Showing posts with label old. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 June 2012

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.

Friday, 11 May 2012

In the book of life, the answers aren’t in the back - Charlie Brown


Robbie is a fan of Charlie Brown, he particularly likes Linus. Linus always reminds me of my son, not just because of his attachment to his security blanket, because he is clever, spiritual and a deep thinker. He has his own view of the world and it doesn’t seem to bother him that other people see things differently. I guess there is a bit of Linus in Robbie too, but instead of a security blanket he has a rucksack!

The one thing that both Robbie and my son have in common is that they don’t always understand me. This week has been a bit of an uphill struggle for me, my asthma has been playing me up which makes everything so much more of an effort. It makes me feel scared, struggling to breathe is horrible. It felt as if I was plodding through the week with diving boots on! My son, who probably hasn’t noticed that I have been feeling off colour this week, added to my burden by breaking the habit of a lifetime and delivering all his washing to the washing machine without being asked  - how many clothes does that boy have!! Later on he saw me trying to compare an old photo with the present day image on Street View. He asked what I was doing and I explained that I was trying to work out exactly where the photo had been taken. He was quiet for a minute or two, then he posed a deceptively simple question, “why does history matter?” I think the answer to that could be a blog post all on it’s own, but it gave me plenty to think about.

Robbie did his best to cheer me up, he made me a lovely meal on Wednesday evening. Unfortunately his efforts to cheer me up tonight fell on stony ground. He sat at the side of me with his ipad, he wanted to show me train pictures. I thought it was quite sweet until I realised the grim story behind what he was showing me. He made a hasty retreat to the other side of the room with my words still ringing in his ears!

The only person who knew instantly without being told that I wasn’t feeling very well was my best friend – and we were only speaking on the phone. It made me realise how lucky I am to have her. It is the strangest thing, it was a very odd situation that brought us together and no one would have expected us to become friends because we are very different. I think it surprised us both, but there was an instant connection between us from the very first time we met. It feels as if we have been friends forever.

A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart & can sing it back to you when you've forgotten the words

Friday, 4 May 2012

Simplicity is making the journey of this life with just baggage enough.

For the last few days I have been creating extra pages that in due course will be linked to the blog. I have been looking back at old posts in order to select some favourites. It was a surprisingly emotional experience looking back through time to the start of the blog, I wrote the first post on this blog in November 2006. A lot of water has flowed under a lot of bridges since then. 


Reading those old posts has made me realise a few important things. Perhaps the clearest theme running through the posts is that Robbie gets away with murder at times, especially when it comes to abandoning me in favour of his beloved trains. That is mostly my fault for being too accepting of his odd little ways for too long. Reading those old posts has prompted me to make a big decision about my life and Robbie is not going to like it. It is time to take control, we have to de-clutter!! We have too much junk and it is taking up so much room that it will soon be standing room only! I can live with his obsession with the railway, but 'standing room only' is taking things too far.


We are both 'blessed' with the hoarding gene, but in my case it tends to relate mostly to books and to things that hold special memories for me such a as letters, old birthday cards and things that the children made as they grew up. Robbie just hoards, shoes, ties, books, magazines, pens, notebooks, model trains, vinyl records, cds, Lego minifigures .......... The list is endless, but you get the idea. It is time for both of us to bite the bullet and get rid of a lot of the clutter in our lives. It will take time, but it will make things so much easier and it will give us much more space when it is done. So this weekend we will take the first step, two black sacks each sounds like a reasonable start.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

Light the blue touch paper and ............................RUN!!

Sparks have been flying in our house. A week or so ago Robbie told me that I looked like a trout and when he realised that his words had upset me he tried to make it better by telling me that he didn't mean my whole face, just my mouth! 


He was forgiven eventually but clearly he hadn't learnt his lesson because a couple of days later he ruffled my hair and told me that I had so much grey hair that I must be ancient - has he looked in a mirror recently? I told him that my 'trout features' and my grey hair don't bother me because I don't have to look at them, but since I endure the sight of his imperfections without comment, maybe he could do the same.


