To succeed in life, you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funnybone - Reba McEntire

A couple of weeks ago when I was chatting to my older daughter Emily she stopped in mid conversation and looked at my hands. She said "mum look at your hands, they've turned into Grandma's hands" and she took my hand in hers and looked at it closely. I can always rely on one or other of my offspring to tell me the uncomfortable truth. Some months ago my son had a word with me about my hairstyle, he warned me not to have my hair cut any shorter or I would be in danger of looking like a lesbian. I couldn't help laughing, I may have cared what people thought once, but not these days people can think what they like. 

I understood exactly what my daughter meant about my hands. You can try all sorts of lotions and potions to make your face look younger but your hands tell the truth, you can't stop your hands ageing. Several weeks ago my son asked me to buy him make up and a special sort of liquid to create scars ready for Halloween. I wasn't impressed, I don't approve of the Americanisation of our customs and traditions; as far as I'm concerned trick or treating is worse than begging because there is an element of threat. I managed to stop myself before my thoughts became words. Will knows my thoughts on Halloween and I knew he wouldn't be going trick or treating so there was no harm in him dressing up to go to a party. He has had a passion for dressing up ever since he was a little boy and in recent years he has become very creative with stage make up. It crossed my mind that if I'm not careful I will be like my grandma - she managed to turn disapproval into a performance art! When I was little it seemed as if she disapproved of everything that I found enjoyable and I don't want to be like that, so Will got his items for Halloween and he promised to send me some photos.

I used to enjoy bonfire night when I was a child but it seems to have got a bit out of control now. When I was growing up we just had a few fireworks in the back garden, Catherine wheels, Roman candles, screeches, traffic lights, jumping jacks, a couple of small rockets and some sparklers. It was all carefully supervised by my mum to make sure we stayed safe, and when our little display was over we would go back into the house and eat jacket potatoes to warm us up after standing out in the cold. Fireworks seem bigger and louder now (and much more expensive) and we are bothered by the sound of fireworks for days before and after bonfire night. It is very upsetting for the animals, so many dogs and other animals are terrified by the sound of fireworks. I think perhaps we need tighter regulation about when fireworks can be set off. I can remember my grandma saying that fireworks were a wicked waste, she said it was like burning money and I have to admit that she had a point. I haven't bought fireworks for over twenty years, but I think it would be a shame to see the custom die out completely.

The weather is finally getting a bit colder, not perhaps as cold as I would expect it to be in November but cold enough to make me want to wear a coat sometimes. At last I've packed away my summer clothes, dusted off some of my autumn and winter clothes, taken a big bag of stuff to the recycling bank and a few bits and bobs that weren't good enough for recycling were given a decent burial. I'm not usually very good at parting with clothes so I decided to reward myself with a couple of new items. I fell in love with a needle cord skirt which had a subtle rose pattern, but it was a little bit tight and much too long. I wasn't going to let a little thing like that put me off, I bought it anyway and made plans to alter it. It took a fair bit of planning and measuring, I unpicked the waistband, took out the zip, lining and part of the side seems, shortened it from the top then repositioned the zip, lining, side seems and waistband. It only took me a few hours and it was worth the effort because it fits perfectly and I like it. I guess the ability to sew is a very useful skill that both my mum and my grandma passed on to me, I'm grateful for that and I'm grateful for the example of my mum's determination and ability to cope with all the challenges that came her way. She has always told me that a woman can do anything that a man can do and we can do most things better because we take time to plan and we read the instructions! 

It was raining last Friday when I went to stay with my friend Clare but when I drove back on Saturday afternoon I was able to enjoy the beautiful Warwickshire and Northamptonshire landscape. As I left the A5 and joined the A428 at Crick the sun was sinking towards the horizon with a breathtaking display of deep fiery red colours. Ahead of me were deep, dark storm clouds but looking through the rear view mirror I could see clear skies, it was the sort of day when amid all the confusion you would expect to see a rainbow. On this occasion I only saw a faint one after I had driven away from the storm clouds, but it reminded me that I saw a very bright rainbow on another recent journey home from Clare's and when I was at her house in September we saw a double rainbow. I know it is only a natural phenomenon but I don't think it's possible to see a rainbow without feeling a glimmer of hope.

