It's all Greek to me!

Remember the days of the old schoolyard - Cat Stevens

2012-01-29T19:39:00.000Z

Glory Of Love - Peter Cetera With Lyrics

2012-01-17T23:37:00.000Z

Fiddler's Dram - Day trip to Bangor 1980

2012-01-14T22:39:00.000Z

[日本語字幕] Kan Mi Youn(간미연) feat.서준 - Good Love

2011-12-21T20:41:00.000Z

Beyoncé - Love On Top

2011-11-27T15:33:00.000Z

Dog vs. Cat: The Cute-Off - Mongrels - Series 2, Episode 3 - BBC Three

2011-11-21T21:10:00.000Z

The Overtones - Second Last Chance (Official Video)

2011-11-20T00:12:00.000Z

The Well Defended Goldfish - Mongrels - Series 2 Episode 1 - BBC Three

2011-11-12T21:36:00.000Z

Swing Out Sister - Breakout

2011-11-07T22:24:00.000Z

Steps - One For Sorrow - [Official Video]

2011-10-16T21:17:00.000Z

SORAYA - LA DOLCE VITA

2011-10-16T15:03:00.000Z

Zia (지아) _ Hope it's you With K.Will MV

2011-09-23T09:47:00.000Z

Avalon - We Are The Reason

2011-09-15T22:38:00.000Z

New Weetabix Chocolate Spoonsize Advert

2011-09-13T21:10:00.000Z

Nigella Kitchen Best Bits (Comedy mash-up of clips from the series)

2011-09-03T18:03:00.000Z

Another Time, Another Place - Engelbert Humperdinck

2011-08-28T15:40:00.000Z

IU _ Good Day _ MV

2011-08-23T08:00:00.000Z

IU | Seulong (2AM) - Nagging [Eng Sub|RomHangul+DL] (아이유),(슬옹) TEASER

2011-08-11T22:25:00.000Z

Amy Grant - Stay for a While

2011-07-31T13:15:00.001Z

Alex Gaudino ft Kelly Rowland 'What A Feeling' (Official Video) OUT NOW

2011-06-08T06:57:00.000Z

HD EUROVISION 2011 ICELAND - SJONNI'S FRIENDS - COMING HOME (1ST SEMI-FI...

2011-05-16T15:47:00.000Z

Sanna Nielsen - I'm In Love (Live Melodifestivalen 2011) Swedish Eurovision

2011-04-29T07:06:00.000Z

Breakin' 2 Electric Boogaloo (1984) Carol lynn townes - Believe in the b...

2011-04-29T07:00:00.000Z

Heaven On Earth ~ Angels Wing {Seaside Mix}

2011-04-11T21:36:00.000Z

Rumer - Goodbye Girl [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

2011-04-03T17:40:00.000Z

St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)

2011-03-26T11:00:00.000Z

We all stand together

2011-01-17T23:02:00.000Z

Matt Monro - More

2011-01-17T19:47:00.000Z

David Soul - Silver Lady

2011-01-14T08:01:00.000Z

Quincy Jones feat. Patti Austin - Betcha' Wouldn't Hurt Me

2011-01-09T20:54:00.000Z

TAVARES only one i need to love

2010-12-26T22:41:00.000Z

Michael Wycoff - Looking Up To You [Extended Remix]

2010-12-26T22:39:00.000Z

Didnt We Almost Win It All Laura Branigan

2010-12-01T10:02:00.000Z

TAVARES - DON'T TAKE AWAY THE MUSIC-

2010-10-31T19:09:00.000Z

Koita Ti Ekanes / Nikos Ganos (HQ - Official Videoclip 2010)

2010-10-16T20:07:00.000Z

Michael W Smith - I Will be here for You (original music vid) HQ

2010-10-04T20:04:00.000Z

The New Seekers - I get a little sentimental ( 21/2/74 )

2010-07-14T08:45:00.001Z

Mum's the word

2010-07-06T20:24:00.002Z

On her sons Tai Chi class:
"Do they tell you about not having your living room sofa backing onto the front window?"

On hearing a ringing noise down at the local cemetery:
"I tell you, they've buried one with their mobile telephone."

Love

2010-02-16T19:46:00.000Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is9xHR11E3A

The Best of Mum's the Word

2009-09-26T18:13:00.003Z

On local properties for sale:
"It has a lovely sweeping garden and at least four bedrooms. The man that used to live there died in the bath."

On her granddaughter:
"She does edge on the common side"

On the Greek relatives:
"They were all travelling down to Cheltenham this weekend as they thought your father was going to pass away. They'll be so disappointed when they find out that they have had a wasted journey."

To the woman librarian:
"Gosh, you've been working here for years and you seem to look younger and younger. Did you get divorced?"To the shop assistant in the cake shop:"Can you tell me how many prawns are in this one?"

On the couple walking on the other side of the road (at full volume):
"Oh look, there's Mr and Mrs Fotheringham. Hasn't she got a good bust? Don't you think?"

To her overweight goth neighbour:
"Oh hello. I've not seen you pass my window in ages. You're like a ship in full sail."

To her optician during a sight test:
"W....O.....J.....E...erm....they have got smaller. Can I ask my son what the letters are?"

On fragrance:
"I won’t bother putting on any spray. I can see you’re wearing enough perfume for both of us"

Sending me her early morning answer phone message:
"Just to say that I'm going into town on the early bus. I will come straight back as I'm not feeling too well. I may faint......... Just so you know..."

On the man she sees through her net curtains:
"Look at that man across the road with his bottom coming out of his trousers"

On thwarting past admirers:
"That widower took me to his car. When we were sat in, he put his hand on my leg and said - 'You do realize my dear that I have a great deal of money'. "

On getting her GP's diagnosis:
"I said to him ARTHRITIS! Don't be RIDICULOUS. Have you even read my notes?"

Hand-written sign on front door to Jehovah's Witnesses, Avon ladies and trade cold callers:
"If there is no answer, I'm dead."

To my dad when she is sat trying to chat to her visitors:
"Oh do shut up Michael. You're supposed to be dead anyway"

To an Asian nurse in the hospital ward:
"Oh hello, aren't you a pretty girl. How long have you been over here in England?"

To the lady in the local dry cleaners:
"Well I don't want them saying at my funeral that I had unstarched napkins"

On the woman next door with the loud voice:
"You'd think she'd get a job in Tesco working on the Tannoy"

On the answer phone:
"You said to only ring if it was an emergency. Well I won't bother you but it's just that I've run out of Youth Dew by Estee Lauder"

On that fit bloke:
"He had one of those ‘look at me’ T-shirts on"

On suffering:
"You go and enjoy yourselves. I’ve got my candle and a bit of cheese left. You have a nice time. Don’t worry about me being here all on my own, I’m used to it after all these years."

On the widow at No.57:
"So she buys ready done roast potatoes? She wants to have a think about doing real ones. Maybe if she spent less time in her garden and more in the kitchen her husband would still be around. Who am I to judge?"

On passenger seat navigation:
"You know me. I’m flexible either way. I would have done the town route but honestly it’s you’re choice. Who am I to say? You do what you think is best. Of course via the one way system is quicker but you know best."

On couture:
Neighbour: "The thing is I’ve never been that interested in clothes or interior design."Mum: "Well I can see that’s true."

On shopping for house wares:
"I suppose you like that one do you? I thought that one would appeal to you. It’s got that mass-market, trashy feel."

On counter-service banking:
" Only clean bank notes please"On her shampoo & set"Well my current hairdresser did my roots but kept leaving me to speak on one of those mobile telephones. I shan’t go again. I’ll make do with washing up liquid."

On how to make an appointment at the vets:
"So you say because Tabitha’s vet is still on holiday, she’ll have to see the other woman that is like a man? My Tabitha doesn’t want that thermometer up her bottom either. Well you wouldn’t like it, would you?"

