am just plain boring. I think having Robbie in my life brings enough craziness to last a lifetime!I commented to my son that it would be fun to be an embarrassment to my children just once in my life. He gave me a long stare, raised one eyebrow and informed me that I could already tick that one off my list! 

I have no great desire to travel or to achieve anything spectacular. It would be nice to have a tidy house, that has been a work in progress for the last 20 years! Perhaps I will achieve it before I die. It would be nice to be debt free, another work in progress, at least the end of the mortgage is not too many years ahead. Robbie have always talked about having a VW camper van when we are older, it would give us the freedom to go wherever the mood takes us. Knowing Robbie we would never stray far from the railway. I have always dreamed of spending a whole summer (or even longer) by the sea. Perhaps that dream will come true one day, who knows. It is nice to dream, but long as my family are happy, healthy and safe I will be content. 

Pyjama Problems

Robbie had a better night last night, partly because he didn't dare to go to bed until it was almost time to get up! I know he must be feeling as tired as I am because trying to wake him up this morning was like trying to wake the dead. I think it's a minor miracle that he managed to get to the station in time for his usual train this morning. I am rather worried that he will be sound asleep by the time he gets to New Street, but hopefully it will be a service that terminates there and he will not wake up to find himself heading further north!

On the subject of sleep my son has a problem. Most people think that being one of only a handful of boys at a girls school would be a dream come true, but it can cause unexpected problems. On Friday his school have a pyjama day to raise funds for something or other. He doesn't possess any pyjamas, he usually wears boxers in bed. He does have a onesie but he claims is skin tight and it would attract too much attention if he wore it to school. So it looks as if he will have to pass on the PJs and just go to school in his normal clothes. Chatting to him about this reminded me of a PJ related incident when he was about eight or nine and trying to be very grown up. At 17 he doesn't like to be reminded of the things he did when he was younger but I treasure all those funny little memories.  

2004
There was a funny little episode last week with S. A couple of days before he went to his first sleepover he said he absolutely had to have some deodorant – Sure for Men Sensitive to be exact. We went to get him some deodorant, but while at the shop he asked for FCUK pre shave face wash. I pointed out that he doesn't shave but he said "it says pre shave, and I will shave one day so it is ideal for me". He went to the sleepover with his grown up toiletries and his new leather jacket looking really cool. A couple of days after he got back I asked him if his mates had been impressed by his grown up stuff. He gave me a long stare, then in a very serious voice he said "you spoiled the effect mum, you packed my Buzz Lightyear pyjamas!" 

Living in the Past

It is half term, it seems as if they only went back to school a couple of weeks ago, but I have my son's company for the week. He (the one who likes to remain nameless) graciously agreed to come to the supermarket with me in return for a lift into town afterwards. According to him we had no food in the house and he was starving, but in reality the fridge, freezer and cupboards were well stocked; he just had a yearning for junk food and cereal. Typical!


As we drove out of the supermarket I wondered aloud if the woman at the traffic lights seriously thought that off white, skin tight almost see through leggings with a short top was a good look. I answered myself with the thought that someone should buy her a mirror for Christmas!  The nameless one in the passenger seat laughed out loud, he said "Mum, you make me laugh you are always living in the past" He went on to tell me that I didn't understand fashion, that may be true but I am fairly sure the world is not ready for sights like that!


In a way he is right, I don't live in the past but I carry it with me. It only takes a word or a look, a sound or a smell to transport me back to the people and places of my past. Sometimes a smile or a guilty look from my son reminds me so much of his dad. The smell from the brewery takes me back to my earliest years when I used to go with my aunt to deliver the church magazine in the streets that are now long gone. The sight of magnolia blossom brings back memories of my college rooms with the beautiful magnolia tree near my window. 