I thought he had got the message, but yesterday while we were out on the train he picked up book about railway rover tickets. One minute he was sitting quietly reading, the next minute his voice boomed out across the carriage to inform the world and his wife about how soon I will be entitled to an age related discount. I gave him a withering stare and informed him that he may not survive that long! As if that wasn't enough for one day he got cross with me about something totally unimportant and informed me that I was a "moany, cantankerous old woman". I chose not to reply but when he saw my expression he looked terrified, I wasn't sure if he was going to run away or hide under the table!!The cat gives me a similar look when I catch him raiding the bin!


Believe it or not he had been forgiven by this morning. We popped into the supermarket for a few essentials and as we stood in the queue he very loudly admired the packaging design of some personal products that I did not wish to draw attention to. I gave him 'the look' but instead of shutting up he became more vocal. I fixed him with a glare and told him firmly that it is not necessary for every thought he has to come out through his mouth!!


I hope he has now got the message, but if not I will start sharing some of my thoughts with him - I don't think he will like it!

Thursday, 15 March 2012

I'm not 40, I'm eighteen with 22 years experience - Author Unknown

Today is the day! The big 40 has finally caught up with Mr B. It may be his birthday, but it is also a normal working day so we had to get up even earlier than usual to allow Robbie to have a few minutes to open his cards and presents. He had chosen to have money for his birthday, but he had lots of nice presents too. A couple of pairs of cufflinks, aftershave, a retro mug based on the old Ladybird books, Lego minifigures, Lego books, a reproduction of an Eagle Annual, as well as various other bits and bobs. He also had two pairs of Dr Marten Shoes, one pair chosen by him and so hideous that they defy description, the other pair chosen by me and much more sensible. They are red 1461's (made in England!) he seemed to be very pleased with them - and almost as pleased with the Dr Marten carrier bag that they came in!


All too soon it was time for him to get ready for work. It would have been nice to have a long lazy day together, but the 'real world' dictated otherwise. Before long Robbie was dressed in his dark suit with a smart white shirt and his new 'keep calm and carry on' cufflinks. He had stashed his Lego minifigures in his briefcase along with a set of farm themed novelty erasers. I had bought them to remind him of our trips to the Farm Shop and he seemed delighted with them, apparently he used to collect erasers - why does that not surprise me!


He was careful to reassure me that he isn't going to change just because he is 40, I don't think he is very keen on the idea of becoming old and sensible. He needn't worry, according to Jerry M. Wright "The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left." If that is true there is danger of Robbie becoming more mature that any time soon, he still likes his music loud and annoying. 

You can't turn back the clock. But you can wind it up 
again. Bonnie Prudden

Thursday, 24 November 2011

In A Word

Robbie is more into facebook than I am. Being 'old' I only add friends that I know in real life and I don't update my status unless I have something meaningful to say. Robbie on the other hand writes about anything and everything - mostly trains. His almost daily bulletins on the state of the toilets on the London Midland services that he travels on generate considerable debate, only Robbie could cause people to get so passionate about toilets!


On Monday he asked his friends on facebook to describe him in just one word. I found the results very interesting, I think his friends were rather kind to him, but from their choice of words it seems they know him fairly well. Have a look at the diagram and see what you think - by the way it was me who summed him up with the word 'impossible'.

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Flushed with Pride

I understand Robbie fairly well (he doesn't get away with much!) but just occasionally he does something so random that he manages to leave me lost for words. Yesterday he came downstairs proudly carrying my birthday present, it was beautifully wrapped in colourful paper. He was very keen for me to open it and he seemed convinced that he had chosen exactly the right present for me. I opened it to find a boxed toilet roll! What exactly are you supposed to say when presented with a boxed toilet roll? I opened the box hoping that the roll itself would bring me inspiration. The individual sheets had a message printed on them 'Hygiene and cleanliness are essential to robust good health and longevity'. Could it be a subtle way of pointing out that I am getting old? I thought not because Robbie doesn't 'do' subtle, but I spent the rest of the day wondering exactly what it said about our relationship!!   