On her TV digibox (relating on telephone):
"Well I can’t work out what it is on at the moment. I had it covered over with a throw but when my son comes to visit he normally finds out how to switch it on. It’s on one of those Sky box things that was brought here. Those men connected it last summer with dirty boots on my carpet. I don’t know if it’s a film or a play but there are elves jumping up and down in front of what seems to be the moon. Oh and now there’s that woman from that other thing loading up a washing machine. I much prefer the wireless to be honest. This colour television on a funny channel seems to be all adverts and American people. I can honestly say, the only thing I saw I liked since it was brought in was my granddaughters wedding on one of those VD things and I don’t know how we ever managed that."

A letter to my dad...

2009-09-26T18:05:00.001Z

You know I can’t do grief on demand. When you finally went, I could breathe out again and think of all the fun and amusing things. Those two stifling years at the end were and still are unreal to me. I need to stick with thoughts of your prime, the others will have to do their whaling and tears. My mind won’t let me register your passing, it was only a bit of admin isn’t it? Let me pretend you’re still there in the way I knew you.

In that hospital I watched mum plump up your pillows. Your face shone in ecstasy as your princess was with you.Could you feel me squeezing your hand? We never easily expressed emotion with each other but did you go knowing how dearly I loved you? Mum verbalised her usual trivia yet she only spoke these filler words to break our silence so full of dread and late regrets. You looked at us with complete knowing, a wisdom that transcended time and your present weak physical being.

I was overcome with the new vision of you that I could not fathom. I fled to that day room and wept in front of a home makeover programme so you would not see my belly cry. As visiting time cruelly ticked on, I knew our reluctant performance would be ending soon. We were three cast members amongst a hateful script that we knew was written to lead your last show.

Mum walked you along the tubular corridor. A bleak walk, absurdly short so we’d have to summon up mental images of green lush scenery, a Cotswold breeze and hilltop views. We’d superimpose these coloured fantasies over the hospital notice boards, disinfectant smell and grimy windows overlooking the air conditioning pipes.

Remember when we all stood in front of the electric sliding door exit? You, the child, pleaded to come with us instead of turning back to grey suffocating walls of nothing. You wanted to come back and rest in Mum’s lavender duvet of dreams. The other side of the door had air and more life, I wanted to escape, you did too. In your mind you were well and would be planning a country excursion for my mum, a barbecue or perhaps a wedding celebration.

As mum walked you back to the ward, I sat on a plastic chair and stared along the long corridor tunnel. My eye vision at the back of you both, framed by the sharp tunnel perspective of the corridor to the horizon. I will not forget the corridor scene dad. It looked like a mum leading a little Greek boy in pyjamas back to his bed. You clung to her with your short, shrunken frame walking further and further away from my view. An inseparable romance, yet you, a frightened lost boy being guided back to bed by his Disney angel.

We all knew what was to come. Life as you wanted it had become impossible. The struggle needed to end. Two years on, I still can’t grasp that you’ve really gone. You are part of me every day and can’t be taken. Dad, I can’t keep going to that cemetery, as I just don’t feel you are there. We’ll be together when I head into your part of the town OK? I’ll feel you near me at the car boot sale, at any barbershop, down the Cotswold lanes and feeling the sun on your Greek Island. I want to forget visiting time and remember your character, your accent, your gestures, your phrases, your way.

Mum's the word

2009-07-16T18:02:00.002Z

On what could happen:
"I will worry about you going to Birmingham for the day. What will you do if someone runs up to you and snatches your glasses from your face?"

Post war listed buildings

2008-10-14T21:01:00.002Z

In their day, Art Deco buildings were loathed and hastily demolished, yet today, the remaining gems are restored with fondness. Should we learn from the hasty mistakes of the past and preserve Britain’s concrete monsters of the 60s and 70s? Post war listing applications are very complex to obtain but many buildings are now getting a second chance at a new life with public funding and English Heritage. These buildings were supposed to represent a futuristic vision but are now decaying in despair and disrepair.

In Listed on BBC Radio 4, Lucinda Lambton reported on the struggle of the Twentieth Century Society to preserve examples of 20th-century architecture which are now in danger of demolition. She began her investigation in Birmingham, where the city council wants to pull down the Central Library, and also looked at the Society's attempts to save a the Civic Centre in Plymouth. I’m asking you! Should we preserve the legacy of our retro concrete jungles or say goodbye to this depressing and drab era of architecture?

My heart will go on (not Titanic)

2008-09-30T08:42:00.003Z

Thanks to my loved ones, Boston Scientific and an amazing specialist, I'm still here to see what's next...

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2NqhE9IhzZ4

13 reasons why it shouldn’t happen on a coach journey

2008-08-08T20:56:00.019Z

Instead of the air-conditioned double decker featured on the advert, a licensed 1960’s coach rattles in to the station to pick up three times as many passengers as there are seats.

The last you see of your holdall is when it is thrown by the sweaty driver in a temper to the back of the boot where it will either sit crushed by everyone else’s or alternatively be snatched whilst you are unaware on-board at the next stop.

Queuing is only for the weakest as you have to join a rugby scrum of confusion to get on-board. After the scrum at least ten angry passengers have to get off and have their luggage identified and unloaded. All claim to have no booking whatsoever whilst shouting that they didn’t realise they needed a ticket because no one told them one was required to travel.

The cast of The Jeremy Kyle Show seated in row seven, decide that the driver must stop at McDonalds three minutes into the journey as someone’s Auntie has left their mobile phone at the counter.

You don’t get to read any of your book or listen to your newly loaded music player because the overweight lady next to you spilling out over both armrests tells you all about her angina and clinical depression.

Three female members of a Blackpool Hen party openly drink Special Brew and alight a cigarette oblivious to the rules or driver intervention.

The family on row seven get louder, lairy and bored throwing Monster Munch at passengers they think won’t complain.

There is no risk of getting settled because you learn that you will shortly have to disembark and unload then reload your own luggage at Preston as well as your scheduled connection stop at Birmingham.

Whilst we’re on about ‘that’ connection, there is a very unlikely probability that you will make the optimistic connection slot anyway judging by the gridlock on the M6.

The man in front of you eats smelly chicken tikka submarine rolls noisily whilst the screaming child behind, intentionally kicks the back of your seat for the first hour.

Just when you think you can’t endure any more, a baby starts to cry.

Your legs go dead as you have as much legroom and personal space as Houdini.

You vow never to suffer all this again, yet National Express is so cheap compared to National Rail.

Why we should do away with tipping

2008-08-01T09:37:00.004Z

One sure thing that would go in my Room 101 alongside liquorice, horse racing and cryptic puzzles would be the act of tipping. Etiquette varies from one country to another. How many awkward taxi trips and restaurant visits have we had as a nation? With the steep tariff of taxis, surely we are already paying for the service and why do restaurant chains decide to split my tip with staff I’ve never even met? Many employers are under no legal obligation to even pass on the tip. When I do tip great service or believe that the gesture of tipping is deserved, then I want my own waiter/ess to keep it for themselves.

When I worked in notoriously low salaried retail, no one tipped me yet we are expected to tip hard up restaurant staff, hotel maids and now it seems, my binmen Keith and Jim want some of my wallet action . With some restaurants cunningly double charging gratuities and our nation feeling uneasy about how much to give, surely it’s time for these empty gestures to go. It is unacceptable in my opinion that waiting staff have been known to come back to diners at the end of their meal to inform me that they haven’t been tipped enough. This had happened to me abroad when I reluctantly tipped the standard 10% for what was in fact, painfully slow and disappointing service. We’ve all been there. The staff mutters abuse and look like they’ll spit at you on the way out. It’s unpleasant, spoils the atmosphere and is embarrassing in front of other diners. Now there’s a great reason to just hike the overall price and say goodbye to the archaic annoyance of tipping.