I came across this photo recently, I remember going to the Odeon to see the Aristocats, it was a birthday treat for one of my best friends. Looking at the Ladybird shop next door reminded me how much I disliked shopping for clothes with my mum when I was little. She has always loved fashion, but even when I was tiny I detested frills and fuss. It was a battle of wills, my mum got me to try on countless outfits and I objected to every single one. Sometimes I got my own way, but more often my mum dressed me in the clothes she liked. Among the horrors that still haunt me was the seriously unflattering ruched swimming costume and a bright red wet look raincoat that made terrible noises every time I moved. The worst by far were the orange hot pants, unlike my mum I have never been a hot pants type of person! So maybe my son is right I don't understand fashion, but I do understand that there are some sights that the world will never be ready for!!

From the Top of the Bus

A few weeks ago when I was writing about Robbie's passion for old buses I remembered catching the bus to town with my aunt when I was very young. Usually she would allow me to go up to the top deck and sit at the front. I liked this because I was high enough to see things that I couldn't possibly see from the pavement. If  we walked into town we would stop on the bridge close to the station and my aunt would support me as I scrambled up to look over the wall and down on the station below. I wanted to stay there to watch all the comings and goings at the station, but I was never allowed to. The top deck of the bus allowed me to take a longer look at the station below and if the bus drove slowly enough and had to queue at the junction, I could look across and get a glimpse of the goods yard. The station yard always fascinated me because I could hear the trains from my home. The noises seemed more noticeable when I went to bed at night and I often asked my mum what the trains were doing. Her answer was always the same, shunting, it was probably the only railway related word that she could think of. When I asked what shunting was I got a very sketchy answer, so I was always keen to see the goods yard and see this mysterious 'shunting' with my own eyes.

Thinking about those days so far back in my memory prompted me to look for pictures of the station back then. Oddly I remember the sounds and smells better than any visual memories of the station at that time. It was redeveloped in 1964/5 (vandalised would be a more accurate term) so it is hardly surprising that my memories are not so clear, I was only 4 in 1965! I can remember feeling very cross with them for what they were doing, I felt as if they were spoiling everything. When the new station was built I still loved to look down at the comings and goings on the platform but I disliked the unfriendly new building. To me it looked as if someone had dumped some ugly farm sheds in the middle of the town. It was probably the first building that I actively disliked.

Looking at the pictures I can see that my childhood instincts were surprisingly accurate. Taking away the old station building and replacing it with little more than a tin shack was an act of vandalism and deeply disrespectful to the town. I travelled by train many times during my childhood and teenage years, and the station was cold, ugly and unwelcoming, the sort of place that you would avoid if you possibly could. It is a little bit better theses days because they had to modernise it some years ago, but there is much truth in the old saying - you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. The only good thing I can say about Northampton Station is that the toilets are adequate and well looked after. 


Now plans are afoot to redevelop the station building and the surrounding area. West Northampton Development Corporation are working with Network Rail on the new development. It is hard to think of an organisation more disliked and distrusted than Network Rail, but West Northamptonshire Development Corporation is 'it', it is loathed and distrusted by locals because of it's high handed ways and the horrible things that it has done to our town. The plans for the new development are horrible, the buildings are ugly, soulless and impractical. They certainly haven't planned it with the needs of local people in mind. It only we could travel back to a time before the old station was demolished and start again, then perhaps we could get it right.


A camel is a horse designed by committee. - Alec Issigonis.

Childhood is The Most Beautiful of All Life's Seasons.

I am looking forward to another long weekend. Having such lovely weather last weekend made Easter extra special. On Easter Sunday we had a family picnic in my mum's garden. Having my three year old nephew Oliver there made it extra special. My daughter had the idea of doing an Easter egg hunt for him. He is too small to have a lot of chocolate so I bought a set of hollow egg shaped chicks and my daughter bought some fun things to put inside them (or to hide near them). 

Oliver went racing around the garden looking for the chicks with Grandad giving directions from his deckchair and his cousins trailing behind ready to help him. It was lovely to watch him and to see how much pleasure he got from a tub of bubbles, a balloon on a string, bouncy balls and a selection of books. I think the rest of us enjoyed it every bit as much as he did. It was so nice to have all the family together and to be able to enjoy the sunshine.

I couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness because Oliver has come along so much later than my own children and he will only remember Grandad as old and frail. My children have a wealth of happy memories of time spent with their grandparents and their grandparents have been a very important and much loved part of their lives.  When my children were little they longed for cousins and I longed to become an aunt - we had a long wait! Oliver has cousins who adore him and a whole family who love him very much and who enjoy spending time with him. His experience of childhood will be different, but the important thing is that he is surrounded by people who love him. Grandad may no longer be able to race around leading ponies or playing cricket in the garden, but he and Oliver are great friends and he still enjoys the fun of family life.

Another Birthday

Robbie was not the only birthday boy this week, on Thursday one of my son's childhood heroes celebrated his 60th birthday. Dennis the Menace one of UK's best known comic characters is 60!We were on holiday in Norfolk when my son bought his first Beano annual and discovered the chaos and mischief of Dennis and Gnasher. For us it was rather special because as a child with Asperger Syndrome he loved factual books and he was very uncomfortable about reading fiction. I remember him crying when he read Cat in the Hat because it didn't make sense. Dennis led him into a world of mischief and imagination and the Beano was his first stepping stone towards enjoying fiction. He was passionate about his comics and he amassed a huge collection of Beano annuals and comics and everything had a Beano theme. He had a wooden go-kart, pea shooters, a collection of catapults and other essential items to emulate his hero.

Perhaps Dennis the Menace wasn't a perfect role model, but he wasn't so bad, he taught my son to have fun, and the cartoons always showed that bad behaviour has consequences. Best of all he managed to turn my son into an enthusiastic reader and the little boy who loved the Beano so much is now a young man who hopes to study English at university.

Where Did The Time Go?

It was Emily's 22nd birthday yesterday. Birthdays tend to make you notice the passing of time and I found myself wondering where all the years had gone. I can remember Emily as a little girl so clearly that in one way it seems like no time at all since she was a confident, articulate and inquisitive little girl, yet when I stop to think back it feels as if those those days are so remote that they are part of a different lifetime. I am so glad that we took time to enjoy life and have fun with our children when they were young, and also that we enjoyed each and every milestone of their childhood. Emily has grown into a lovely young woman, I am very proud of her and her brother and sister, and now that they are grown up they bring me every bit as much happiness as when they were little. If I had one piece of advice to pass on to my children it would be not to put off living because you are too busy or because you don't have enough money. Enjoy the time that you have now and the people in your life now because things change so quickly. You can't make time stand still, but you can take a wealth of happy memories with you into the future.

Cardboard Boxes

On Sunday we drove to Norton Canes to see Robbie's dad. I hate that journey, it is so boring and it seems to take forever, but it was important to go because his dad is moving in a few weeks and he had a few boxes of 'stuff' that he wanted Robbie to have. The last thing we need is any more 'stuff' but Robbie's dad was clear that if Robbie didn't want it it was going to the tip. I realiseed long ago that with Robbie it is a case of 'love me love my clutter' and I have to admit that my own life is far from clutter free, Perhaps that is just as well, I understood that the boxes at his dad's house just looked like boxes of junk in reality they were filled with memories and momentos from his childhood, his mum's china, his childhood birthday cards, photos and assorted bits and bobs that have no value except that they trigger long forgotten memories. How could I possibly object to him keeping such things. So this morning finds me in the lounge looking a a collection of cardboard boxes and wondering where on earth I am going to find space to store the contents. I think I will have to do some serious spring cleaning.

The Way to a Man's Heart - Rice Pudding!

