Stars in my Eyes................

Regardless of any skills we may or may not have, most of us think there is ONE GREAT TALENT hidden inside our souls.

Some of us think we could write a best selling novel.

Some of us think we could wow Simon Cowell with our rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".

Me?

Oh, that's easy - I was BORN TO DANCE.

(Okay, stop laughing at me you lot - it's MY vision!)

Yes - I know I'm in my 50's

Yes - I know I have problems with my joints and wake up so stiff that it takes me 30 minutes , 2 cups of coffee, and 2 painkillers before I can get out of bed.

We're not talking reality here - we're talking Dreams and Imagination. (Of which I have bucketloads!)

As a little girl I wanted to be ....................................

A Bluebell Girl

or a .................

Can-Can Dancer

or better yet,...........................

one of the Tiller Girls at the London Palladium!

When I was a child, Len was our local greengrocer. He made his deliveries by horse and cart.

Three times a week Len and a German lady who worked for him, would ride round our streets selling fruit and vegetables, most of which they grew themselves on a nearby small-holding.

They were such characters! Sadly, Len and his wife could have no children themselves - but they loved kids and made time to chat to us and give us toffee apples and the like.

Not hard to believe, but I was a real chatterbox. Len always asked me what I'd been up to and never tired of my endless tales of what I'd done.

Everytime I finished my nattering he would say,

"What a long tail our cat's got!"

(I always laughed loudly, even though I didn't understand it. Then again, neither did the German lady who was with him!)

One day, I was aged about 4, the conversation went something like this.............

Len: Now then, young Susie. What have you been up to?

Me: Mummy has been teaching me to skip with my skipping rope.

Len: Did yer Mum do it first to show you how?

Me: Yes, Uncle Len. She did.

Len: I thought so. I see the council are laying new pavements!

We all laughed. (Mum could never be described as 'skinny')

Len: Skipping, eh? That'll make you fit.

Me: I hope so. When I grow up I'm going to be a dancer on Sunday Night at the London Palladium.

Len: Are you really? You need really long legs for that.

Me: I have look here!

I lifted my dress and bent over

Me: See! They go right from my shoes - straight up to my bum!

As if the memory of the embarrassment wasn't enough, years later the German lady became my Mother-in-Law!

And Baby Makes Three, or Four, or even More!...........

Hello my dear sweet bloggeroos.

Before launching into my notions and observations on Family Planning, I would like to say that I was very touched by your kind comments on my previous post about my dear Mumsie. She is a great support to our family and also to her friends.

She is both loving and generous. She has never lost sight of the little girl inside her, and finds pleasure in the simple things.

Mumsie didn't have an easy childhood; her father was a strict Captain in the Salvation Army dying when she was only 13. Nanna went on to do a marvellous job of raising 7 children alone.

As you may have seen in my previous posts, Mum can also be a bit naughty and so very funny.

I'm pleased that I am able to convey her specialness and that you enjoyed reading about her.

(Oooooh, my eyes are leaking a bit here!)

Righty-o then - tissues down - Tena Lady at the ready?

Today, I thought I would tackle the delights of Family Planning..............

I have thoroughly researched the various methods for my dear readers, (nothing is too much trouble for you Sweet Darlings of mine!)

I must say, I was surprised at how much things have changed since I was still young enough to worry about such things.

Some things have changed a lot...................................

For instance:

"Jumping-up-and-down," and "100 jumps over your skipping rope" are no longer considered a reliable method, fancy that!

Such a well loved method of birth control right up to the early 1970's!

Then, of course, there's the Rhythm Method, so popular with many Roman Catholics. (Many, many, many Catholics, apparently!)

Although I never understood quite how this worked.

After you set this thing going, what next?

The Rhythm Method is also called your Safe Period, not to be confused with..................

The VERY Safe Period - The time in the day when a housewife invites in the tradesmen whilst hubby is out at work all day!

One change that I was pleased about was the Diaphragm

Yer see, we always referred to this as a "Dutch Cap".........................

and I always wondered where the pointy bit was supposed to go!

I was also pleased about changes with the "Coil"

The modern version gives none of the problems of the old metal coils.

They're now made of Plastic! Tsk, well - you live and learn!

Condoms...............................

Apart from preventing pregnancy, they also protect you from disease.

Unfortunately, they don't protect you from idiots!

A more recent addition to our list of choices is "The Cup".

I don't know much about this, but I think it's a lovely idea.........................................

I quite like this one!

(Does one keep hold of the handle?)

Next up is the Pill............