Everything available all of the time

2008-06-22T09:43:00.010Z

I nearly wrote about this subject a year ago but now Ian McMillan has written a perfect column about it in The Guardian. I’d like to echo his mourning about the loss of sensual anticipation for children and adults when it comes to comics, magazines and newspapers. I would hastily add music and television to the list of sensory pleasures that are now instantly accessible, cheap and throwaway. He used to await Beano, Dandy, Victor and Valiant comics, I used to eagerly await the freshly printed new Buster, Hoot and Smash Hits to arrive at my newsagents on a Wednesday. My neck would crane out of the front window to await the postman deliver my quarterly fan club newsletter.

Fame was only on BBC1 once a week and the stomach wrenching anticipation for the opening credits was overwhelmingly exciting in our non-video recorder equipped early 80s household. DVD box sets, digital channels and Internet TV can immediately deliver future episodes of a TV show in most cases.

Kids no longer get excited about waiting for ‘school’s out Saturday’ to arrive so they can go on a bus and race to pick out a Top 10 single with their pocket money from Woolworths. They can have the track from cyberspace NOW, all the time 24/7 for a few pennies. Where’s the fun in that? Saturday morning cinema clubs used to attract a coach of excited local families. That real highlight of a weekend has gone as kids can now watch scores of American animated imports and movies on-demand from their bed thanks to the remote control. Cyberspace and digital TV gives us all more choice but as Ian McMillan points out, every time we buy a hard copy paper or magazine, something makes us still ‘participate in a timeless ritual’ that recreates ‘pause for effect’ and the excited tension that is delicious anticipation.

I’m still going to still sort through boxes of old LP’s for 50p in my local charity shop. I could find the rare picture sleeve gatefold in seconds on ebay but how much more exciting is it to stumble across it by chance? The bus journey will be worth it alone for the anticipation factor fix.

Nightscape

2008-06-12T19:46:00.005Z

Black Country Night by Robert Perry
(Now showing at Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery)
This piece actually reminded me of a remembered view from Burnley suburbia on a wintry New Years Eve. I love being perched high up, viewing twinkling urban 'nightscapes' in a peaceful breeze. Thinking, resting, thanking, taking stock and remembering.
http://www.robertperry-artist.co.uk/

Heart in motion

2008-05-26T08:58:00.003Z

"Life is a curving road of surprises."
I have followed Amy Grant career and life since her 1991 crossover hit Baby Baby. Her exhilarating and captivating new book Mosaic is an inspirational read that vividly celebrates life, faith and precious memories. She reflects upon the events, relatives, friends and conversations that rocked and moved her patchwork of life so far. We can all take different insights away from the legacy of this book like giving ‘gifts’ to make each day purposeful and knowing that we need not be troubled or be afraid. Here are my favourites...

This, too, shall pass:
Nothing is wasted in life. Grief and pain enlarge our capacity for compassion and perseverance.

True Love:
I studied his profile…I tried to find the words to communicate my wonder in being fully understood by a man.
Finally he said with a smile, "Amy, I love you but I can’t say I always a understand you. What I can say is that I welcome you. I welcome you, and whatever you bring to the table is enough."
I thought, better still.

I will remember you:
Frederick Buechner’s words on remembering
"For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost."
Just because a life is cut short doesn’t mean it can’t provide a lifetime of impact for those still living.

Experience: I discovered I had a big heart

2008-04-13T22:30:00.004Z

The first time I noticed a change was at the start of a pleasurable walk on holiday. My partner and me were revisiting a country park on the breathtaking western coast peninsular of Cyprus. I remember lagging behind from the very start of our walk and was shocked of why my body felt so fatigued. I stopped to catch my breath as if I’d just run a marathon. I felt self-assured that I didn’t have heat stroke at such an early stage in our holiday. Over the next few days we managed to enjoy our favourite towns and relaxation yet lying flat on my hotel bed I experienced the oddest noise in my throat. I described it as a rustling noise on exhaling, a noise bit like the crackling fizzy sweets that kids used to sizzle on their tongue in the Eighties.

Back in the UK, life went back up to full speed and I threw myself back into the daily routine of my job. On the first weekend back I attempted a gentle jog around my local park and was again shocked that just twenty seconds in, my body had its brakes on and I was gasping at the end of my road like I’d been running for an hour. The next five weeks consisted of a persistent cough, lack of sleep, breathlessness and I could barely finish my sentences on the phone as I was conducting my busy PR job down the telephone.

I was turned away from A&E twice and two GP appointments blamed a lingering chest infection. At one stage I was also told to use an inhaler for Asthma until a different GP wondered if I should have an X-ray to check for Tuberculosis. The morning the results came back was both surreal and frightening. Being told one day that I was fine and to stop wasting hospital time then being told that if there was a time to consider immediate private medical care, today was it. The GP told me bluntly that the X-ray showed a grossly enlarged heart.

Later on thanks to my boss, a local heart specialist told me I would be going into hospital within the hour. He diagnosed a condition I had not heard of called Dilated Cardiomyopathy where one side of the heart has failed so the remaining side is struggling to compensate. It seems ridiculous but all I could think of were how inconvenient that would be and if we could book something for next week when I’d sorted work and my cats out. How could any of this be happening? I was slim, didn’t smoke, ate healthily, had no family history of heart complaints and was a gym regular. My bloods, lifestyle factors and angiogram proved I was a fit healthy 29 year old so I’ll never know why this happened except the possibility of a random virus that can attack any heart and just leave. I did a lot of crying in hospital and because I’d never been, I shyly sat on the side of my bed in disbelief.

Thus began a terrifying journey of three hospitalisations, severe medication side effects, two heart transplant assessments, panic attacks and my most upsetting symptom of constant suffocation and breathlessness. My heart rate was way too fast and needed to slow down if I was gong to survive this. Life as I knew it abruptly stopped, relationships and finances were harshly tested and no one was able to give me the answer to what I most wanted to know. How long did I have left?

I’d gone from my previous lifestyle at the gym, a busy PR career and climbing mountains on holiday to not being able to walk to the end of my road without spluttering or a walking stick. I’d not sleep for an entire week because I couldn’t breathe lying down and I’d fearfully shout "I can’t do this. I just can’t." I’d be separated too early from my loved ones if I died and that emotion was overwhelming. I wouldn't let on to those around me how bad I felt and found it so hard to ask for help with food shopping and collecting prescriptions. Friends would say to me how well I looked and to cheer up as "you could have got knocked down by a bus tomorrow. " I’d agree but tell them that the difference is that I could see the bus coming. I already knew life was precious but living with heart failure makes you very aware every hour of your own mortality.

It took over two years for my medication to gradually ‘manage’ my symptoms (not cure my heart failure like I’d hoped.) I now try to look upon my condition as an irritation that I can deal with. I can’t bring myself to think about a replacement heart just yet but prefer to monitor stem cell breakthroughs. Some days are strong, others are right off’s but there are less of these trough periods with a sensible approach. Knowing why certain symptoms happen, make them less scary when they occur. Family, work and life now goes on and I want it to for as long as possible. Feeling strong again after feeling so weak makes me want to beat the condition and never go back.

Our local heart nurses and new heart failure groups do an indispensable job in letting me feel reassured and in control of life again. Giving myself that very un-British indulgence of permitted ‘catch up time’ to pace my physical strength is a key recommendation in staying well. I’m still not great at dealing with guilt about my new slower way of living but the pacing is helping keep me alive. Maybe the heart failure helped me discover how good life can actually be when you achieve a proper balance.
http://www.cardiomyopathy.org/

The seven-year-old door-to-door salesman

2008-04-05T17:56:00.013Z

Being seven should be about childhood innocence, camping trips, adventure playgrounds, cheese strings, crazy computer games and climbing trees. Not me. I’m not bitter. Didn’t do it, never went, couldn't afford, never had it. So what did I do when not glued to Saturday Superstore? I admit it. I knocked on doors. Not just one or next door. EVERY door in my suburban road as far as the ash tree on the corner.