When I got home on Saturday the cats tried to lie to me, I knew that my daughter had fed them but they acted as if they were starving so I gave them some extra food and then went to sit down with a cup of tea. When I went back into the kitchen Dave the cat had vanished, I found him in a little den that he had created between the fridge freezer and the radiator. It is a fairly narrow space, I have several narrow storage boxes stacked there with brushes and mops standing behind. On top of the storage boxes I have a bag of reusable shopping bags and another bag full of carrier bags, Dave had made himself a cat nest in the bag of carrier bags. He has several cat beds, igloos, blankets etc, but he was a stray for a long time, old habits die hard and he likes to find his own comforts. I couldn't resist taking a photo of him with his 'poor pathetic me' face. I wouldn't let him stay on his nest of carrier bags, but maybe I will buy him a radiator bed instead.

Everyone is the age of their heart ~ Guatemalan Proverb

Most people say that my mum and I are not alike at all. She loves to shop but I don't, she loves clothes and fashion but I am not interested in clothes at all, she likes bright colours while I prefer blues and greys, she loves to go out but I prefer to stay in. People who know us better know that if you ignore the superficial differences we are very similar. We both have a steely determination, family comes first for both of us, neither of us suffer fools gladly and we both have a bit of a reputation for 'telling it as it is', in fact we can both be a but scary when the need arises! 

My mum is 82 years young and she still likes to shop until she drops, or to be more accurate until I drop! My daughter (who is 21) has taken her shopping a few times recently and after an afternoon shopping with Grandma she has arrived home absolutely exhausted. The last time they went clothes shopping together Grandma arrived home with lots of new clothes including two pairs of skinny jeans, one red and one deep pink!

My mum and Robbie are allies when it comes to clothes and shoes. They don't have the same tastes but they both love bright colours and they both like to be a bit different, they don't slavishly follow fashion but they love clothes and they share a passion for shoes. The other day Robbie wore his new waxed canvas Dr Marten boots when we went to see mum and she said that she would like to have a look at the Doc Shop. I was rather surprised, but Robbie jumped at the chance of another visit to the Doc Shop and a shopping trip was arranged.

So this morning we picked my mum up and took the scenic route past Castle Ashby and on through Grendon to Wollaston and the Doc Shop. I didn't think that my mum would like anything but it wouldn't have been a wasted journey because I needed to exchange a pair of shoes that I bought last weekend. My prediction was wrong, my mum loved the Doc Shop, she bought two pairs of shoes and a pair of boots! In fact it took me all my time to persuade her not to buy a pair of bright yellow 1461s - I am not a fan of yellow! She bought a pair of high mauve wedges, a pair of deep pink loafers and a pair of suede boots knee length boots. I think I will have two people nagging me to take them to the Doc Shop from now on!

When we finished at the Doc Shop we drove to Philadelphus Jeyes at Earls Barton. Mum loved having a look around at all the different departments, but most of all she enjoyed a welcome cup of tea and a snack at the Apothocoffee Shop. She bought a couple of new jigsaws, a recipe book, and a few other bits and bobs. I think she enjoyed her shopping trip.

Be on the alert to recognize your prime at whatever time of your life it may occur ~Muriel Spark

What to wear?

I had a stabbing pain in my chest while I was at work on Tuesday evening. I was busy so I tried to ignore it, but after about an however I couldn't tolerate it any longer, it was as if a knife was being forced through the wall of my chest. So I went to the bathroom to investigate and I found that the underwire in my bra had snapped and the rough end had forced it's way through the material and it was in the process of embedding itself into my skin. I removed the the broken underwire, it left me looking a bit lopsided for the rest of the evening but at least I had put a stop to the pain. It was one of my favourites and finding a comfortable replacement will be challenging, but that is a problem for another day.

On the subject of clothes, I was treated to a fashion show when I got home from work. My son was getting ready for his university interview the next day and he planned his outfit very carefully. We were consulted about his choice of shirt, the colour of his tie and then we were asked to help him choose the most suitable tie. I used to think that choosing what to wear was much easier for men, but now I am not so sure. I think he looked very smart and he worked very hard to ensure that he was well prepared for his interview so all we can do now is to keep our fingers crossed.

“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn” - Orson Welles

My son persuaded me that he absolutely had to have new clothes ready for the start of term. He is in the final year of sixth form so he doesn't have to wear uniform and he doesn't seem to have grown since the end of last term but it seems that he can't possibly cope with the clothes that he already has. So one day last week I had the joy of a shopping trip to Topman and several of his other favourite shops.

