April 2023
Easter by the sea …
Saturday 8 April 2023
Easter Saturday dawns and we hop into the car for our first family holiday since Gran Canaria in 2019. Llyn Peninsula here we come…
It may only be for a long weekend and it may be to a part of the world we are all very familiar with, as my family has had a caravan in this lovely corner of North Wales for close to 5 decades. Nonetheless, there is just no beating a family trip.
With my offspring now marching confidently into adulthood, this getaway is much about nostalgia and and the delight of rediscovering old routines. We breakfast, on the road, at our favourite faithful diner. Upon arrival we dig out the flipflops and sliders and head straight for the beach; beautiful Blackrock Sands and 2 miles of sandy coast.
The weather is glorious and there is much laughter and fun. Moreover, strolling along the beach and paddling in the sea with ice-creams feels a millions miles away from the urban sprawl of Greater Manchester we left only hours earlier.
We don’t escape the Mancunians entirely however as, to revive our legs after the walk, Small boy and I find ourselves watching a Manchester City (City, I know and to make matters worse they are spectacular) match at the rowdy caravan club with several bottles of much needed Peroni. Meanwhile, the girls have re-united with some old ‘caravan friends‘ and are catching up with drinks in a quieter part of the complex.
A trip to the fish and chip shop sorts out tea and after a little more beer and a hilarious rummage through the old caravan board games, it is time to turn in… and full of sea air and a little bit of alcohol we sleep like logs.
Next day, with our caravan friends we set out on a walk over the beach and across the hilltops to Porthmadog, the nearest town for lunch. It is a fabulously sunny day once more and the scenery is stunning. It is also quite a trek and legs are weary and faces wear the blush of exercise, as well as the first spring sun, as we toil back, feeling pretty proud of ourselves.
We round off our Easter weekender with a drive to Llandudno, which is actually a new destination for us all, before heading home on the M56 once more.
What a terrific few days away. I realise I’ve missed family holidays. There really is nothing quite like them for building bonds and memories. I’ll have to accept that, for my young adults, 3 days away with their mum is probably the limit now so …. here’s to the next mini-vacation…
Osma in Prestwich…
Thursday 13 April 2023
In the late 80’s, a university boyfriend who’d travelled to visit me, in my home town of Prestwich, insisted on a pilgrimage to the house of Mark E Smith, sadly now late but ever irascible frontman of the Fall. Two weeks ago, another uni friend calls to say that we must ‘do lunch‘ at a great Prestwich restaurant that is featuring on The Great British Menu. Yes, all Prestwich, my childhood stomping ground, … who knew?
Is there no end to the eclectic mix of fame and fortune in this small Mancunian suburb? (Prestwich also boasts, to name but a few: Victoria Wood, Elkie Brookes, Arlene Phillips, novellist Howard Jacobson and Godley and Creme!) Well, clearly not; indeed I could be forgiven for feeling quite the serial underachiever as a local of these parts! But enough of my life reflections, what of the latest star on the Prestwich podium?
Requests from old uni pals aside, we have already been once, but when I frantically text my fellow diner with the exciting news that chef Danielle Heron is indeed now on the TV, we decide that we have to go again. So let me tell you our latest trip to Osma…
What can I say but… an outstanding evening!
Our waiter is a delight. Knowledgeable, attentive and fun. He also gets full marks for navigating the hilarious confusion my friend causes when mistaking the wine prices for the alcohol percentage. (Oh yes, it will be a while before I let this one drop!) And then comes the food. We share five small plates and each is sensational, I mean I write my fanciful adjectives now, but at the time after one dish I just have to tell our spirited server,
“That was bloomin’ fantastic!”
Influenced by the chef’s time in Oslo, the plates have a definite ‘Scandi-feel’; fresh and light but utterly full of flavour. In short, each serving appears crafted to make your taste buds sing. It also looks beautiful. What’s not to love?
The atmosphere is also friendly and relaxed. It is one of those evenings when 7pm becomes 10pm before you’ve even noticed. We are having such an amazing time, that we also share a desert and dawdle over coffee.