It will not surprise you that when not talking about trains one of Robbie's favourite topics if conversation is food. He often talks about his Grandma and the food she used to cook for him, and one day we got onto the subject of rice pudding and how much Robbie loved it. It wasn't one of my childhood favourites, I liked bread and butter pudding, but apple snow was my absolute favourite. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so I decided to make him a rice pudding. I was really surprised that my children had never come across rice pudding and they had no idea what it was. Laura was unimpressed by the sight of it and decided not to try it, but Sam (who is very picky about his food) absolutely loved it. As expected Robbie enjoyed it too and asked me to make it more often. Emily was out, so she missed the 'experience' and she and Sam have been pestering me to make it again. I still find it hard to believe that the world has changed so much since my childhood that today's young people have never encountered something as ordinary as rice pudding!

A Trip Down Memory Lane 17.01.08

I have been busy working on my family tree recently and I decided to scan and add as many old photographs as possible. It was great fun finding baby photos and pictures of parents and grandparents wearing some very dubious fashions.

I came across this cute little chap. Guess Who? It's Robbie, I wonder what happened!

I have been asked several times why there are no photos of me on the blog. The answer is simple, I hate having my photo taken, but her is one taken before I became camera shy.

And finally a picture of Robbie - it seems his outfit was inspired by Stan Ogden!!

Ancient History 21.11.07

The cat with no name (now know as Dave) went back to the Vet this morning. She was very pleased with his progress, he has put on some weight and his ulcerated feet are much less swollen - but they still look very painful. He has a lovely nature with people and he is OK with other animals, he just likes to make it absolutely clear that he is the boss. When we were booking in at the vet's he growled so loudly from his cat carrier that he made a great big labrador tremble! He gave the vet the benefit of his extensive vocabulary when she pulled the gunky bits off his sore feet, but he didn't scratch or bite - he just swore meaningfully! He has to go back in just over a week, but it is good to know that he is progressing well.
Sam made me feel incredibly old today. He had been sorting through some bits and bobs that I had packed away and he came in to show me a 'book from the olden days'. It was actually a Harold Hare annual from the year I was born! I was a great fan of Harold Hare and friends when I was little and I couldn't resist leafing through the annual to revisit some long forgotten friends. Samuel was fascinated, he kept telling me that there were some very modern illustrations considering the book was so old. I asked what he expected, he didn't quite say that the world was totally black and white in those days, but he did say that he had expected the illustrations to be 'water-colours and stuff'. Clearly he imagines that dinosaurs still roamed the streets in those days as well!

I have often mentioned to the children that there was a character in the comics I used to read called Happy Hedgehog who had a very similar hairstyle to Robbie. It didn't take Sam long to spot the similarity, and on closer inspection it seems Robbie had a bit more in common with the cartoon character than I first thought - dodgy tie, always eating, peculiar footwear! See what you think!

Boy's Toys 15.10.2007

I am feeling depressed this morning, I knew it would happen one day but last night I was shocked by the sudden revelation that I am old. It happened quite unexpectedly, Robbie was chatting to me in the bedroom and suddenly I realised that I had become my grandmother. It was the subject of our conversation that disturbed me so much - bowels! I was horrified, I had a disturbing vision of Les Dawson and Roy Barraclough as Cissy and Ada and I vowed to steer clear of the subject of bowels for at least another twenty years!

Robbie took four of our six children to London on Saturday to visit the Science Museum. Robbie managed to fall over again, this time only his dignity was bruised. He phoned to tell me about his fall and he seemed very upset by it, this worried me until I realised that he was only troubled about his T shirt, he had spilled hot chocolate and had got two small stains on his top! Everyone had a good time and Robbie arrived home exhausted.