He wanted a pair if chinos, really I would have liked to just give him the money and just send him shopping on his own, but he had asked me to go with him and it is unusual for him to want us to do things together, so it was important for me to go with him. Every pair of trousers that we looked at seemed to be designed for Stretch Armstrong. Wearing them would certainly be a shape changing (and probably life changing) experience! The legs were impossibly narrow but the bottom was loose so that they give the wearer a strange bow legged look as if they have lost their horse or have had an unfortunate accident. My son assured me that they are meant to look like that, and just to be sure that I got the message he told me that old people don't understand fashion! It is so nice to have teenagers around to make me feel good about myself!!

He chose a pair of 'Stretch Armstrong' trousers with turn ups in a contrasting colour - and he dares to say that Robbie's fashion sense is weird! He then spotted another pair of trousers on the sale rail, they were the same sort of style but without the contrasting turn ups. That was the sum total of our purchases from Topman, but we still had more to buy. He chose a pair of long shorts, a patterned jumper, a pack of socks including a green pair with ducks on and one or two other bits and bobs. He was very happy with his purchases and to be fair the clothes looked better on than off, but I can't help thinking that there was a lot of truth in the words of Oscar Wilde

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months" - Oscar Wilde

Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can - Danny Kaye

What am I going to do with Robbie? We are both on leave from work and we had big plans for our week together, in fact we had something planned for every day, but at the end of last week Robbie expressed a burning desire to travel to Weymouth on Monday. When I asked why he wanted to go to Weymoyth he looked at me as if I was mad and told me "that's where the train goes". It was the train that was the attraction not the destination. To be fair he said I could go with him and he offered some sort of explanation about it being a new route or a new timetable or something like that. I had switched off by then, the idea of another marathon train journey did not appeal to me after our trip to the South West on Saturday. He seems to have had a good time but I wasn't best pleased when he announced (from a safe distance - he didn't tell me until he got to Weymouth) that I had to stay up until after midnight to go and fetch him from the station!

While Robbie was away I shopped for a picnic lunch for the next day because we had planned a trip to the National Railway Museum. We didn't need an especially early start, but after the late night Robbie had difficulty getting himself into gear, so in the end we decided to have a more relaxed day and stay local. We needed to go and pick up a parcel from the sorting office so we decided that we would pop into the farm shop as well. They didn't have any dripping for Robbie, but we bought a couple of other treats instead. The farm shop is part of a small outlet centre attached to the garden centre, so we had a look at the other shops too. I had forgotten that they had a clothing outlet there, but it didn't take long for Robbie to spot the Weird Fish stuff. He found so many T shirts that he liked, I guess they were OK but they were all very loud, so I wandered off hoping that he would follow. I was looking around a jewellry shop when Robbie came bounding in to tell me that he had seen some nice shorts and he wanted me to look at them. As we went back towards the shorts he said that I would like them because they were a bit more subtle than his usual choice. They were black and white in the loudest pattern imaginable, I didn't like them at all but according to Robbie's logic they were subtle because they didn't contain any bright colours!! 

What goes on in his head?

It was 8.30am on Saturday morning and I was tired of waiting for Robbie to wake up, so I decided to wake him up. He seemed oblivious of the first two or three prods, then suddenly he turned over and said "That's a surprise, there were no announcements". I asked what he was talking about and he said that he dreamt that Google had a new operating platform and he was trying to work it out. Not for the first time it left me wondering what goes on in that man's head. I have never knowingly had a dream about Google, in fact I haven't given it a passing thought. What sort of person  dreams about Google for heaven sake!!


We had to go shopping for a gift for Robbie's new nephew. I was tempted by the usual sort of baby designs but Robbie was attracted to the more colourful designs. We couldn't agree, but then Robbie spotted a blue all in one with a Thomas the Tank Engine design and his mind was made up, apparently you are never too young for trains!! I know when I'm defeated, but I made sure that we found a cute cuddly elephant for the baby too.


Robbie spent most of the day planning and re planning the best route to south Staffordshire. I wondered why it was proving so hard to plan a train journey, I know it was a bank holiday weekend, but surely it shouldn't be that difficult. Eventually all became clear; he could take a more direct route and have time to eat with me before he left, but if he took the more contorted route via Walsall he could do a bit of bus spotting as well! If time had been on his side I think the buses would have won, but in the end he chose to spend a little longer with me so that we could go and eat.