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

For a Man to Truly Understand Rejection, He Must First Be Ignored By a Cat

I think after recent events Robbie would be delighted to be ignored by our cats. He is the one who usually feeds them so you would think that he would be their favourite person in the world, but cats are fickle. They leave Meg the dog to look adoringly at Robbie while they  give him aggravation  every time he is late feeding them - it serves him right for teaching them to tell the time!! If Robbie does not get up on time Oreo meows outside our bedroom door demanding to be fed, and if Robbie stops off at the bathroom on the way downstairs Oreo head-buts the door demanding instant attention. This usually results in a stream of abuse emanating from the bathroom!


Meg adores Robbie, she has been a good dog, but now she is old, frail and more than a little senile and she does some crazy things sometimes. Robbie had bought a big bag of Starbucks coffee for a friend of ours. He had even had it ground to be used in a cafetiere, but he made a mistake and left it near his chair in the lounge. I came home one morning to find the house smelling like Starbucks and the lounge covered in coffee. It made her violently sick, so when I had cleared up the coffee, I had to clear up after her - thank goodness we don't have carpet! A few days later she stole a bag of flour from the kitchen and trailed flour all through the house, she looked like a ghost - and she almost became one when Robbie saw what she had done! Clearing up flour is harder than it sounds, especially when most of it is on the dog!!


The cats don't like to be outdone and one of them decided to go one step further with some tactical vomiting! Robbie insists on displaying his Dr Martens on the stairs, a pair for almost every step. It was just too tempting, not content with covering the front of his favourite purple boots the fat, furry feline (as Robbie called him) vomited into his blue boots. Guess who had to clean it up - I get all the best jobs!!

Sunday, 24 April 2011

A Man is Not Old Until Regrets Take the Place of Dreams.

On Friday Robbie got onto the subject of Crackerjack (a children's television show), he asked me if I remembered who used to present it. I told him that I didn't watch it (I have never enjoyed game shows) but something at the back of my mind made me think that Eamonn Andrews presented it at one time. Robbie laughed and said I must be confused, he reeled off a couple of other names that meant nothing to me and he was incredulous that I didn't know who they were. He decided to look it up and he found that I was right, in the very early days Crackerjack was indeed presented by Eamonn Andrews, but not at a time when I could have watched it. I don't know how I knew about him being the presenter it must have been one of those pointless fragments of knowledge that we gather over a lifetime.  Robbie informed me that Michael Aspel had presented it for a while in the early 1970s. It did stir vague memories, but when he mentioned someone called Stu Francis I had no idea who he was talking about. When Robbie announced the dates that he presented the show I was forced to point out that I would have left school by then and would not have been watching children's television. This gave him plenty of scope to tease me about being old - he takes a wicked pleasure in making me feel ancient!


Without really meaning to Robbie left me feeling old and past it (whatever 'it' might be). It set me thinking about what old really means. As a child on the rare occasions that I was brave enough to ask my grandma how old she was, she would tell me that she was as old as her tongue and a little bit older than her teeth. I was never brave enough to point out that she was considerably older than her teeth - she had a new and rather wayward set of dentures! My mum (who was 29 when I was born) always claimed to be 23, in fact she remained 23 until she was well into her 50s!! My younger daughter longed to be 18 so that she could be an adult and do all the things she wanted to do. My older daughter who is 22 was furious the other day when she was asked for ID to buy a DVD with a 12 classification! She hates looking younger than her years. 


So it seems to me that most people are not totally happy with their age, that is just the way life is. It is no wonder that I feel old when I have to cope with Robbie and his many and varied moods. You should have seen him today, he had a massive strop because he sat on some bird poo, but thankfully his bad mood didn't last too long. One way or the other life with Robbie is always eventful! Perhaps I have a few (or more) grey hairs, perhaps I am getting old, who cares. John Barrymore said "A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams" I am not ready to give up on my dreams, so by that measure I am still young! 

Friday, 8 October 2010

Who am I?

It is such a long time since I last wrote the blog, It is a very strange time for me just now, lots of changes and new things to adjust to as well as a very busy time work wise, so I am struggling to cope with the blog. It isn't just that I struggle to find time for the blog, it is more about finding the right words, some things are too personal for the blog while other things things just seem to be difficult to put into words, but no doubt I will sort it out in time.