So would I recommend? I definitely would. In fact, I cannot wait until my other uni friend visits is the Summer to try out the ‘Lunch Menu’. Whilst the evening is all about , “small sharing plates … accompanied by wines and cocktail” the midday menu promises
“open Scandinavian sandwiches and hearty salads – using seasonal ingredients from local British farms and producers – alongside fresh juices and great coffee.”
Sounds delicious!
So for this evening a fond farewell to Osma, a definite reason to feel even prouder than ever to come from Prestwich, but be assured, I shall be back … it might even become a compulsion with me …
I was looking for a job…
Saturday 22 April 2022
” … and then (they) found a job”
Heavens knows I’m Miserable now: The Smiths
As we move into the second half of April, two of my offspring find themselves on the payroll…
In the Scottish capital, Prom-dress daughter secures a job in a trendy cocktail bar and closer to home, in the pretty village up the road from our house, Small Boy is taken on at a local coffee shop. They are both very excited, well for my daughter, struggling to stretch a student loan to cover living costs, there is also a lot of relief.
Is it wrong, however, that I feel a little concerned?
Of course, I understand the attraction of some extra funds for a teenager and I also accept that I have never experienced the financial challenges and worries that today’s University students face. Nonetheless, I also know that one route to real financial choice and security comes from a decent set of qualifications and my question is this; can you have both? Can you get the best grades if your time is divided between work and study?
I’m not the only one to wonder. Oxbridge continue to actively discourage term-time work. But, in a landscape of spiralling costs, many students find that they simply have no choice because loans frequently fail to even cover the basic rent. Sir Peter Lampl, founder and chairman of the Sutton Trust, highlights the additional pressures on students from less affluent backgrounds,
“For many, wages from part-time work are the only way they can make ends meet …. It’s tough and it’s often the students’ academic work that loses out.”
Others point out that it is not only studying time, but also social time that is squeezed by the addition of a job into the student schedule, which can lead to isolation and stress. One student, in the Guardian Article, ‘How much part-time work should I take on while studying?‘ reported “getting really run-down and ill” and being “always envious of friends who could just concentrate on their studies”
Well ‘heaven’s knows I’m miserable now‘, that all sounds rather grim, so what of the benefits? Clearly there’s the cash, but does part-time job have any other advantages?
Reassuringly UCAS, in the article ‘Balancing work and study’ point our several plus points,
“As long as it doesn’t take up too much study time, finding a part-time job is a great way to gain more money, less debt, and new skills for your CV“
The cite a range of generic employability skills such as: communication, team work and time management. And, dependant on the nature or the role, point out that students can also learn various technical skills and that ‘above all, employers will want you to display the same skills in fresh thinking and systematic working that make you a success academically‘ . This positive view of part-time employment is echoed by several other Universities too, as well as, less surprisingly, most employment agencies.
The key seems to be the balance and two pieces of sage advice ring in my ears as I read through the various pieces of guidance in this area. The first is the recommendation from most course providers that part-time work, during term time, is kept to a maximum of 15 – 20 hours per week. The second is not to lose sight of why you are studying in the first place and to be prepared to lose the shifts if your grades or health start to suffer.
“Remember that you’re paying to be at uni and get a degree, so don’t waste that by running yourself into the ground”
Sound and sensible words indeed. I’ll keep it in mind as we enter the new world of the teenage workers …
May 2023
I’m not a single parent, I’m a double parent…
Thursday 4 May 2023
It is a Thursday evening. After a long day at work, I reach home around 7pm to find ex-hub in my lounge. He is stopping off for a whistle-stop visit to my youngest child, at the end of some 3-week coast to coast walk his employer decided he deserved. He is enthusing about his trek and I hear phrases like ‘sense of achievement’ and the ‘challenge‘ of just ‘having to get up and get on with it every day‘. I just stare at him with glazed eyes of bewilderment.
Because, quite frankly he could be talking Russian right now. His ‘demanding’ three weeks of trotting across the land, in the Spring sunshine are so far removed from the 21 days I have battled through that … I simply have no words. And, right there in that very moment, it hits me like a thunderbolt. The reason I am so (so very) tired is because I do all the parenting. I’ve always labelled myself as a single parent but I have been wrong. I am less a single and more a double parent!