I say every door, I mean every door except No.58. The scary man with the eye patch lived there so I’m not totally mad, come off it. He must have watched this fat kid knock on every door and then see me scurry past his house each time without knocking. I wonder if he now has an inferiority complex?I knocked on doors while all the other kids went out to play. Children have a precious lack of inhibition or nerve and just accept what is presented to them. With no shyness or barriers, I would quite confidently, try out all the doorbells and knockers in the road to see who was in, enquire what these 'grown adults' were all doing and ask if they wanted to play.

Some days were better than others. No 46 had just opened a box of Maltesers in front of Crossroads so that was well timed. I got to see peoples bathrooms, lounges, gardens, budgerigars and even gate crashed a garden barbecue in full swing that was most agreeable. It was also fun to see what my house, bedroom window and patio looked like from two gardens up.

One particular day, my half sister had given me a garish purple pad of paper from her hair salon. It must have been a receipt pad listing shampoo and sets, perms and waves with prices. This exciting new pad was a new reason for me to go out with gusto (like a wired Avon lady on commission) and recruit neighbours that wanted to play hairdressers."We don’t have children my love, we're 70", they’d say."That’s okay. I do like the colour of your front door. Is that banana custard I can see on your table?"

Karen Carpenter's second life

2008-03-31T20:16:00.006Z

The Carpenters. What’s not to like? If there’s anything to get a Carpenters fan hot under the collar it’s that unreleased solo album. With Richard on sabbatical in 1979, rather than taking a much needed rest, Karen took the plunge and set about cutting an album with producer Phil Ramone. The story behind this album is so loaded because this album was an important assertion of independence from Karen. She wasn’t deserting Richard, she could always come back to the Carpenters, fresh and invigorated. Karen felt it vital that the family gave her their blessing. Many wondered if that album’s success might have helped her with her demons. We’ll never know.

A&M, mutually with Karen, shelved the album in early 1980. This must have been an almighty blow to the emotionally and physically fragile singer. Various reasons were given of not enough obvious hits, a poor selection of submitted songs available, Karen being told to sing too much of a high key, and some angry accusations from Richard that Phil Ramone copied the Carpenters trademark sound.

The silence was deafening as the tape was delivered and played back at A&M. "She was expecting them to come up and hug her after every track," Ramone says. "But they just sat there." A&M wouldn't budge on a release. Herb Alpert says she vacillated between loving the album and hating it, but the Ramone camp doesn't buy this. "This wasn't a woman given to tears," Ramone says. "When she was upset, she just wouldn't eat. But when we got out of that meeting and far enough away, she just crumpled in my arms."

For years many wondered and were excited by these unreleased cuts. The album sat in A&M vaults and various tracks were released from 1989 onwards but all this did was tease the world about this curious album. Richard must have got fed with mountains of hate mail and pleading, so the album was quietly released in the autumn of 1996 with little fanfare. Everyone wondered amongst wild rumours, just what would Karen sound like away from syrupy home ground singing under another producer and arranger? We all loved her voice with Richard’s perfect arrangements but how different could it be?

The result: A tour de force of lost pop history. A more ‘grown-up’ and ‘hip’ Karen singing about attraction, adult relationships a hint of sex and yes – even a DISCO track. The innocent angel was able to put down her halo for a while. Her voice takes flight on many tracks where you really believe that she’d come up for air and enjoyed this excursion on her own. A catalogue number was raised for the album and glamorous photos were taken for the artwork. "Look at me," she said to her friend. "I'm pretty. I'm really pretty."

No one was dissing Richard or the family. Great artists need time out to experiment and discover other things. Karen loved and was excited by the album that took a year to make with Ramone in New York. She wanted everyone to love it, especially Richard. It is such a shame the album was shelved and that she is not around to enjoy her enduring popularity today.

Karen made a call to her friend in February 1983 just two days before she passed on. "Can I use the f word? It’s a f****** great album!"
You said it supersister.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWNMu8hr3BI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3xFT2c_QJQ

Tea bags and other money saving tips

2008-02-10T20:22:00.000Z

Just to set the record straight, no I don't have a problem sitting in a restaurant, cafe or hotel and requesting a cup of hot water. Why would I pay upwards of £1.50 for something I can bring from home in my bag? Whether it be mint, ginger, Whittard's Christmas blend or my favourite Yorkshire Tea, I always have a little sachet in my bag. I do always try and buy something from the menu to nibble on as a gesture, enabling me to patronise the establishment guilt free. If the waitress snarls at you for just ordering a cup of hot water or insists on charging you for it, just tell her that it is required so you can swallow vital medication. If this doesn't work, tell her that you have just expired.

Go on, make your savings today! (PS: Sometimes previous diners also leave their newspapers and periodicals on the table, so always check before purchasing your own.)

Mum goes to the dentist

2008-01-24T13:33:00.000Z

Mum insisted on accompanying me for the second time to the dentist. Sat in the waiting room, she told everyone (including the dentist and his receptionist) her own unique dental happiness tips. "I'm nearly 77 and I've been told my teeth are really strong. I keep them white using Hydrogen Peroxide bleach and gargle with water containing those fizzy Steradent denture tablets. They come up nicely every time."

The Guardian: 24th Sept 2007

2007-09-25T13:14:00.000Z

Click to read...

My Tales of the Unexpected - Part 1

2007-09-20T08:59:00.000Z

Aquarians like myself, are naturally drawn to all things eccentric and spiritual which is why, over the years, I have been to a small handful of tarot readings, psychic nights and clairvoyants. Many of these excursions to Madame La La have been more about a curiosity and entertainment value than getting answers to what has gone and is about to happen. "Cross my palm with silver, young man." Jake pauses as he stares at the gaudy frame on the wall of a tanned Lionel Blair posing with Madame La La. " Oh I see! You want my £10 note."

My sister also lent me a compendium of Doris Stokes autobiographies which were really good reads. Doris, rest her soul, was convinced that when we all pop off to 'that place' we all get to be with the people we loved and want to be with, look visually as we were at our peak and do things we most liked to do in our earthy lives. Apparently in one of her trances, Doris dropped in one day to that magical cloud and met a lady called Gladys that had recently passed. In her life Gladys had absolutely adored housework. Doris assured her living grandchildren down on planet earth to be rest assured, that she was up there, happy as anything, dusting away and uncabling the Hoover.

Back in my London days, I finished my busy publishing job and jumped on a train that headed somewhere near Hampton Court. I arrived in suburbia and had an hour's reading, complete with cassette, just in case I wanted to make a mental note of special lottery numbers, prominent names of my future acquaintances and lucky colours. The door opened revealing a heavily beaded, new age, British woman who looked more Glastonbury hippie than Madame La La. She shrieked to her 10 year old daughter who was hastily lighting incense sticks in their open plan kitchen. Suddenly in the voice of Eddie Monsoon from Absolutely Fabulous, "Darling! Sweetie! Have you seen mummy's bindi?" I do remember one thing from the reading. This recent divorcee thought that a special god had sent her this 'gift' so she could continue in lifes journey and support her and her daughter because clients like me kept phoning, booking a session with her from the Yellow Pages. How true she was. Another £35 then.