In my last post I wrote about Robbie changing the goal posts when we set out to go to York for lunch and ended up in Manchester instead. Some people seemed surprised that I didn't like his alternative suggestions about places to visit, so perhaps it is time that I wrote a little more about myself to explain the things that I like - and the things I don't like!


One of my favourite poems is Warning by Jenny Joseph, if you don't know the poem you can find it here
http://www.netmender.net/glenna/Purple.htm
I am not sure that I want to do some of the things that she mentioned in her poem, but I am enjoying life and I am definitely getting more reckless in my old age. So be warned, I have already started to wear purple!



I am not a hat person, I never have been. I hate people to touch my hair and as far as I am concerned having to go to the hairdressers is torture. The only hats I have ever possessed are riding hats and crash helmets. I take a large hat size and I can still remember the embarrassment of going to buy a new riding hat and telling the assistant my hat size only to be met with disbelief. It was a rather old fashioned shop with several different departments, rather like Grace Brothers in some ways. When the hat that the assistant had selected perched on my head like a pimple he would sigh as if I was doing it on purpose and we would go through the ordeal of trying on a succession of hats in ascending sizes. Finally we would find a hat that fitted and the assistant would grudgingly admit that I was absolutely right about my hat size!
So for me the mere mention of hats evokes feelings of discomfort, humiliation and messed up hair - I hate hats!


I love history, art, poetry and all sorts of other thing and I am passionate about books, I love bookshops of all kinds, but to me second hand bookshops are best of all. I could happily spend a whole day in a bookshop. One of my favourite place to visit is the National portrait gallery, but I loved visiting the National Railway Museum and I am really keen to go back there again.

Wednesday, 2 September 2009

Happy Birthday Sebastian

I just wanted to say Happy 18th Birthday to Seb, I hope you have a good day and I really hope you like the present. Suddenly I feel very old, three of our children are over 18 now!

Sam was really funny when he was writing Seb's card, I wanted him to put more than his usual 'Sam' on the card so I told him to put 'love from....' He gave me a defiant look and said "Mum, he is having a birthday, not coming out!"

Friday, 28 August 2009

People Who Don't Know Where They Are Going......

I have mentioned before that for many years I had a poster on my office wall that said 'People who don't know where they are going usually end up somewhere else'. It seems that Robbie is living proof that the poster is correct, he went to a meeting earlier this week, but he hadn't checked the venue and he found that he was in the wrong place! Fortunately he wasn't too far away and he was able to get to his meeting, but he has suffered a bit of teasing about it. I hope these little slips don't happen more often now that he is officially 'old'. No, he hasn't had a birthday, but his son Seb, will be 18 next week and that makes Robbie feel very old!

Thursday, 29 January 2009

Feeling Old!

I am feeling especially old this week because it is Emily's birthday on Saturday, she will be 20! I really don't know where all the time has gone. She has asked to be given money for her birthday, bit I have bought her one or two little things to open on the day as well. There is just one problem, I have put one of the things I bought away in a safe place and I can't remember where I put it - possibly another sign of old age! I have to have a serious search today, it is so frustrating.

Tuesday, 29 April 2008

Feeling Old!

I'm feeling old! I keep blaming Robbie for wearing me out, but I think the cold I had last week has exhausted me. I can cope with sniffles and sneezing, bit it made me ache all over and I alternated between feeling shivery and being too hot. The cold has more or less gone but it has left me with an annoying cough and it has started my asthma off, so I am feeling tired and frustrated. Robbie tries his best to say the right thing but he never gets it quite right, he assures me that I'm not old but rather than quitting while he's ahead he always goes on to say 'well not to me anyway' and that gives a completely different message!!