Well, I say that out loud and could be forgiven for viewing myself as a pretty impressive member of the family circle. Cue, blogger Elizabeth Denham, author of ‘The Double Parent‘
“If we were to do twice the work asked of us by our boss, we would be applauded, promoted and given raises … As a double parent, I am proud (that I) do double the work.”
I think she has a point! It certainly cheers me up. I even manage to nod and smile politely as ex-Hub moves on to wax lyrical about a glorious section of his walk through the Lake District. Because, in my head, I am replaying the parenting achievements I have ticked off in the past fortnight. Full time job, shopping, cooking, cleaning for Small Boy and I, sorting student finance for next year, advising on work clothes for Small Boy’s new job and giving him a first day lift, jointly researching and scheduling uni open days, helping my Eldest with some car problems and … hey I even rose to the challenge (from Prom dress Daughter) of minimising some undergraduate Economics function of inflation and unemployment rate, over the phone and at about 9pm after a progress evening event at work!
Woohoo parents. You should all do this. Because I am now feeling like ‘super mum’ and I am pretty confident that even more impressive parental feats will have been accomplished by most of you all over the last 10 days or so.
I zone back into the lounge. Ex Hub is now half-way through regaling us with talk of his next voyage … I pick up something about an ‘Italian villa with friends‘.
Oh forget those lightweight plans, say I. Let me update you with the weekend schedule for the double parent in the room?
I am setting my Saturday alarm for 05:45 to drive up and down to Edinburgh in a day to deliver Prom dress daughter’s new passport. Oh yes, my lovely girl, booked and paid for her holiday before ordering her new passport! She flies to Ibiza next Wednesday and the new ID arrives tomorrow (Friday). To complete the catastrophe of calamity, it does not arrive in the Scottish capital alas but…at my house! She did offer to come and collect it but she also has work shifts and a final Statistics exam on the Tuesday so … let’s just say I am a very nice mum!
Why in a day? I hear you ask? Well because on the Sunday I have to take my own incredibly lovely mum for a hospital scan. When I tell her about Prom dress daughter she just laughs and brings up some tale of my dad, back in the day, having to travel to London to get me a Polish Visa whilst I holidayed in Spain! In her eyes this is clearly karma!
But my weary eyes are beginning to droop now, so as this double parent heads off to plan a few lessons, I say three cheers for all the fabulous parents out there. We don’t need seek out challenge and a ‘sense of accomplishment’ by walking a hundred miles through the English hills, we do amazing work three hundred and sixty five days of the year by … putting ourselves out to put our children first …
A day trip to Derbyshire…
Saturday 13 May 2023
After last weekend’s flit to Edinburgh, I was holding out for my first Saturday lie-in in May. It turns out not to be the case…
There are a number of reasons for the early start, and I can’t blame the offspring for any of them! The most significant is that I have to see a man about … an oboe. Yes, my beloved instrument, rather like its owner, is showing the ravages of time and has been booked in for a pretty pricey overhaul.
I only trust one man with such a job, for my favourite possession, and the only way for him to collect the poor old thing, this side of Summer, is for me to meet him at his gig in the Buxton Opera House. At the same time, due to train strikes, my lovely mum is struggling to visit her sister, who is based by chance in a nearby Derbyshire village and so we hatch the plot to head for the High Peak together. Let’s call it a mini mother-daughter road trip.
The third addendum to the weekend frolics is that my washing machine packs in. Yup, you load it up, press start, it grunts, groans, soaks your clothes and then grinds to a stuttering halt. So, with weary resignation, I push the alarm back a further thirty minutes, allowing time to weigh down the car with two loads of soiled, sodden laundry that can be chucked into mum’s Zanussi and pegged on the line before we hit the M60!
To be fair, it all runs like clockwork. Mum and I are both appalling navigators so place our trust in the satnav and enjoy the country roads it takes us to. Whilst Mum laughs that it is the only time, on many trips to this part of the world, that she has ever driven through the hamlet of ‘Sparrowpit‘ , by eleven we are in my Aunt’s flat enjoying well earned cuppa, safe in the knowledge that, as we chat, the warm spring sunshine will be drying my week’s worth of washing. The three of us have a fantastic catch-up, share many jokes (there is even singing) and all relish a fish and chip lunch.