So many pills to pick from - I always chose the ones that were the best colour match to my shoes.

Once your family is complete, you may suggest to your other half that he has a vasectomy...

Some men don't fancy the "Snip". If he's reluctant, convince him by sticking this pic over your bed!

I hope you have found this post informative.

If you still can't decide on the right method for you, you can always pop in here.......

Or, if all else fails....................

Don't forget to pop by to Dollytub Cottage soon!

If you have enjoyed this post, you might also like these previous ones if you missed them.

You can read them by clicking on the links here:

Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou - A Guide for the Modern Woman on Dating

What's in my Bag - An in-depth look into my handbag,

and don't forget to read these useful household hints and tips here..............

A Stitch in Time and Don't Forget Your Oats

When Words are Not Enough!

My Mum absolutely adores children, and we all had a lovely childhood.

I have one brother and one sister.

Les is 5 years older than me, and Mandy is 5 years younger.

I've not written a humorous post today, but I hope you'll enjoy it, nevertheless.

One of the best things about having a 5 year age gap is, that as pre-schoolers, we all had the benefit of Mumsie's undivided attention all through the day.

When Mandy went to school, Mumsie didn't know what to do with herself! She decided to become a childminder.

In those days, this wasn't regulated the way it is today, and minders were called "Aunties".

Even today, we can be walking round town, and there will be a cry of,

"Cooeee, Aunty Aud!" and one of her charges will run up and give her a hug.

She always found great ways to keep us amused, and never complained if we made a mess.

Mum would make great games to play - she would put up the ironing board on a low height, rifle the pantry for tins of food and play shops. Sometimes she'd throw a blanket over the clothes horse and we played tents!

The garden these days is well tended, with neat lawns and fences. It was a different thing in our childhood; there would chalked out hopscotch and the grass threadbare from all the playing!

We would play skipping - with a "borrowed" bit of clothesline, tied to the fence at one end, Mumsie at the other end, turning the rope for us.

She would always find activities to do. She taught me to sew and knit, and once she made a cardboard 'loom' and taught me to weave.

One of my earliest memories from when I was about 3 years old, is finding some red dead nettles near Daddio's shed. (See pic) I thought they were absolutely beautiful, and picked a handful for Mum.

As all good mummies know, on such occasions, we beam a grateful smile to our offspring, and put such 'treasures' in water in an eggcup.

I would pick some everyday all Summer long each year, right up 'til I started school aged five. Every time, Mum would gush with thanks, and put them in the windowsill.

************

Fast forward through time..................

I got divorced in my late thirties, I really loved my job, but I didn't earn much money. I wanted to buy a house, but I could only get a tiny mortgage. I saw just the right house, quite near Mum and Dad, and close to my sons' school.

It had been repossessed, and needed loads of work, but I put in an offer and was delighted when it was accepted!

That was the good news, the bad news was that it had been rented out to really bad tenants. They'd had three dogs, and the place smelt awful and was filthy!

To give you an idea on the state of the place - it took a whole afternoon for my Aunty Bert (her name's Bertha!), me and Mumsie to clean the kitchen floor. (Did I mention it was filthy!)

Mum and Dad weren't in much of a position to help me financially, but they gave loads of practical help.

All of my family gave tremendous support, but especially Mum.

(Dad, like most men of his generation, happy to put up a few shelves - but doesn't do 'emotion' :O)

A few days after I finally moved in, I wanted to get Mum something special, but couldn't find the right present. Nothing could say what I truly felt.

I was going to my parents for the weekly Saturday Lunch. As I went to get into my car, I spotted some red nettles growing under the hedge. I knew I'd found my present!

I picked a handful, and carefully laid them on the passenger seat.

When I arrived, with my face beaming, I held them out to Mum. She smiled all over her face, and hugged me. As she was putting them in an eggcup, Daddio came into the kitchen, and asked,

"What have you got there, Manageress?" (His pet name for Mum!)

" Never you mind!" she said to him. "I've just got THE best present, but you wouldn't understand."

Then she wiped the corner of her eye on her pinny, and put the 'flowers' in the windowsill.

**************

I'm working on a post for you all about Family Planning, it's one of my hints and tips posts that you like so much, with loads of pics. Don't forget to pop back will you?

If you Need Cheering up - This is Tray Tray Funny!

I'm still trying to finish the decorating in my bedroom. Yes! I know I'm S-L-O-W.

So just for a little while, I'll just be doing little sharp bursts of blogging, but rest assured, I will still try to raise a smile!