I dropped Robbie off at the station in good time for his train and I drove off to do some shopping and to enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet. The peace and quiet didn't last long, when I got home my son had taken control of the television and I had to endure his viewing choices all evening. Well I didn't have to, but it would have been unkind to object when there was nothing that I wanted to watch. I occupied myself with family history research on the internet and before long I had 'zoned out' the junk on television. Meanwhile Robbie was at a family party to celebrate the wedding of his nephew (a different nephew, not the newborn one!!) according to his texts he was having a great time, but he had to admit that he is getting old - the music was too loud!! Maybe it wasn't such a hardship to put up with junk television after all, at least I could control the volume! 

Communication Problems

I rarely write about my work, partly because I don't want to cross any boundaries but mostly because it probably wouldn't make very interesting reading. I meet some really nice people in the course of my work, but sadly I meet plenty of the other kind too. I always try to be helpful but is not unusual to get shouted at and called names, you would be surprised how nasty seemingly ordinary people can be about the most trivial things. I have even had to deal with threats of physical harm. So you can imagine my confusion when an Indian gentleman approached me with a broad smile and began to remove all his outer clothing. Hat, scarf, two pairs of gloves, coat, padded waistcoat etc, etc. It wasn't an especially cold day but it seemed that he was dressed for an Arctic expedition. It is rather unusual for customers to remove their clothing, they are not usually with us long enough for that, so despite his smiles I was a little weary of his motives.


Thankfully he stopped disrobing before it became embarrassing, but then I was faced with another problem. He began talking to me and I didn't have a clue what he was saying. He repeated himself several times but I was making no progress at all. I asked him what language he was speaking (thinking I could perhaps find someone else to converse with him) but he informed me that he was speaking English! A very long 20 minutes followed with lots of smiles, nodding and waving of arms but not a lot of progress in terms of communication. He had brought out all sorts of documents from his pockets. He showed me pictures of his wife and children and he taught me how to pronounce their names. He showed me a train ticket indicating that he had been to London the weekend before and a series of mimes suggested that he had visited Madam Tussauds, Buckingham Palace and other landmarks. After 20 minutes, I knew his name and job title from a business card, I knew the names of his wife and children and I knew what he had done with his leisure time in the last week or so but I hadn't got a clue why he had come to see me! 


At that point we were joined by a second smiling Indian gentleman, also dressed for the Arctic. He possessed a few more words of recognisable English and over the next ten minutes the pair told me that they were here for two weeks for a training course, but they both lived in India. They had enjoyed their stay here very much and they wanted to find out as much as possible about our town and how different businesses worked so they had come in to have a look around. The first man had just stopped for a chat and he had showed me the pictures of his family because he missed them very much. They left still smiling and promised to come and see me again next year when they are back in England. It was rather a surreal experience, but it is something I will remember with a warm smile, it was much better than being shouted at!

If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins. Benjamin Franklin

One thing that may be a mixed blessing for Robbie is that I understand him very well, too well for his comfort at times! There have been times such as the test card incident and the fuzzy felts birthday card when I've thought that Robbie didn't understand me at all, but that's not true. He knows that I love him and even when he gets things horribly wrong his intentions are usually good - misguided but good. 


Thankfully I have help in keeping Robbie on the 'straight and narrow', my older daughter (mini me) and my mum (senior me) keep reminding him of the 'rules'. 


1) Never attempt to buy clothes for me without 'advice'
2) Never spring a surprise on me - his type of surprises scare me!
3) Retro is not always good
4) Never choose music for me
5) Never make arrangements which can not be changed later.
6) If in doubt, don't!!


It probably makes me sound very boring, I'm not really, but perhaps I indulge in quieter passions than Robbie. I think the real difference is that I am the one who has to keep my feet on the ground and not let my passions run away with me. 

I was so impressed with Robbie this week, he brought me a little treat and I was in heaven. It was a can of Root Beer from Cybercandy and it was absolutely wonderful, I love root beer. It was the perfect way to show he cared, not stupidly expensive and very thoughtful. There were just a couple of little problems, it made me wonder 'what he had done' (but I was tactful enough not to put that thought into words!) and it has left me craving Root Beer. Maybe he does understand me a bit after all, he certainly knows how to make me happy!!

Decisions, Decisions

We had a rather unusual Friday evening. We were going out to a rather special event on Saturday and the only instruction was to wear something that we would feel comfortable in. To me comfortable means something that will not dig in when I sit down and something that makes me feel reasonably confident (or at least something that doesn't make me look like the back of a bus) I had thought about it during the week and by Friday evening I knew exactly what I wanted to wear, Robbie on the other hand hadn't  given it any thought until Friday evening. Asked my advice and I suggested jeans and his red T-shirt, but he rejected that idea on the grounds that it was not smart enough, then he vanished.