By late-afternoon, we are in Buxton and treating ourselves to cold drinks (and donuts) in an elegant park, basking, for once, in some glorious weather. The rendez-vous with my oboe repairer goes smoothly. He is really nice and even offers me comps for the evening’s opera. But after a very early start, a 10:30pm finish doesn’t sound great,(plus I know that Small boy is counting on a lift to a party at 7pm) so we politely decline.
Instead, after a jolly drive home and a successful dispatch of my socialite son, it is a night of wine and Eurovision for me – ‘Cha cha cha … !’
As for the washing machine… well an even nicer man sorts me out a terrific deal on a whizzy new washer. So life is looking up and who knows, next weekend, I might even get a lie-in…
Here comes the sun…
Saturday 27 May 2023
Can anyone believe our British luck? Bank Holiday weekend and half term and the sun is out!
I know, but ‘Shush’, we don’t want to jinx it because after some endlessly long and wet times in Winter and Spring, it is a most welcome sight. And, I read, it is also good for us!
Oh ‘easy skin-care brigade‘, it goes without saying that we all slap on the factor 50 but, with that protection in place, let’s look at the upside of some solar basking!
In his podcast ‘Just one thing‘ , Michael Mosley looks at why we should get some sun and concludes that,
.”..the truth is, our bodies need it – especially in the northern hemisphere…”
Sitting outside and soaking up the rays is claimed to have a wealth of benefits for both our physical and mental health. It boosts our vitamin D, important for bone health and also for fighting range of diseases, including dementia, autoimmune diseases and diabetes. Sunlight can also contribute to lowering blood pressure. And it feels great? Well, indeed, there is some scientific evidence that it does lift our mood, one study finding that levels of serotonin in our blood are higher on bright days than on those that are cloudy or overcast.
I can add a fourth… it is super relaxing! In a blissfully quiet home, with all my offspring either off in Uni-land or out at work, I happily sway in the sun, on my zero gravity lounger for most of the afternoon. And the garden is swathed in warm rays for longer than usual. Yes, about a month ago I was more than a little shaken when one of my neighbours went a touch psycho with his hedge cutters and lopped a good 2 metres off our adjoining wall of greenery. Today, however, whilst it still looks absolutely atrocious, I am reaping the benefits of wall to wall sunshine. And, my oh my, it is marvellous.
Now I know there will be some amongst you claiming that you ‘hate just sitting around doing nothing‘ and need to be ‘kept busy’. Well to you, I politely throw down the gauntlet of living my life for a month, in its full entirety of lone- motherly madness. I’m pretty confident that after 4 weeks you’d not only be putting aside your qualms about an afternoon of lounging but actually begging just to be allowed to sit down and enjoy some peace and quiet! And if not, well go out for a walk, resit the urge to ruin everyone’s tranquility with your lawn mowers and leave us layabouts be!
So I am off to enjoy a little but more of life in my lounger. Let’s just hope the fine weather lasts…
There’s just something about a new washing machine …
Monday 29 May 2023
This weekend, our new washing machine is delivered. It is such an upgrade, I feel as if I’ve joined the space age. And I am smitten …
It is sleek and silent. The controls are an intuitive inspiration to navigate and its zips through the weekend laundry with eco-friendly ease. Oh I could and sit and gaze at it all day!
Now that does take me back! Because in the late 70s, when we got our first automatic machine that is exactly what my elder brother and I did. Pulled up small chairs and sat there, with our bowls of Rice Krispies, foregoing Saturday ‘Swap Shop‘ on TV to watch the clothes rotating round in the drum instead; such was the excitement!
Although it was a fond farewell to its predecessor, the old ‘twin-tub top loader’ device, which I recall being honoured to help with… very occasionally. My chubby toddler legs planted firmly on a kitchen stool, mum would let me use the huge wooden tongs to haul soggy garments from the washing side to the spinner!
I can only imagine one almighty mess with me at the helm of this operation but I think that mum was so busy marvelling about what a step-change this was from the laundry days of her childhood and doubtless, re-telling yet again the gruesome tale of her brother, getting his thumb caught in the mangle (ouch), that she failed to notice!