I had one of those 'end of an era' feelings last week. Laura had her last ever lesson at the music centre, she has decided to give up lessons to concentrate on her A Level exams. I have been going to the music centre for so many years that it will seem very strange not to have to go anymore. Laura plays the Saxophone very well and I love listening to her play, but it took her a while to find an instrument that suited her. Emily knew from the beginning that she wanted to play the flute and she went from strength to strength. Laura began with the clarinet, in fact she continued playing the clarinet until last year, but she always longed to play the saxophone. Somehow a music teacher convinced her that she really should play the oboe instead. I remember the oboe phase in excruciating detail, it sounded like a duck being tortured and it coincided with Sam's early adventures on the violin - it was agony! Laura didn't enjoy the oboe and before long she took up the saxophone instead, she must have been playing the Saxophone for about seven years now. All my prayers were answered when Sam gave up the violin in favour of the cornet - a much more tolerable sound! I am not very musical, in fact I am pretty close to being tone deaf, but I know when it is painful and the oboe phase was memorable for all the wrong reasons.

I met my new nephew for the first time on Sunday, he is lovely. They have decided to call him Oliver John, that is quite a relief because my brother wanted to call him Cecil - poor little chap that would have been cruel!

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

Hatched Matched and Despatched 31.10.07

One of my grandmothers used have the local evening paper delivered and the first page that she would turn to was what she referred to as the 'hatched, matched and despatched'. She showed no interest in the 'hatched' and she only gave the 'matched' section a cursory glance, but she seemed to know a surprising number of the 'despatched'. I once asked her why she read it and with a weary smile she told ma that she had to check that she was still alive!

My other, more formidable grandmother expressed the opinion that it 'wasn't quite nice' to put all those fancy words in the newspaper - but it didn't stop her reading them when she thought nobody was looking! Her sister in law Aunt Ada was a family legend, she was a lovely lady, but every time we visited her she would ask if we knew some person or other, a negative reply didn't seem to matter and she would chatter on to tell us in considerable detail about some relative or neighbour of the person we didn't know who had died. Occasionally she would spring the element of surprise and the person was not dead but dying or they had to 'have everything taken away'. Looking back it is hardly surprising that death was never far from Aunt Ada's thoughts. Her husband had been killed in action in the First World War leaving her with three very young children. For her, loss had been a daily reality for most of her adult life.

This week, I found myself thinking that I must be getting old, I don't read the newspaper, but it seems that all too frequently the death of someone I consider important is announced. Only last week I was saddened to hear about the loss of Alan Coren a truly witty man who was one of the few people who could make me laugh out loud. You get some very odd looks when you are driving alone in the car and laughing so much that tears run down your cheeks! Yesterday another untimely death was announced, Professor Anthony Clare who was professor of clinical psychiatry at Trinity College Dublin and responsible for presenting two of the best programmes on Radio 4, In the Psychiatrist's Chair and All in the Mind.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, the subject of today's entry was not influenced in any way by Robbie's 'man flu' Poor old Robbie, he really is struggling this week but hopefully it will not prove terminal!

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!

Saturday, 8 March 2008

Responding to Richard 18.09.2007

In response to my last post Richard wrote
I reckon you must have a bad one 'cos I've had a few Fords in my time and they've all done me proud. I currently drive a three-year old 2.0 ltr Mondeo automatic and it's great. It's my second Ford on the trot; my previous one was a ten-year old Mondeo auto and that, while being a bit long in the tooth, was just as good. Unless it's a Galaxy thing you're suffering from; I've never owned one of those so I can't really comment on them.

Richard you are going to have to send me a photo because over time I have conjured up a rather worrying image of you, and your very odd opinions about cars just reinforce that image. First you stick up for the dreaded Volvo, then you eulogise about the Ford Mondeo! We had a Mondeo a few years ago and I hated it with a passion, in particular I strongly objected to the seat controls, it was without doubt the worse car we ever had - except the Freelander which turned up it's toes within the warranty period! Just to cement this troublesome image in my mind you have said that you drive an automatic - how adventurous! I imagine that you must be nearer 60 than 50 and rather like Martin from Ever Decreasing Circles. Possibly too boring to have had a mid life crisis, but you keep people guessing because there is just a vague possibility that this whole thing is all irony and somewhere beneath that boring facade there is a sense of humour ready to burst out.