Gill, a work colleague of mine picked up a flyer for a pub night that advertised TUESDAY: PSYCHIC NIGHT. She had been to the same event a few weeks prior at another local venue and thought it would be up my street and that I could even get 'healed'. When we arrived, I thought we had come to the wrong room as, (I say this phrase nicely), a 'family' were queuing noisily, rustling crisps, bleeping mobile phones and smoking. They just weren't the typical psychic audience. They took their seats in the back row whilst Gill and I sat, observing a hastily arranged tombola table and 'Jim' an elderly healer who looked like he should have been flogging furniture at a car boot sale. It also turned out later that this chavesque 'family' got a message from 'the other side' referring to an old mattress dumped outside their front door and one son that needs watching who is extremely 'special'.

I was open minded, up for a night of mysticism, messages and healing powers. I didn't have to be scared as I had no one over 'the other side' and the room was not at all scary because for the first 15 minutes on came flushed Trevor. He was our perspiring warm up act, murdering three songs from the musicals and a Pavarotti number along to a suspicious backing track. afterwards he told us how he had 'the gift' and that had let him tour working men's clubs nationwide. (Yes, even as far as West Yorkshire and darker parts of Preston.)

I decided to give Jim the healer, a miss when it was announced that funds donated to his services would be going to 'local' charities. He had nodded off at this point anyway. On came the first medium who looked more like a TV game show host than a psychic. Gill nudged me after half an hour as she had noticed that much of 'the audience' getting messages were spookily the same audience that she sat with at the previous show. There were many entertaining parts of the evening when the second act approached a middle aged couple with a dog in the second row. With closed eyes and microphone in hand, the waistcoated psychic spoke,

"I'm getting something. I feel it here. Hello my darlings. Feeling lots of love. Yes I feel a very strong sense of happiness here. Yes they are resting. I'm getting it. I'm getting it. Paws. Walks. Four legs. Yes! I get a sense that this lovely couple here like dogs. OK, I'll be back to this side of the room if anything else comes through. Does anyone in the room recognize the name Brian?"

The best revelation of the night came to a young couple in the front row. The female psychic stood in front of them with her eyes shut pleading with the other voices from 'the other side' to stop being naughty and let her channel herself to the message from this particular set of relatives. She spoke to the couple in the audience holding her head as if she needed a paracetamol.

"Shut up Brian! Shut up! Not now Brian. Ok. Does their name begin with a C my darlings? Charles. Clarence. Clive? C. C. I'm getting a C. Not to worry it might come clearer in a minute. Do you know anyone on the other side with a name beginning with C?"

The couple said, "Erm. We've got a sister called Charlotte but she 'ent dead yet."

The psychic excitedly replied " Charlotte! ah ha! That's just the other side getting your attention. OK well they have a message for you and are sending out lots of love to you and your family."

The couple looked miffed said "erm OK"

"Yes. I'm really taken aback by feelings of love and life which are making me feel quite tearful. (Grabs a dramatic Kleenex) My darlings, I feel that in the next 12-18 months you will be making a decision. You are at a crossroads and you will choose to go left or right. The decision you make my lovelys will be the best one. I feel it. Does anyone in the room recognize the name Brian? Are you all sure? Well that's all for now, if you've not had a message then please come to our next event in Gloucester, tickets cost £20." Perhaps Brian will turn up then...

Next time in My Tales of the Unexpected Part 2: Jake's gypsy tarot reading on Blackpool Pier.

Stained Glass captions - episode 4

2007-08-27T09:49:00.000Z

"Enough is enough. Someone phone that Rick Stein on his mobile and tell him we can't seem to catch any scampi."

Mum's the Word - 6

2007-08-13T07:52:00.000Z

Sending me her early morning answerphone message:
"Just to say that I'm going into town on the early bus. I will come straight back as I'm not feeling too well. I may faint......... Just so you know..."

On the man she sees through her net curtains:
"Look at that man across the road with his bottom coming out of his trousers"

On thwarting past admirers:
"That widower took me to his car. When we were sat in, he put his hand on my leg and said - 'You do realize my dear that I have a great deal of money'. "

Stained Glass Captions - episode 3

2007-07-24T22:11:00.000Z

"Oh how ghastly Benjamin! You didn't really let down the tyres of the Abbot's 4 by 4 did you?"

Granny Fanny

2007-07-08T20:40:00.000Z

I discovered Fanny Cradock one day while surfing over the food channel UKTV Food and they screened the seventies BBC series Fanny Cradock Cooks for Christmas. If ever there was a drag queen cookery show this was it, yet whatever the retro comedy value, in 1975 this was for real. Intimidating Fanny often presented in full caked make-up and evening gown, her target audience being aspirational middle-class housewives who wanted to impress their husbands boss. Acidic bossiness was usually evident in her barked-out instructions to her shaking assistants. (They often nearly dropped utensils and baking sheets because of their nerves) Her abrasive snobbery pro French cuisine and hints on being thrifty during the recession are very entertaining.

Fanny's career nosedived in the late seventies due to her not being able to hold her tongue during an Esther Rantzen show where she managed to push a farmer's wife to tears who had won a TV cookery challenge. Let's just say, her menu was not criticised tactfully. Fanny's critics these days laugh at her gaudy use of chemical food colourings for that all-important touch of the exotic. Mashed potato dyed green adorned a roast chicken, blue hard-boiled eggs and green icing made Fanny's party food rather psychedelic. BBC4 dramatised her life last year in the superb screenplay Fear of Fanny. Many still believe Fanny's downfall in public opinion was undeserved believing that the sharp tongue was all an act. She felt passionately that there was a right and a wrong way with cooking and probably would have hated Gordon Ramsay and Nigella Lawson with daggers. Her most memorable line for me was when she showed viewers how to prick your Christmas bird. She told us to think of someone "we've never really liked" and give the bird a good stab all over.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1fIj6_lDZ8

Desiderata

2007-06-22T21:02:00.000Z

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.
(Thanks also to Scott on Myspace.com)

Stained Glass Captions - episode 2

2007-06-20T08:28:00.000Z

"Just ignore her, she always does this at mealtimes. She says she's depressed about her natural curl."

Stained Glass Captions - New Series

2007-06-18T15:27:00.000Z

"Look son, don't worry about losing the self assembly instructions from B&Q. Just carry on pretending that this is fitting together. I have one I made earlier in the garage."

Picture perfect

2007-06-15T20:12:00.000Z

I was actually asked to babysit last week for Josie, Ollie and Sam. Very tiring and stressful as children are not at all like cats. However, between Nickelodeon and discussing how everyone "really should start to think about going upstairs", a few magical moments occurred where some creative drawing took place at the dining room table. Sam created a cartoon scene that shows myself (looking older than my years of course) with a very croissant shaped looking Tibbles. How marvellous!

Mum's the Word - 5

2007-06-14T15:25:00.000Z

On local properties for sale:
"It has a lovely sweeping garden and at least four bedrooms. The man that used to live there died in the bath."

To the woman librarian:
"Gosh, you've been working here for years and you seem to look younger and younger. Did you get divorced?"

To the shop assistant in the cake shop:
"Can you tell me how many prawns are in this one?"

On the couple walking on the other side of the road (at full volume):
"Oh look, there's Mr and Mrs Fotheringham. Hasn't she got a good bust? Don't you think?"

To her overweight goth neighbour:
"Oh hello. I've not seen you pass my window in ages. You're like a ship in full sail."

To her optician during a sight test:
"W....O.....J.....E...erm....they have got smaller. Can I ask my son what the letters are?"

Nightwalker

2007-05-27T21:08:00.000Z

Since I was about 10, I have always been fascinated with nighttime walks in suburbia. Those quiet evenings especially in the winter months, where everyone is at home and rural suburbia becomes still and quiet. The weather can be frosty, foggy or raining with howling wind. I very rarely pass anyone unless they are walking a dog but mainly my night walks are an hour of stillness, quiet thought, bracing exercise and fresh air that smells of the night.