So, from the menacing mangle machine to my Bosch series 4; what rapid technological progress in my mum’s lifetime alone! And what a difference it has made to women in particular. Is that the secret of the washing machine’s allure?
It has undoubtedly brought huge labour saving benefits to the home. Actually, let me just amend that, homes in the developed world. In his brilliant TED Talk ‘The magic Washing Machine’ Hans Rosling, not only captures, with charm, the the impact of the first automatic machine but also challenges us to address the disparity in global technological development and the issues this poses for both equality of opportunity and world-wide energy consumption.
Whilst acknowledging the severity of climate change issues, Hans remains an enthusiatic advocate of the washing machine throughout, citing in his hugely engaging talk
“If you have a democracy, people will vote for washing machines…”
And many others agree. Google ‘the benefits of the washing machine for women’ and there are countless authors, from the Vatican to University researchers who have written about how reducing the chore of washing that weekly load from a 4-hour slog to a 40 minute automation has had a profound impact on our world, and women’s lives in particular. Tina Ruseva CEO of Montessa, writing on International Women’s Day in 2020, sums it up neatly ” … contraception, washing machines, and the Internet – technology has empowered women like no public program in human history. In fact it has empowered society as a whole….”
So my marvelling is not misplaced this afternoon, in fact I feel utterly justified in brewing myself a nice coffee and taking a moment to moon over my newest kitchen recruit once more.
Welcome washing machine and were you on the ballot paper in the next election…you’d probably get my cross!
June 2023
Time to stop running…
Saturday 17 June 2023
This weekend, as I struggle even to kneel on the floor, I finally have to accept that … I’ve wrecked my right knee!
For now, it means farewell to running, because, whilst I receive lots of varied advice: ‘looks like your cartilage’; ‘could be your IT band’; ‘you need ice pack’ ‘you need a heat pack’; ‘rest it’, ‘bind it and see how you go ‘ all concur that the pavement pounding is the root cause and that I have ‘runner’s knee’ – eek!
That’s certainly where it began, as far back as January, when my knee would twinge and make me a bit ‘hobbly’ after a run but ease during the week. And it is also where it ended … on a sunny Saturday morning, three weeks ago. My illustrious run buddy had dragged us successfully to the top of a hill, but only 3 minutes into the glorious gallop of a downhill, the pain shooting down my leg was so awful that we had to pull up and limp me home.
Last week, I ventured out again but it was not successful (and probably not wise) and so, I have now, decided to hang up my trainers for at least a month.
For a few days, I feel like a bona-fide athlete with an ‘injury’. Let’s face it, I’ve smiled my way supportively (occasionally with gritted teeth) through so many of the aches and ailments of the past husbands (okay, only one ex hub) and men in my life, that I have definitely earned my five minutes of ‘Patellofemoral Pain’– fame. But, pretty quickly, I just feel a bit blue.
Is it that I missing running?
Not really. I mean if it ends up being a permanent ‘so long‘ to striding out each Saturday, then I will be sad. My weekly 10K is activity that not only keeps me fit, but has also been sociable, fun and a brilliant way to strengthen friendships with a number of inspirational women. And for busy females, with lots of caring responsibilities, running is the perfect choice; fitting around demanding lives and keeping us within easy reach of those who may need us. From a single mum’s perspective, jogging is also great because it is so easy on the purse. Get yourself a pair of trainers and, off you go!
Because of this, I don’t completely rule out out lacing up my running shoes again. But, for me, the killer blow has not been the loss of weekly exercise, it has been the combination of incessant pain and, experiencing, for the first time, the limitations on my movement and my body.
To this point, I’ve lived happily and harmoniously in this frame. Flexible, bendy and always at ease in my own bones; that is what I am used to and that’s where I expected to stay. And I thank childhood gymnastic lessons for it.
Oh Gym club! I trundled along, aged 8, in a pair of ghastly floral shorts, just about able to bundle through an ungainly forward roll, and … it was a baptism of fire. Gymnastics, in the late 70s, was not for the fainthearted and it was a case of give up or go on a very steep learning curve. I chose the latter.