When my partner, Liam was alive - he used to cheer me up, doing an impersonation of this guy. See his name below - it's the youtube link.

(And people say I'M crackers!)

If you need to turn a frown upside down into a smile, check out the video below.

The best bit takes a moment, so bear with it!

I'm sure some of you will remember seeing this!

Bob Blackman

More smiles to follow, so don't forget to check back.

P.S. My dear Friend, Tilly is organising a Shabby Chic/Vintage Swap. Why not pop over to join in! Tilly Rose

Only One Hundred and Ninety One Days 'til Christmas!

Throughout the 1990's I worked for our local evening newspaper, firstly in the Promotions Department, then later moving on to Advertising.

Each year the Echo would choose a Charity to support.

It wasn't difficult to find local business sponsors.

For four years running, our local British Gas Showrooms were keen to be involved as the venue for the "Great Christmas Mince Pie Marathon."

Local businesses supplied us with pastry and mincemeat, (many thanks A.W. Curtis and Asda!)

Other businesses lent their support in other ways by sending a team of four bakers to compete in "Bake-Offs throughout the day.

Radio Lincolnshire sent a team and also provided extra news coverage.

Our local Gas Showrooms was situated on a corner in Lincoln High Street.

Each year, a couple of weeks before Christmas, the Marathon would take place in the two huge plate glass window areas, two teams at a time.

Members of the public would stand outside, watch and shout,

"You're rubbish!"

and other such words of encouragement.

There would be two teams at a time, baking Mince Pies in the window areas throughout the day.

Among others, there were...........

The "Sprinklers"

The "Strikers"

The "Luvvies" from the annual Pantomime..........

and.............(if I REALLY bullied them,) some of my colleagues

The "Scoops"

As the mince pies were baked, they were bagged up into sixes and sold inside the Showrooms.

To really get the pies moving and to generate publicity, me and other volunteers in Fancy Dress ran up and down Lincoln High Street selling them 50p a bag.

(Which wasn't cheap in those days!)

One year, a national Gas Appliance company also sent me a volunteer.

He was a lovely bloke, and very happy to pitch in.

He even brought his own Fancy Dress costume.

I don't remember his real name, so I'll just call him "Tony"

I was dressed as one of Santa's Elves! (No pic, what a shame!)

I carried a huge basket of pies. All I was wearing was a red hat with a bell on the end, pixie ears, a pair of green leggings, and a long red t-shirt, (with short sleeves!)

The only pocket I had was on the breast of my t-shirt, so I kept the coins in there and gave out change accordingly.

As people gave me £5 or £10 notes, I stuffed them in my bra for safe keeping.

After a while, I was running out of pies, my bra was becoming VERY uncomfortable, and I was

ffffffffff..................

flippin' freezin' (Remember this was December!)

"Tony" and me ran back to the Showrooms. The bell on my hat tinkling furiously!

The Manager told me where to put the cash for safe keeping.

As I went to put my hand down my bra for the fivers and tenners, I realised that I could not accomplish this task on my own.

My fingers wouldn't work and my hands were soooooooooooooo cold.

Tony the Tiger looked at me with a glint in his eye, took off his "paws" and proceeded to rub his hands together.

"Oh no, you don't, Sunshine!" I said, wondering what to do.

My (then) husband worked for British Gas and had been roped in that day to play Santa in the Showrooms.

I looked around for him. I caught sight of him behind a huge display board adjusting his beard.

"Stop there a minute, Ducky," I shouted to him, "I need a bit of help."

I went round the side of the board and asked Hubby to retrieve the money from down the front of my bra.

He duly obliged.

Well, he would do - it was the best offer he'd had all week!

It was at this moment that I spotted a little boy who had followed me.

He was also looking for Santa.

"Mummy, Mummy - come and look at this!" he shrilled.

His Mum followed and stared in disbelief to see Santa, almost up to his elbows down the bra of one of his Elfin Helpers.

"Don't worry," I said, " we ARE married."

But I knew from the look on her face that she just didn't believe me!

************************

Just before I go, I've managed to find a couple of pics of when I chased after the Mayor of Lincoln down the High Street, dressed as a Victorian prostitute.

I mentioned it in a previous post here.

Apologies for the poor picture quality.

I know some of my tales sound far-fetched, but sometimes they REALLY are true!

The camera never lies.............

Me - when I realised the mayor had driven off without me.

Look how fed up I look!

Oh there he is..............."Coooooeeeeeeee!"

I've found loads of other photo's of my other Promotional Escapades, so don't forget to keep popping back!

Bring your "Tena Ladies" with you.