He reappeared after a few minutes wearing only his pants (scary) and clutching a selection of clothes. He appeared in front of me wearing a tucked in coloured check shirt and his smart casual charcoal trousers. The trousers are very nice and the shirt is OK but together they made him look 'special' with just a touch of the Simon Cowell waistband going on. I gave him a very firm no, but being Robbie he kept asking why so we had to have an in depth discussion about it. Robbie tried several more outfits, and that annoying word 'why' popped up far too often. In the end I felt as if I was trapped in an endless episode of Mr Benn, there was far too much dressing up going on. I wonder how Mr Benn's wife felt about all that dressing up, it was very dubious. We ended up more or less where we started, Robbie decided to wear his jeans with a nice shirt - tucked out.  The whole experience made me recall a cartoon that I saw recently, men and women really do see things differently when they look in the mirror!

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!!

Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society - Mark Twain

My mum is an amazing woman. She loves clothes and at 80 she likes nothing better than a shopping trip with her granddaughters. When it comes to clothes shopping she loves fashion and she shops enthusiastically, she has plenty of stamina and she will happily shop all day. She likes bright cheerful colours, high shoes and matching accessories. She gave up on my fashion sense years ago; she respects my right to wear more sober styles and very little make up but just occasionally she will tell me "you can wear that when you are dead!" 

My mum finds Robbie's approach to fashion rather surprising, but she supports his right to express his individuality and to wear bright colours - but perhaps not all at once! They often chat about clothes and shoes and Robbie likes nothing better than flicking through her collection of catalogues to 'window shop'. Earlier this week he was flicking through her cotton traders catalogue and showing me the many things that he would like when suddenly he emitted a groan of delight. He said "oh yes, they would look great with some bright contrasting boots, I really want them" He thrust the catalogue in front of me to reveal that 'they' were a pair of bright red trousers. I gave him a steady stare trying to work out if he was serious - he was! He looked to my mum for support but she tactfully said there may not be many opportunities to wear red trousers. I told him that it would be a mistake, he would look like Santa on his day off - or a Smurf!! I just hope that he will see sense.

Teenagers are people who express a burning desire to be different be dressing exactly alike.

The son who must remain nameless has been at home since finishing his GCSE's in early June and before that he had exam leave  so it feels as if he has been 'at leisure' for a very long time. He started sixth form at his new school on Tuesday so on Monday he and I had a shopping day to get an extra pair of shoes and some more trousers for school. It was really nice to spend some time together, usually I am just the taxi!


I am not a natural shopper, in fact I go to town so rarely that I find that a number of the shops have changed since I was last there. So I was not fully prepared for the joys of Topman and River Island. Why do they have to be upstairs? Clearly 'the nameless one' gets his love of clothes and clothes shops from his dad. I was fairly calm when he showed the carrot cut chinos that he wanted, they were in a colour that I am more used to seeing in the cat tray on a very bad day but I don't have to be seen out in them so I gave in without a fight.


Next we looked at 'boat shoes' apparently they are retro, they would certainly not have looked out of place in the old men's section at Marks and Spencer. His heart was set on a pair that were navy blue and brown and eventually he found a pair to fit. That was the easy bit, the price was a bit hard to take, but if that is what he chose to spend his shoe allowance on he will have to wait a while for the next pair.

He also needed what he described as a pair of short joggers for sport. Apparently he had seen a pair that were just right and he wanted me see them. After trailing around the entire store he finally found the desired garment and my composure became a distant memory. They were in a dirty off white colour in a loose almost baggy fitting with cuffs around the knee. I couldn't possibly let him be seen out in public in something like that, I have seen a similar garment in the past but it was worn by an elderly man at a care home who needed extra room for a nappy! The price was the deciding factor, this was one desire that he would not become reality. We went to a sports shop and found some (slightly) more normal sports shorts. We went into several other shops so that he could show me all the items on his wish list so by the time we drove home my feet were killing me. I have seen some sights in my life, but those joggers were certainly 'memorable' for all the wrong reasons! 

I Want My Bed Back!