Not many people venture out on foot at night in suburbia and there are many routes to vary and try. Roads and housing estates that you have no need to go to by day suddenly become by night, a secret trail of magical cul-de-sacs and undiscovered exploration. Playing fields and hill views with lights that twinkle under the moon. The parade of nocturnal cats about to begin their nighttime plans. Garages, driveways, chimneys, gardens and tomorrows empty milk bottles become the stage set of suburbia by night.

As I pass, I see the warm glow of windows that show families sitting and watching a flickering TV screen, the evening dinner plates being washed up at the kitchen sink and also those stark lit rooms that show the residents are well overdue for a spring clean or update. The best walks are at Christmas where you can endlessly tour a free show of decorations and festive trees. Log fires and the magic of Christmas make these walks a feast for the senses. Forget going out far or just staying in. Wrap up, take an umbrella and enjoy your suburbia tonight. Let your imagination free and take in the sights. Return home refreshed and then get all toasty and snug. Goodnight.

Mum's the Word - 4

2007-05-26T19:51:00.000Z

On the Greek relatives:
"They were all travelling down to Cheltenham this weekend as they thought your father was going to pass away. They'll be so disappointed when they find out that they have had a wasted journey."

On getting her GP's diagnosis:
"I said to him ARTHRITIS! Don't be RIDICULOUS. Have you even read my notes?"

Hand-written sign on front door to Jehovah's Witnesses, Avon ladies and trade cold callers:
"If there is no answer, I'm dead."

Cleeve Hill, Stanway, Weston and Forest of Dean

2007-05-12T14:13:00.000Z

Most people that know me understand what a big fan of walking I am. (Yes, I said walking.) Gloucestershire residents must never undervalue how lucky we are to have what most tourists think of as 'paradise' on our very own doorstep. I include walks when I am well enough to keep my heart going. I believe it is partly that and the country air that has kept me having these strong periods since knowing about my heart issue. On my walks I can get more exercise than some gym sessions and the scenery and wildlife to be seen is often more beautiful than you or I anticipate.

Like many, I love trees, so the vast Forest of Dean is a regular choice. My favourite places to walk are Cleeve Hill and Stanway, since knowing these places as a child. A great seafront walk, complete with a distinct seaside smell, has to be the windy stretch of Weston-Super-Mare (stopping for fish and chips on the pier!) A new walk I have recently re-discovered is alongside the River Severn and the everyday boat life at Sharpness Marina. On a clear day you can see white desert-like sand and both Severn bridges. My favourite walks outside the UK have to be any of the remote walks off the Shannon-Erne waterway in Ireland where the greenest grass collides with Celtic romance. The staggering natural beauty, turquoise sea views and country parks on the western coast of Cyprus are also very precious.

It's frustrating to have days, sometimes a week, when I just can't walk or talk much through breathlessness or tiredness. I get so guilty and stressed when family and friends feel that I'm ignoring them. Some days I do just have to hide in my room, try to listen to music, write, read, think, worry, but mostly sleep. It's all part of my journey with this heart condition. I need those times so I can get strong again and give 100% when I'm next out and about, 'working', 'doing' and 'living'. It is a need rather than a solitary indulgence. If I do pop off early, I have specifically requested a handful of rural benches with plaques on. For Stanway, Ireland and Cleeve Hill. Inscribed perhaps with, "Jake had opinions from here" or even better "Jake loved the peaceful view and ate a bar of chocolate after his long walk from here". Maybe not yet, I don't want to go yet you see.

Mum's the Word - 3

2007-05-04T20:42:00.001Z

To my dad when she is sat trying to chat to her visitors:

"Oh do shut up Michael. You're supposed to be dead anyway"

To an Asian nurse in the hospital ward:

"Oh hello, aren't you a pretty girl. How long have you been over here in England?"

To the lady in the local dry cleaners:

"Well I don't want them saying at my funeral that I had unstarched napkins"

On the woman next door with the loud voice:

"You'd think she'd get a job in Tesco working on the Tannoy"

On the answer phone:

"You said to only ring if it was an emergency. Well I won't bother you but it's just that I've run out of Youth Dew by Estee Lauder"

Kindered Spirits

2007-04-26T18:37:00.000Z

I realise that I'm a sensitive old thing but the moving (and award-winning) Canadian mini series Anne of Green Gables is essential viewing. Watching Anne and Gilbert when I was little was the most touching introduction for me to what romance and love was all about. There are now three parts to the trilogy that begin with Anne Shirley the orphan, finding Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert on Prince Edward Island, Canada. The scenery is beautiful, the soundtrack is a real tear jerker and the story is something that stays with you forever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29f4z5P1PIA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFhZGSCJ4Hg&mode=related&search=

The electric blanket and missing false teeth

2007-04-15T17:46:00.000Z

I write these two capers, just as my precious dad is on his way out of this life. My dad was Cheltenham's friendly Greek-Cypriot barber in the days when you could still get a haircut and shave for 50p. Born in 1928, dad isn't someone I'd say I knew closely but now know very much that he loves me and was in his prime, a charming, generous soul who would always be respected by anyone he met.

As with mum, there are myriad gems and tales of dad so to begin with, here are two short farces that are actually fairly recent. Both involve dad's 'friend' Betty. Now, dad never fell out of love with my mother but they dramatically divorced each other twice. Childhood was never dull. Dad adores mum but in later years, shared a companionship and occasionally his apartment with Betty from Coventry. I call her dad's friend. My mother calls her 'that prostitute from the fairground' but that's her take on things!

Betty was always good fun and only fairly loopy in her later years. It was always fun visiting dad for an Indian Curry from the restaurant next door. We sat with her as she watched Emmerdale on the TV. Every time an advert came on with a tune, she'd bolt up and say "Oohh err. That's Riverdance that is." When the soaps stopped she'd perk up at the display cabinet and say "Isn't that a lovely vase!" or "My granddaughter's got the most beautiful eyes ya know" and "You two boys courtin' then?"

She was fantastic company for dad and filled an important void left from the second divorce. Mum and dad were great buddies apart but when married to each other, things never worked out. Even mum called herself wife no.2. Wife no.1 is someone else (not Betty) Wouldn't life be simple if we all just cared for one person? Life's not that simple is it?

It was reported to me that one night, dad and Betty went to bed. At 2am they were kept awake by the next door apartment cooking toast. By 3am the toast aroma was getting annoying and I think dad banged on the wall hoping that the tenants would stop snacking and get some sleep. Betty put the light on at 4am to pop to the loo and both of them noticed a hole in the mattress. Singed bedding showed that the bargain electric blanket from the car boot sale, might not have been the best purchase that week.

The second and final tale takes place just outside Limassol in Cyprus. Fate would have it that dad and Betty were holidaying the same time on the island for a month and that even though I was staying in the western part of the island, that we should all meet up for a 'special meal'. We drove in a separate car and followed them for what seemed to be ages, to the mystery location, half expecting to be awkwardly greeted and kissed by hundreds of Greek cousins that we'd never met. Dad drove as usual with complete lack of seat belt, indicators on and took up both sides of the road. We were glad we stuck to our rental car.

When we finally got to the restaurant, we noticed a tenseness between dad and Betty. Maybe a month is too long in that heat. She also didn't have much on her plate. After making polite mundane conversation (The bombing of Coventry, her beautiful granddaughter and Riverdance), we hoped we could get this over with and scoot back to our proper hotel. She was more quiet than normal but we found out what was wrong. "Have some more salad Betty! What about some chicken?" I said. Dad then said bluntly, "We had a sit-yooow-ay-shon. Leave her, she's fine. We left her teeth in Cheltenham. We reeey-all-eyezz on moto-way but we carry on."