Thursday, 21 February 2008

A Cunning Plan 09.06.07

It was Robbie's turn to make me feel old this morning. I had an itch on my back and was directing him to the right spot with 'up a bit, left a bit, down a fraction, fire' and the inevitable reference to the Golden Shot. He claimed that he had never heard of the Golden Shot and asked if it was a ship! How can he possibly have no childhood memories of numerically challenged Anne Aston and the mysterious 'Bernie the Bolt'. OK having checked, I admit that Robbie was only 3 when the last series was screened, I suppose it is a bit much to expect him to remember it!

http://www.nostalgiacentral.com/tv/variety/goldenshot.htm

It turned out that Robbie had a cunning plan. In a devilish strategy worthy of Baldrick he told me about a recent conversation with an acquaintance of his who seems to think that enjoyment can only be achieved by a night on the razzle and is disdainful of people who find more enjoyable ways to fill their free time. We were just pondering on the inevitable consequences of his behaviour - brewers droop, and we agreed that he needed to grow up and find some less anti social interests. Quick as a flash Robbie seized his opportunity and requested a 'day pass' to go to Barrow Hill to the I had to laugh, his planning was incredible. He then lost the plot and gave me a minute by minute account of his proposed travel arrangements (including a time allowance for breakfast!). My interest had waned before he had travelled beyond Wellingborough, honestly, Saturday morning with my husband and we have to have a monologue on the intricacies of train timetables! He gradually became aware of my frustration, maybe the fact that I was ready to batter him gave him a clue! In an attempt to redeem himself he suggested an overnight trip to Newquay. I was quite tempted, but I was mystified by his desire to break the return journey with lunch and shopping in Plymouth. I know Plymouth well but the shops are nothing special and we wouldn't have time to get to the Barbican and back. It didn't make sense until he admitted that it would enable him to travel on a more 'interesting' train back to Birmingham! He's impossible.

Tuesday, 12 February 2008

Happy Birthday Robbie 15.03.07

Happy Birthday Robbie - 35 Today! He is feeling very old this morning, so please be kind to him.

Robbie and Emily went to look at Aston University yesterday. Emily liked the course there, Linguistics and French and she seemed to quite like the university. She has finally made her choices, Leicester as first choice and Aston second, she has declined the others.

I had a report back from one of my researchers concerning the state of Robbie's desk - diabolical! Maybe Virgin needs a clear desk policy!! Obviously his hoarding gene gets him into trouble at work too. I was surprised to hear that other desks in his office were equally bad, I wonder if that is due to his influence on his colleagues or them setting him a bad example!

Tuesday, 8 January 2008

Information Overload 20.01.07

Here is part 2 of Sam's description of Robbie. They are incredibly alike in so many ways, but of course neither of them would admit it!

Robbie is always moaning at me because I am untidy. I am a bit disorganised, but he is untidy too and he never admits it. He puts everything in piles all over the place and he hates throwing things away. He has piles of magazines everywhere and there are trains taking over the house. Just because I don't put my stuff in piles like he does he moans at me for being untidy. Mum moans at him about his magazines sometimes and if she is really cross she calls him 'haemorrhoid man' because of all the piles. That makes me laugh.

Robbie helps me with my computer and he talks mum into letting me do things when she says no. Sometimes we watch films together, he knows quite a lot about films and so do I. When we argue mum gives Robbie that sort of look that tells you are in big trouble and she asks him "Who's the adult?" He isn't always good at being an adult because he says he is a toyboy. I am not sure what one is really. Action man is a toy and male but Robbie isn't like him, I don't think Robbie likes action stuff and I don't think Action Man knows about trains. The other boy toy is Barbie's boyfriend Ken and he looks a bit gay, mum says that Robbie has a gay walk sometimes but he is not like Ken. Mum told me that Robbie says he is a toyboy to make her feel old, he doesn't need to bother because I make her feel old anyway, she is always telling me that.

Robbie takes me on train journeys, I like that, but I don't see the point in writing down numbers and things like he does. I just like being comfortable on the train with my laptop. We do have lots of things in common. I have to learn not to make people bored by going on and on about Superman and films and stuff. Sometimes mum pretends to go to sleep when I am talking to her. If we ask Robbie about trains we get information overload and mum has to tell Robbie to stop talking because she is losing the will to live. Sometimes when she asks him a question she says she only wants the brief version, but he is not very good at being brief.