I woke up early this morning, my back ached but I was still tired. I had to sit up for a while to let my back sort itself out, so I had half an hour on the computer. I tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the bedroom, we still haven't got our clothes sorted out properly since our holiday. Mentally I pushed that particular job higher up my 'to do' list, but my top priority at that moment was more sleep and I snuggled back under the duvet to make the most of my unhurried Sunday morning.


After a lazy morning Emily and I went shopping to buy a present for my new nephew and of course something for his big brother too. Baby George was easy to buy for, we chose some very cute clothes, then we spent ages trying to find something just right for Oliver. We chose Playmobil sets because Emily always loved those when she was little. It was lovely to spend time with Emily because I haven't seen much of her since getting back from our holiday.


Before we went out I'd asked Robbie to sort out his clothing. He had agreed rather too willingly so I didn't expect much action. I was pleasantly surprised to find that he was up in the bedroom sorting out when we got back. He came trotting down the stairs in his pants to explain that he'd been busy reorganising his Tshirts. He then went on to explain a rather complicated arrangement about what he keeps where, and I have to admit that I 'tuned out' at that point.


I didn't actually go and look at the bedroom until this evening when we got home from delivering my mum's luggage to her house. I am not sure what I expecter but what I saw were piles of clothes like molehills all over the bed. It didn't seem as if there was less 'stuff' around the room, but I couldn't be sure. He insists that he worked hard at sorting his clothes out, but I have a sneaky suspicion that he was sidetracked by his laptop. Who knows, all I can be sure of is that I still need to devote a couple of days to tidy the bedroom. When it was bedtime I had to send the 'mole catcher' upstairs to find the bed before I could get into it!

The Art of A Good Argument

The fact that Robbie and I argue will come as no surprise to regular readers of the blog, but the things that we argue about are perhaps a little more surprising. I listened to a discussion on the radio recently about the causes of arguments within relationships and I realised that Robbie and I argue about some very strange things compared to other people. So I decided to come up with a list, and looking back at the blog has revealed lots of evidence too..

The gender of God - Robbie is convinced that God is male, rather formal and definitely C of E, my understanding of God is considerably different. If Robbie gets too pompous about it I tell him that God is female and he loses it completely!   Sunday Morning Musings

The merits or otherwise of Ken Livingstone - This subject crops up when Robbie wants to provoke an argument, he knows exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction and it always works. The mere mention of that odious little man sends my blood pressure sky high and totally ruins my day. Red and Green, Not Fit to Be Seen

The fridge - Robbie is the self appointed ruler of the fridge. It has to be set out his way and he even expects me to buy condiments and such like in the correct size to fit in the spaces that he has designated for them. He is destined to be a very disappointed man because I do as I like!
The Fridge Police  Fitting In  King of the Fridge

Supermarket shopping - Supermarket shopping together is a very dangerous activity because it is very likely to lead to arguments. Robbie likes to push the trolley, to organise the trolley so that the items are stacked in the correct manner (according to him), to dictate the size shape and brand of item purchased and to be in complete control of the order the items are put through the checkout. There have been occasions when we have almost come to blows and on several memorable occasions he has danced with fury!  Survival - Against The Odds!

Trains come first - I shouldn't really complain, Robbie has never made any secret of the fact that he lives, breathes and sleeps trains, but there are occasions when it would be really nice if he could put me first just for a few minutes. In Disgrace Again 

Waking me up  - I really wish that I could make him understand how annoying it is to be woken up. He may be able to go to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, but if he wakes me up it takes me ages to get back to sleep. Of all the things that we argue about I find this the most hurtful because it is so thoughtless.  Tiredness Can Kill


What to wear - Robbie is so conventional in some ways, but when it comes to clothes he is unique, in fact I sometimes wonder about his sanity. The clothes he wears are a bit like him, loud, startling and a bit crazy - need I say more! I believe passionately in freedom of choice - my freedom to choose not to go out with him looking like that!! Human Rights


Hoarding - Both of us are hoarders, we both hoard different things for different reasons and it often leads to conflict. I have written countless posts about Robbie and his love of clutter, so it seems only fair to link to posts that explain what I hoard and why. Confessions of a Hoarder  Parting with Memories

Being tactless - Robbie has an unfortunate habit of speaking his thoughts and it can get him into big trouble at times Questions Questions 

Lack of awareness - Robbie is very lovable, but he has a complete lack of awareness of the way that his actions impact on those around him - mostly me!
Give Him an Inch and He Takes a Mile! 