My mum got a book from the library, I got a leotard and we both lined the hall with cushions and mattresses so that I could practise handstands and walkovers and hurling myself, repeatedly forwards and backwards into the kitchen. Within a year, I had been moved into the Sunday squad, had a floor routine to music and could spring onto the vault from such a distance that, not only was I a shoe-in for the sack race on Sports Day, but I was also the interschool’s long jump champion. Moreover, I was strong and supple. Although mum made me pack it all in as I moved to high school (and she wanted me to concentrate on homework), the feeling of fluidity lived on and … I guess I thought it would last forever
Until now. It is a horribly shock to find my motion so limited. Pain when I squat down to load the washing machine and a huge struggle to get back up. Only able to hobble stiffly down the stairs each morning. On some days, just feeling so drained with the aching in my leg, that I could cry. Will this ever be cured, I wonder, if I carry on running?
Friends have recommended, seeing doctors, visiting physios, getting injections! One even thought keyhole surgery would be an option. But … none of them are single mums. I can justify neither the time nor the money for any of this. I am already behind on dental treatment (due to cost) and some routine GP checks (due to time and workload).
My only hope is that a bit of R and R does the trick. So, fingers crossed, otherwise yoga class, rambling group and walking sticks here I come!
Strawberry breakfast …
Saturday 24 June 2023
So this Saturday, instead of setting my alarm and swigging a few mouthfuls of tea before racing off to meet my run buddy, I get up when I wake up, potter into the kitchen to savour my morning brew and glance into the garden … whereupon, I espy strawberries!
Oh my goodness, I had completely forgotten my strawberry plants were there! A distant memory stirs of me sowing the seeds in Spring 2022. I think that a couple of berries did appear last Summer but were swiftly devoured by the birds before I ever got near and since then, I have pretty much left them to their own devices!
So when I read, on the Sunflower Farms blog , that strawberries
” …don’t require much yet produce a delightful harvest…”
I can certainly affirm that this is true. With not a scrap of attention from me over the past 12 month, my plants have, not only survived, but have flourished and are now laden down with fine red fruits. (Sometimes, I ponder, that this may also be the unexpected success of my lone-child rearing efforts. With their mum short on time and resources, my trio have often had to figure things out for themselves and seem to be doing pretty well on it. ) But, I digress; back to my Fragaria x ananassa, which is the scientific name for those goodly berries.
I slide into some sliders and head out, old ice-cream tub in hand to gather my crop!
One of the main benefits, claim Hartey Botanic Magazine, of growing your own are that,
“Homegrown strawberries taste delicious“
I bite into my first fruit… ughh… not great! maybe I have plucked them too early or too late, but that berry is bitter and woody. Into my head, however, pops a vision from my childhood, of a friend’s mum soaking strawberries in vinegar. I guess it stuck because it seems so counterintuitive. Alexa, however, concurs that I should indeed ‘soak strawberries in a solution of 1 part vinegar and 4 parts water for 5 minutes’.
So I do; and they are transformed.
I breakfast triumphantly on a sumptuous bowl of oat, berries, yogurt and honey. It is tasty! And there are plenty more berries still to be harvested this year, with the promise of yet more in 2024. As the experts tell me that ,
“One of the biggest benefits of growing strawberries is their perennial nature. You can reap the rewards of your labor for several years after initially planting strawberries with minimal effort after the initial planting year. “
Well, ‘hip hip hooray’ I say! Good for the budget, good for your health and minimal on effort. What is not to love?
Plus, I now feel set for the day. Am I to be a non-running lady of leisure? No I am not. I have a ton of work to clear before Sunday night, when Elton John takes to the pyramid stage at Glastonbury! Elton is in my ‘top three’ of acts I’d love to see live before I die. (The friend I have most discussed this with will, I know, be currently tearing his hair out at my musical tastes… but I stand firm!) Anyway, as this is his ‘Farewell Tour‘ I’m guessing that the ‘live’ ship has now sailed but at least I have the TV … if that is I can wrestle the remote from Smallboy who is unusually obsessed with Love Island this season.
I fancy my chances of victory to be honest, and I also think that Elton and the rest of my top 3 deserve their own post so, until then, I need to get busy …
Smashing Single Parenthood 