Robbie's recent difficulty with the vertical prompted a detailed conversation about childhood toys. Yes, you've guessed it we were talking about Weebles, the ones that wobble but don't fall down! Robbie went on to say how much he enjoyed visiting his cousins because he loved playing with their dolls pram and their Sindy dolls. Clearly he has always been in touch with his feminine side! I was not really a doll person, I liked my Tiny Tears, but I was more into cars and in those blissful non PC days I had a selection of pop guns and cap guns and a couple of rather splendid Red Indian head dresses. I even had a wigwam. I was a fan of a series called the Virginian, in fact I watched quite a lot of cowboy films. I had a whole fleet of toy cars, including Lady Penelope's pink car and the Batmobile. Robbie recalled his Evel Knievel set with realistic motorbike noises, but Britain's toys were among my favourites. I had the zoo, the farm and the riding stables, I even had a few cowboys, but I didn't have a fort. My parents had a toy shop and I loved setting out all the Britain's models, rows and rows of all types of soldiers, it kept me busy for ages. I liked to help with the Action Man displays too, but despite my interest in boys toys, it didn't take me long to work out that most boys were incredibly boring. After all why would they waste hours building and painting Airfix models when they could buy ready made boats, planes etc from the Corgie and Dinky ranges that were much nicer and didn't fall apart when you touched them. Of course there were exceptions, not all boys were boring, my dad was cool and my heros of the time were Jim the builder and Martin the paper boy!

Confessions of a Hoarder 15.07.07

I must admit that I am a bit of a hoarder, in fact I am a lot of a hoarder, only surpassed by Robbie who has developed his hoarding skills to Olympic standard. Since we don't live in a mansion we really need to get to grips with some of the more ridiculous excesses of hoarding. I had a stern word with myself on the subject yesterday when I was folding the towels from the tumble dryer. A frayed and tired looking pink towel emerged and I realised that I had bought that towel when I was only a little older than Emily, yes that makes it well over 20 years old, closer to 25! It has seen so many family milestones and family holidays but ultimately it is just a towel and it has to go. My grandma would have cut it up to make cleaning cloths but these days we use kitchen towels, so it will be heading for the rag bin at the recycling centre. Come to think of it my grandma even cut up 'smalls' to use as floor cloths or polishing cloths, but in those days 'smalls' were not exactly small!

I have already been fairly brutal with my wardrobe, on the principle that if it doesn't fit it doesn't stay, but there is still more work to do. When Robbie read my entry yesterday about his embarrassing pose, he pointed out that I would be equally at home in a Beryl Cook painting. Sadly it's true, I aspire to be thinner but I also aspire to be taller and I probably have as little chance of achieving the former as the latter. It seems to take all my effort just to maintain my present weight but if one day I achieve a more sylph like figure it will be such a huge achievement that I will reward myself with a whole new wardrobe. Until then, if it doesn't fit it doesn't stay.

Well, that is the easy bit, now to confess the clutter that I can't bear to part with. Books! I am terribly possessive about books and I simply can't bear to part with them. Between the bathroom and the airing cupboard we have a huge bookcase that reaches all the way up to the ceiling. It is full of children's books, all grown out of long ago, but all loved and cherished and far too precious to part with. Sometimes I find myself walking upstairs and stopping at the bookcase to look at one of the books and to remember those precious days when the children were younger. That bookcase is just the tip of the iceberg more children's books are crated up and stored under Sam's bed (to stop him stuffing all his junk under there) and believe it or not I donated about 8 crates of books to a small school last year! We all have bookcases in our bedrooms and all are overflowing, Robbie's railway books and magazines intrude into every room, not to mention his cd's, vinyl records and model trains and track paraphernalia. There's no alternative, the books are taking over the house so we will have to buy a tent and live in the garden!

Laura wrote this when she was at Middle School, somehow it sums up why I find it so hard to part with their books, and yes I admit it we have a loft full of teddy bears!

My Bedroom

Through half closed eyes, at night
The memories are played.
Of different times
In this same room
Of younger, carefree days

I see the cheerful colours
And teddy bear designs
That once I loved,
In this same room.
The happiest of times

I hear the gentle voices
Of a younger dad and mum;
Reading to me
In this same room.
Of fairy-tales and fun.

I recall the doll’s pram
And the much loved teddy bear
That used to be
In this same room
When make believe reigned there

I see the Christmas stocking
That Santa came to fill
With childish gifts
In this same room
When magic charmed me still

I remember details
Of how it used to be,
When life was young
In this same room.
Time was eternity

My eyes survey the chaos
Surrounding me today;
Keepsakes and clutter
In this same room.
I treasure yesterday

Ever present memories
Of warmth and love and care
Surround me now
In this same room
A love that’s always there.