The Location of the North - This is a matter of fierce debate. Having grown up in Northamptonshire I know that the North starts at Watford Gap but Robbie grew up in Staffordshire and he gets extremely annoyed when I say that he is from the north. We have a similar debate about the Midlands, Robbie thinks that the Midlands means Birmingham, but I keep telling him that Northamptonshire is classed as East Midlands while the whole area around Birmingham is the West Midlands. If yo really want a reaction from Robbie tell him that he has a Birmingham accent - and then run very fast!! I cant tell the difference but he insists that his Walsall accent is completely different.


Burial or Cremation - This is something that we will never agree about. When the time comes I want to be cremated because I think it is cleaner and more responsible, but Robbie wants to be planted. If he really annoys me I tell him that he will have to make sure he outlives me if he wants to get his own way, but he knows that if it came to it I would of course respect his wishes.

Some of these things are fairly trivial but some we could almost fight to the death over. Maybe that is why the blog is so useful, it helps me to get it out of my system without harming him! Some people say it is healthy to argue, it is better than not communicating at all and it is fun making up afterwards!

How Did He Do That?

Why do the men in my family have so much problem with their clothes and why does it always have to involve me. On Friday morning Robbie was not wearing his suit (because it was dress down Friday), so when I spotted his suit trousers on the bedroom floor, I escorted them to the laundry basket. A little later I was downstairs wondering why Robbie hadn't left yet when I heard what sounded like an entire army galloping around upstairs, after a series of loud manoeuvres a read faced and breathless Robbie thundered down the stairs clutching a Roy Cropper style shopping bag containing his suit. Apparently I had made him late by hiding his trousers and made him miss his bus so I had to give him a lift to the station. He had a meeting during the day so he needed his suit for the meeting and I had creased his trousers. According to him he had not hung them on the floor, he had draped them near the television in full view so that he didn't forget them!

I may have inadvertently hidden his trousers, but I am fairly useful when it comes to sewing buttons on and general mending, both Robbie and Sam get themselves into some very odd scrapes with their clothes. When we were on holiday Robbie managed to catch his stomach on a door handle and tear his new shirt, it took ages to mend it. How on earth does anyone catch their stomach on the door handle, I can understand how you could scrape your arm or perhaps even rip your pocket, but he must have been walking sideways to catch his stomach on the door handle!

A Blind Eye

Robbie and I are different in many ways, he is louder than me in every sense, this is most obvious when it comes to clothes. I know what I like and I know what suits me and I tend to stick within my comfort zone, this doesn't usually involve loud colours and patterns. Anyone who knows Robbie will know that he is the exact opposite, he likes colour and he loves patterns, the bigger and bolder the better. It annoys me when Robbie tries to tell me what to wear, especially when he starts to offer advice on underwear. When it comes to fashion advice he is more Homer Simpson than Gok Wan!

I really try to live and let live, but it takes a super human effort not to comment on some of his more challenging fashion statements. This morning he headed off to work wearing a shirt that almost stopped me in my tracks. He must have had a whole shop to choose from so I can't understand why he chose that one. It is difficult to describe but he looked as if going to an audition for the Wurzels! I'm not going to change him so it is just a question of of perfecting a 'blind eye'. I am short sighted so when I take my contact lenses I don't see the detail, that makes him a little easier on the eye!

Absolute Trust?

Robbie has gone to Ireland for a week and I am enjoying the peace and quiet. We are going on holiday at the weekend, we leave in the early hours of Saturday morning and if all goes to plan he will be home on Friday evening so he has left me to do his packing. That is either very brave or totally stupid - for the first time ever he will find himself wearing the things I want him to wear! Of course there is some doubt about him making it home on time to go on holiday, if he gets delayed I will go without him!

A Cheerful Chap?

Would the person who has stolen Robbie and left me with Victor Meldrew please send the real Robbie back, it really isn't funny any more! The day started well, Robbie had been agitating to go to Norwich, so today we got up early and headed to North Walsham to catch the train. The problem started just as we were leaving, he went to the fridge to get the can of coke that he'd chilled over night and he found that Sam had taken it earlier in the morning. I let him rant for several miles, but when he showed no sign of getting things in proportion I had my say. I reminded him that we had two cases of cans and it had been selfish of him to only chill one, if he had chilled several he and Sam could both have one. I also reminded him that we haven't yet become so anal that that we have to put labels on things in the fridge proclaiming ownership of various items. A family should be able to share!