Country Life

2007-04-04T18:48:00.000Z

The embers within tonight's fireplace turn to grey
The peat engulfed festive smoke wafts up the chimney breast
I stare out at the torch like globe
No cars, lights or alarms
Just a friendly owl that perches beside on my windowsill
Beyond this farmhouse, a gentle wind dances through the trees
The darkness is magical as the distinct night smell whooshes over my face and up my nose
I sit at my open window and stare wide eyed at this star filled vista
Wrapped within cosy blankets, my secret room full of heirlooms and old volumes
I listen for the idyllic sound of the fields at night
Accompanied only, by the gurgle of the stream up the lane and my breathing

This mossy garden will soon illuminate under tomorrows sunrise
I will witness the morning cockerel and early flight of busy honey bees
I'll walk downstairs, pat the dog and sniff
Fresh eggs, sizzling bacon, mud, the sweet and sour apple orchard and a new days sunshine slowly toasting the hay barn
The farm cat will stretch to welcome in the new day

Country Life is beautiful. The smell. The sight. The sound. Simple things
Memories and the people we love
Breathe it in
Wherever you are

And all because the lady loves Cadbury's Milk Tray

2007-03-29T23:04:00.000Z

Belinda knew her day had finally come. The other girls in the office would be so insanely jealous when they found out. After three years of trying, tonight would be the night that Patrick would share a romantic escapade with her, and by god, she had waited long enough for this day.

She has first set eyes of Patrick that magical day, coming out of the board room. Belinda nearly fainted at the mere sight of this collosal celtic giant of a man. What a catch. Even the assertive way he walked down the corridor, showed he was a man of success, masculinity and fierce ambition. From that day to this, every woman in the company wanted him to be theirs. Captain of the work rugby team, jetsetter extraodinaire and highest earner in the department, oh how envious the others would be. Oh damn it if he's had a whole string of beautiful lovers, Belinda thought. Tonight they would be together and he would violently ravish her until daybreak.

Belinda even loved the way Patrick played hard to get by not returning her calls and acting aloof whenever she entered the works kitchen with a cup-a-soup. She knew she wanted him completely and would also be mother to his many children. She would serve this gorgeous man and give up everything to be with him. Just to wake up beside his beefy torso and powerful thighs, to hear his deep gravelly voice, oh this was what life was all about.

Patrick pulled up still wearing his crisp manly suit that seemed to cling to every muscular curve of his chest, legs and bottom. He pressed the button in his staggeringly expensive car and signalled for Belinda to step inside. Patrick would probably shower Belinda later with priceless jewellery and propose to her beneath the bewitching moonlight. Oh what large powerful hands he has on the gear stick and oh, what huge feet he has on those pedals, Belinda secretly thought.

Ah yes, there would be dinner in some extravagant restaurant, a stolen embrace before dessert and then her whirlwind romance with sparks and physical attraction would commence. He would no doubt, whisk Belinda off to Monte Carlo or Paris to seduce her tonight in a ridiculously expensive hotel. Money would not matter to Patrick as far as Belinda was concerned. He would caress and eat every inch of her body until she screamed. What an evening it was going to be. Belinda would become a lady of leisure and be the wife of this beautiful man. She would be adored by him and live in luxury with houses all over the globe.

She beamed the biggest grin as they rode down the motorway together in his fast car, side by side. He held her hand whilst driving which made her swoon and shudder. Belinda closed her eyes and began to feel physically aroused when just at that second there was the most forceful jolt of brakes. Poor Belinda caught her breath and looked up suddenly, realising her nose was dripping. An old lady in a grey mackintosh and wooley bobble hat, bent over to Belinda and said "Hello deary. Ere, this is the last stop. The bus always terminates outside Wilkinson's. Don't forget your shopping and brolly love. It's pissing it down out there". Belinda wearily reached down to lift her Tesco carrier bag of microwave meals and Cadbury's Milk Tray, then stepped off the bus and right back into her life.

Picture perfect

2007-03-28T12:11:00.000Z

I first discovered the world of Paul Horton, when I stumbled upon a small art gallery on a crisp winter's morning in Burnley. Acclaimed as a 'modern day Lowry', his work continues to evoke poignant feelings of home, warmth and safety. The pictures seem to emit a nostalgic Northern feel of brass bands, walking home, magic, friendship and love. I don't know much about art but I feel emotionally connected to many of his pastel based works. Check out his new and past collections at http://www.paulhorton.co.uk

Barry

2007-03-25T07:29:00.000Z

Barry the Quiche began his day full of excitement
And so there he lay,
Would it be a deli or supermarket shelf?
Who can indeed say?
Free range and crispy,
Smooth centred and cheesy,
Just what today bring? Barry did say

A bright superstore,
A chilled cabinet divine,
How much will my hungry owner pay?
Waiting and waiting,
Looking keen, looking fresh,
How much longer will I wait for her today?

The vegetarians frown on me,
For the pink ham pieces under my skin,
The children run past me,
For the spicy pizzas always get to win.
When will it be my turn I say?
Even the reduced pasty beside me, will surely escape the bin.

The lunchtime rush is over,
The kids are finishing school,
Do I really seem that bad? Barry said
Trying not to lose his cool.
Wasn’t I baked to perfection? Can’t I make someone smile?
Barry led alone, staring tearfully down the aisle.

Just then he awoke,
Startled and ruffled,
Could this be, my 'use by' day up in smoke?
A young girl skipped over to Barry,
Bubbly, pretty and carefree,
Would she maybe consider something tasty like me for tea?

"Mummy! Mummy!", she shrieked with glee,
"Please do let me put him in the basket"
With baked beans and mash, what a delightful feast there’ll be.
So off they all went, smiling and contented,
To an idyllic cosy cottage by the sea,
Who’d have thought, how relieved and happy Barry would eventually be?

Tale of the chintz

2007-03-11T19:24:00.000Z

My mother (The Hyacinth Bouquet of Bishops Cleeve), has always been a houseproud old soul. She has many energetic phases decluttering, yet has an opposing passion for hoarding display cabinets of glassware, ornaments and plates. Mum always leaves me answerphone messages declaring 'I just can't cope' and that the offending old chintz and once cherished bric-a-brac is finally sent to the charity resting places either in our car or in those doorstep collection sacks. She is always relieved after another load motors down the road, that she can be left again with a spic and span vaguely 'minimalist' living room. Thing is, she then gets ideas about how she can then fill the vacant space with more pretty glassware or vases.

Last Thursday after we shifted another half dozen boxes to the charity shop, she reported to me that dad had been on one of his visits. Dad always arrives with some well meaning present or another whether it be from the car boot sale or charity shops. His sweet Greek accent has always spoken the phrases to mum throughout my life 'I bring for you my darling' or 'I buy. You like?'

He always chooses items that he thinks are to my mother's taste and never arrives without a gift gesture of Mediterranean romance to woo her. (I hope woo stays in our language, it's such a dramatic term.) Well, apparently last Thursday he arrived with an assortment of treasures from either PDSA, Salvation Army or YMCA (He visits them all). He proudly unveiled the items and mum commented that they were curiously similar to the vases and silver plates she used to have recently. Bless them I say. Recycling your unwanted chintz, only for them to be transported back into the very same living room must be a very clever new charity initiative.

I'm sorry, I don't really work here

2007-03-02T22:40:00.000Z

My blue fleece is warm and cosy but shopping in Gap and Tesco has become something of a nightmare of late. I get approached with queries you see. Maybe it's the way I stand? Maybe it's how I handle the stock? Maybe I look like I'm in charge. Whatever it is, I keep saying, "I'm awfully sorry. Thing is, I don't actually work here." What's amusing is, even when I tell them I'm not the one they want, they still give me a disgruntled look like you just gave them shoddy customer service by not assisting. Only in England!

Henrietta

2007-02-25T22:25:00.000Z

Sad Henrietta Thwaite, eldest of three,
sleepily arranged her green lettuces in wicker baskets
for the whole village to see.