By Laura Jones

Mr Benn 10.06.07

I was getting ready to take Sam to his Uncle's when Robbie asked me who I thought was the best candidate for the Deputy Leadership of the Labour Party. That really was a random question because it has so little relevance to me that it is not on even on my radar, but I am used to odd questions and I always do my best to answer, so I had a look at the list of candidates. I was looking for the name of that woman that looks like a horse, you know, the one who likes caravan holidays. Anyway she wasn't a candidate, I thought she would have been a good bet because she would be unlikely to be led astray, but then thinking about it looks didn't stop David Blunkett and Robin Cook from going astray, there must be some very silly women in the world! I cast my eyes down the list of unfulfilled egos and hazarded my opinion that Hilary Benn was probably the best option. Robbie said that he didn't know anything about her, and he refused to believe me when I told him that it was a man! He then demanded to know the reason for my choice, well I guess there are two reasons, I think he would give Gordon a hard time because they are not exactly on the same page politically speaking. I also think the man must have bottle, because anyone who studied Russian and East European Studies at University and only became an MP in 1999 but thinks he has what it takes to be deputy leader must have the essential ability to be a successful politician. You may wonder what that is, it is the ability to ignore the facts and carry on regardless!! Actually there is one genuine reason why he probably is a good candidate, he is teetotal.

I know much more about the other Mr Benn, no not the potty one who writes diaries, the one who lived at 52 Festive Road, he was an iconic figure in my childhood. He lived in an ordinary street in an ordinary town, but from time to time he escaped from the ordinary and he visited a Fancy Dress shop, tried on a costume and stepped in to an extraordinary adventure. When his adventure was over the shopkeeper would appear as if by magic and Mr Benn would be back in the changing room and he would happily step back into his ordinary world, but he always found a little momento of his adventure. Those programmes made a big impression on me, perhaps they made me unwilling to settle for an ordinary uneventful life - there must be some reason why I find Robbie irresistible!!

Railway Memories

The girls have been ganging up on me - nothing unusual there! They claim that I am being unfair to Robbie on the blog. No, I haven't exaggerated his idiosyncrasies, he really is like that, what I have apparently failed to admit is that I am weird to - according to them! Well, I suppose I need to be a bit unusual to fit in to this family.

When, I asked what they would like me to own up to, the first item on their list was my peculiar taste in men - but since I can't see what the problem is someone else will have to write about that. The next item on their list was watching train DVD's and I freely admit to that. I am interested in history, so I particularly enjoy watching old film footage. I like watching footage of routes that I am interested in too, and I find railway buildings fascinating.

Since Robbie and I have been together we have found that his passion for trains fits very well with my interest in history and photography. My own liking for trains began in childhood, long before I met Robbie. I spent my first six years as an only child living close enough to Castle Station to hear the trains. At night when I went to bed I listened to the familiar railway sounds and like so many other children I enjoyed the Rev Awdry's railway stories. I loved to go to the park with my grandma and my favourite spot was not the playground or the stream, it was the special high bench in the far corner of the park. It enabled me to look across the river to the railway line, and I would sit there for hours watching trains. In those days there was much more traffic on the line, a child doing the same thing today would die of boredom! Steam was already a rarity, I did see a few and I was just as happy to watch what my grandma called the 'smelly old diesels'. I liked them, and even as a little girl I loved the freight trains. I used to walk across Westbridge a couple of times each week on the way to my aunt's house. She would let me scramble up and look down over the wall at the station below, there was always something to see, I loved the sounds and the smells of the railway. I miss that, the smells have more or less gone and the sounds are different now.

When I went to college in London I found myself living right opposite a station and the sound of the railway became as familiar as my own heartbeat, and travelling by train and tube was an ordinary part of life. So it is not really surprising that Robbie's obsession with all things railway has rekindled my own interest in trains.