It seems that just as Popeye needs his spinach, Robbie is incapable of functioning without a cold can of coke, he was still bleating about it when we got to Norwich. He seemed to lack enthusiasm for anything, he just stood outside the shops looking sullen. I thought that suggesting lunch at Subway would cheer him up, but it just made him even more impossible, so after lunch I decided that enough was enough and I dropped him off for a couple of hours at the 'man crèche' – otherwise known as Marks and Spencer!

Sam and I did more looking than buying, but 3 t-shirts and a decidedly dodgy tie seemed to cheer Robbie up no end. We went to Costa for a coffee and he managed to be almost civil, and a foray into Smiths and Quicksilver cheered him up even more. Unfortunately my happiness factor was set to plummet. Robbie led us back to the station at such a brisk trot and I had to run to keep up, then when we finally got the train it was full and standing with people spilling out onto the platform and bikes blocking the aisles. We squeezed on to train but it was swarming with unaccompanied youngsters behaving like brats. The train was dirty, disgusting and smelly, when a disabled person in a wheelchair wanted to use the train it was a total fiasco and it was quite obvious that the train was unsuitable for use on that line. The train crawled most of the way to North Walsham and I can honestly say it was my most unpleasant train journey ever. If this is the best National Express can manage they should hang their heads in shame and leave the railways to those who can do a better job. If we go back to Norwich next week, it will be by car rather than by train.

Robbie is a more cheerful chap this evening, lets hope he can keep it up!

Why Does He Do That?

This morning as I was sitting on the bed drinking my tea I watched Robbie getting dressed. It wasn't his body that I found so fascinating, it was the method. I have always known that he has the shower process organised and timed to the last second. Not only can he tell you what order the 'bits' have to be washed in, but he has also timed each action and he knows exactly how many squirts of shower gel are required, needless to say he also dries himself 'by numbers' too!

When he gets dressed the socks come first, he has a very special relationship with his socks, they are like an extension of his personality - loud and annoying! It is the next bit that fascinates me, why would anyone put their tie on before their shirt? I was still pondering that as he put his trousers on, and I reminded him to fasten his zip. He put things right but then he went on to explain that he would never go out with his zip undone because when he stands on the pavement next to the drive he always checks that 'all is secure'. It is true, I have told him off for doing it many times, and he always stands on exactly the same spot to do it. Why would anyone do that in public, when it could be checked in private before leaving the house!

Conclusive Evidence

Robbie still says that his behaviour provides no evidence of aspie traits, so he has challenged me to make a list.

He counts the stairs, he used to do it out loud until I teased him about it, now he does it quietly but I can still see his lips moving as he counts.

He acts as if he is the 'fridge police' if I shop and put new food away in the fridge he has to empty the whole thing and pack it again when he gets home. Robbie's Random Ramblings: The Fridge Police

He has a full scale tantrum if I buy the wrong size or shape tomato sauce bottle because it doesn't fit his plan for where things go in the fridge. Robbie's Random Ramblings: Fitting In

Even more irritating is his habit of leaving post it notes on items in the fridge, it makes me furious. Robbie's Random Ramblings: King of the Fridge

When we go shopping he he is a total control freak, he has to be the one to push the trolley, he has to pack the trolley and when we get to the checkout the food has to be packed his way (which as far as I'm concerned is not the best way). Usually by the time we get to the checkout I am too exhausted to argue and I just let him get on with it. Robbie's Random Ramblings: Survival - Against The Odds! 14.06.07

Robbie is very possessive about 'his seat' at home and he even gets upset if someone sits on 'his seat' on the train. I fact he will run and force his way to the front to make sure that he gets on the train in time to get 'his seat'.

The clothes he wears are a bit like him, loud, startling and a bit crazy - need I say more!
Robbie's" Random Ramblings: Human Rights

Robbie is very lovable, but he has a complete lack of awareness of the way that his actions impact on those around him - mostly me!
Robbie's Random Ramblings: Tiredness Can Kill 19.04.07
Robbie's Random Ramblings: Give Him an Inch and He Takes a Mile!

I could talk forever about his obsession with trains and all things related to the railways, but I think everyone already knows that he lives, breathes and sleeps railways.
Robbie's Random Ramblings: Withdrawal Symptoms
Robbie's Random Ramblings: Obsessions 24.01.08

When it comes to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time Robbie is in a class of his own!
Robbie's Random Ramblings: The Moment Was Lost 07.01.01

In the end, it doesn't matter, I love Robbie just the way he is.