The most award-winning greengrocer in the land
spent her long days making towers of fruit and vegetables galore.
Only the most fragrant and perky flowers would pass her hand.

The vicar, schoolchildren, local mothers and various old dears,
filled their bags aplenty,
avoiding limp supermarket produce that causes so many tears.

Year by year, day by day,
lonely Henrietta worked her hardest.
Even a rogue caterpillar noticed her weary dismay

The relentless crinkle and rustle of the paper brown bag,
weighing scales, mutant potatoes and then pumpkins at Halloween.
Henrietta peeked over her till with shock, when up pulled a big silver Jag.

The handsome driver commanded "Take off your apron. Your time has come".
"What exotic fruits you’ll soon see".
"You’ve only won the jackpot lottery. That’s what you’ve done!

Mum's the Word - Part 2

2007-02-19T21:25:00.000Z

On that fit bloke
"He had one of those ‘look at me’ T-shirts on"

On suffering
"You go and enjoy yourselves. I’ve got my candle and a bit of cheese left. You have a nice time. Don’t worry about me being here all on my own, I’m used to it after all these years."

On the widow at No.57
"So she buys ready done roast potatoes? She wants to have a think about doing real ones. Maybe if she spent less time in her garden and more in the kitchen her husband would still be around. Who am I to judge?"

On passenger seat navigation
"You know me. I’m flexible either way. I would have done the town route but honestly it’s you’re choice. Who am I to say? You do what you think is best. Of course via the one way system is quicker but you know best."

On ageing
Neighbour: "The thing is I’ve never been that interested in clothes or interior design."
Mum: "Well I can see that’s true."

On shopping for housewares
"I suppose you like that one do you? I thought that one would appeal to you. It’s got that mass-market, trashy feel."

Mum's the Word - Part 1

2007-02-18T21:23:00.000Z

In the first of a regular series, here is my first collection of actual quotes inspired by my mother's showstopping and unique turn of phrase. (They are very Alan Bennett 'esque' if you ask me) Apparently I sound like her I'm told. Enjoy!

On fragrance
"I won’t bother putting on any spray. I can see you’re wearing enough perfume for both of us"

On her granddaughter
"She does edge on the common side"

On counter-service banking
" Only clean bank notes please"

On her shampoo & set
"Well my current hairdresser did my roots but kept leaving me to speak on one of those mobile telephones. I shan’t go again. I’ll make do with washing up liquid."

On how to make an appointment at the vets
"So you say because Tabitha’s vet is still on holiday, she’ll have to see the other woman that is like a man? My Tabitha doesn’t want that thermometer up her bottom either. Well you wouldn’t like it, would you?"

On her TV digibox (relating on telephone)
"Well I can’t work out what it is on at the moment. I had it covered over with a throw but when my son comes to visit he normally finds out how to switch it on. It’s on one of those Sky box things that was brought here. Those men connected it last summer with dirty boots on my carpet. I don’t know if it’s a film or a play but there are elves jumping up and down in front of what seems to be the moon. Oh and now there’s that woman from that other thing loading up a washing machine. I much prefer the wireless to be honest. This colour television on a funny channel seems to be all adverts and American people. I can honestly say, the only thing I saw I liked since it was brought in was my granddaughters wedding on one of those VD things and I don’t know how we ever managed that."

Big Hearts and Stem Cell Trials

2007-02-17T12:03:00.000Z

Having a big heart makes life fairly scary and tiring but every life experience is now so vivid as I am reminded of my own mortality every day. I always knew life was precious but there is something about seeing 'that bus coming', (whether is does in the end or not) that really shakes you up about grabbing and loving all the gentle, good things from life. If anyone else tells me in a helpful manner 'Cheer up. You could get knocked down by a bus tomorrow', please may I be permitted to walk away calmly ;-)

Things are unusually good for a while, activity and breathing wise, since my last dramatic exit last year with the even more dramatic medical term 'Heart Failure'. I wouldn't object too much to the odd stopover in my local hospital as things go bleep on screen. (Better than ITV1) It's just that hospital radiators do seem to be hotter than the sun and one does miss breathing. Running into the car park naked was my first panic attack fantasy due to heat and being connected to various cables. Maybe I should of? It would have made the Gloucestershire Echo maybe?

I've had wonderful support from my friends, loved ones, GP and the Gloucestershire Heart Nurses. I don't see myself having a transplant but am very excited about this stem cell lark. Check out the following film clip. Sounds dull but far from it. Authoritative and fun. What do you make of it?
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/filmnetwork/A17992317 It's from BBC Film Network. (Great site of free documentaries, comedies etc) Also links below to info on Stem Cell Research trials and Dilated Cardiomyopathy. I'll take another pill. I'm here. I'm grouchy. I interrupt and I'm still getting on your nerves. Fantabulosa!

http://www.heartcellsfoundation.com/index.htm
http://www.cardiomyopathy.org/html/which_card_dcm.htm

Horace and Godfrey

2007-02-17T00:38:00.000Z

You’ll know when you’re near their take away,
The heavenly aroma of salt and vinegar will waft and pull you down the street.
Horace and Godfrey have been master fryers for over ten years now.
Their rosy cheeks and white boaters smile across the counter.
Might you float along and meet them today?

Tastes of the sea, hot and crispy delights for lunch or tea.
Horace and Godfrey will be able to tempt you, you’ll see.
You can choose whatever you fancy,
Cod, haddock, fishcake, pie and chips,
Or why not add a pickled egg or battered sausage?
Might you drift along and meet them today?

The choice is yours.
A savoury hot treat wrapped up in paper,
Horace and Godfrey look forward to seeing you.
Serving up the best fish and chips in the whole county.
Just don’t go on a Tuesday.
Horace and Godfrey shut the shop to play bingo together on a Tuesday …

Heaven Sent

2007-02-13T17:32:00.000Z

Pop pickers amongst us will know that it wasn't so long ago that one could risk it all and buy a mystery batch of 100 records by mail order, ditch the rubbish ones and pray in hope for a gem.

I'm delighted to say that my teenage bedroom in 1992 was suddenly filled with the most optimistic, soulful, slick voices and production that I have ever heard. The group? Husband and wife team Pauly and Joe Ortiz - 'Heaven on Earth.' For your listening pleasure check out the clips, radio montages and CD ordering facility at the following links. Standout tracks: On an Angel's Wing, Nadia and If I Ever Get to Heaven. Peppy and oozing with soul and spirit, it's hard not to smile hearing these gems. Heaven on Earth - I salute you!

http://www.heavenonearth.heavenlymediaservices.com/buy.html
http://www.myspace.com/welcomeheavenonearth

Enid and Edna

2007-02-08T00:18:00.000Z

Enid and Edna should have been the most harmonious of couples.
They'd go everywhere together
but would always end up squabbling over silly little things.

Enid Sprout had a well-rounded and solid character.
Yet she often kept her secret thoughts and feelings locked in under her leaves.
Her lifelong friend Edna Parsnip was very sweet and reliable but could be very stubborn.

They had first met years ago during a Christmas carvery in a Country Inn.
Both agreed then, that friendship was what life was all about.
Yet not every day was to be a happy one.

They would tease, shout and sometimes not speak to each other.
Could this be the Enid and Edna everyone knew were such a close pair?
If only they'd have talked more or been kinder.

Enid would never say how she really felt inside and so all the hurt came out as anger.
Edna would never admit she could sometimes be wrong and often felt scared of so many things.
Why oh why did they get upset so, when love was hiding in them both all the time?

They were so sad until a Winter Ball banquet invitation arrived on a frosty morning.
That evening brought back memories of their first festive meeting.
Suddenly Enid and Edna realised why they fought. Because they both cared so very much...