The February Birthdays

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8 February 2025

Oh February, for decades the month of the ‘double birthday’ with two of my children celebrating their births on consecutive days! Until this year, the first one where neither of them is at home ….

One is is Nepal, one is is a University lab and both happy and well. Gifts and cards are sent and calls are made … nonetheless …

My social media feed lights up with ‘memories’ of parties past. Crowded tables of little children munching party food, smiling faces at local soft-play centres, and plenty of cakes and candles. Then to more recent times and the teenage years;  thumping music, beer pong, disco balls, loud singing and that very same table groaning with alcohol.

And in the echoing silence of a house now empty of my three offspring, I feel a little forlorn …

Kathmandu …

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26 January 2025

My eldest child is in Nepal…

Scarcely has the ink dried on her final exam that my eldest is off on medical elective… in Kathmandu!

My lovely girl pops home for 24 hours before she goes and because I am a flexi work-from-homer these days, I am able to make the most of it. The washing machine whirrs on overdrive, I cook favourite meals, I help to find room in her rucksack for: 5 sets of scrub, a stethoscope and a stock pile of painkillers.

And then, somewhere amidst the busyness, I just stop and stand still for minute. Over thirty years ago, I was the girl frantically packing and re-packing my backpack for a 5 month trip to South East Asia. Excited, raring to go and full of adventure and I recall, moments before I set off , my mum appearing, bursting into tears and saying,

‘It’s just such so far away…’

And today that is me – oh how the tables have turned!

Four and a half thousand miles, fifteen plus hours by plane, a new culture and working in a hospital that will feel entirely different to her experience in the UK. Gosh; it is quite a challenge! And if she does need help – not even my flexi work from home status will be of much use for the next two months.

But, rolling the years back to the start of the 1990s, when I boarded that plane to Bangkok, I was on the verge of some of the best months of my life. An unbelievable time of joy, amazement, wonder – 5 months of feeling on cloud nine and more full of life and excitement than I could have hoped for.

So I keep my worries to myself. But as I drop her off at a friend’s house in Sheffield for the journey down to Gatwick I do give her a very big hug. And I also allow a little voice in my head to say,

Please keep her safe…

How to impress your children…

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Friday 17 January 2025

Well it’s with a traffic cone as it turns out!

Oh the humble traffic cone, so often the unlikely hero of late night pranks. Something about the combination of our endless town-centre roadworks and a good helping of alcohol has made it quite commonplace to see those bold orange and white striped mounds of plastic adorning historic statues, topping iconic buildings and appearing in student kitchens on hung-over morning-afters.

But my cone is not in this ilk at all. Oh no, it is far more respectful. Let me reveal all…

I am driving through the gates of a large institution for a morning meeting when I stop to ask where to park. After a quick verification of my ID I am waved towards … my very own parking spot. Yes a traffic cone, with my name, (my actual name!) on it, stands proud guard over a reserved space just outside the reception.

As chance would have it, I am on a call with my eldest child at this very moment and so impressed is she with the news that, as I am hopping out of the driver’s seat to move the cone, her amplified voice bellows out on speaker phone

“Your name is on it! That is so cool, take a picture mum!”

Passersby look a little startled and all I can do is shrug, point at the cone and say

“Not every day you get your name on a cone!”

What I don’t add, but it could, is that it is even less every-day is doing anything that impresses your children. It is a great start to Friday…

Christmas 2024

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Monday 30 December 2024

Sitting with a coffee and one, of many, left over mini-mince pies, it seems the perfect moment to look back at the festive break…

Once all my kids are safely home, despite load upon load of dirty washing and a speeding ticket, courtesy of the variable-speed-lottery of the M5, it ffeels as if Christmas has begun. It means help with the food shop, extra hands for decorations, time-honoured  cheesy festive films and a house full of laughter and companionship again.

And so to the ‘big day’ itself. Much is familiar: guests, food, crackers, games and fizz.

But there are a few new twists. The hot water packs in on Christmas Eve, so it is cold showers for the hard-core (and a bit of festive grime for the rest) throughout the social season.

Most significant of all, there is  an extra pair of hands in the kitchen… the ill-fated Smallboy. Buoyed by the success of some roast potatoes he’d served up for pals at Uni, he begged to join the Christmas cooking crew. But scarcely had we added his name to the spreadsheet … oh yes, you heard me right, I never do the Xmas dinner without microsoft excel … than calamity starts to dog his every culinary move. Half of our usual crispy spuds became an impromptu mash… and the first tray of turkey had to be hurriedly scooped from the floor, whilst we distracted guests with crackers and paper hats.

I also branch out with my desserts, introducing after -dinner-coffee with  a mini mince pie – Ta da!  In my head,  ‘ultra-chic’. In reality, it goes down about as well as last year’s ‘signature cocktails’ … not a single blinkin’ taker! And hence why, with January on the horizon, I am still munching my way through several boxes of the darned festive pastries!

With the cooking done and the board games exhausted we sink happily down to watch the ‘Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special‘ and my oh my it does no disappoint. I mean. if you were not misty eyed as Mick stands up at the wedding ceremony and up on your feet cheering as the entire cast race to Portsmouth,,, quite frankly, what is wrong with you?

And so the sun sets on another spell of festive cheer. Smith and Ness are married, me and my kids have been re-united. For now, at least, all is well with the world…

Being a mum, being a daughter…

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23 November 2024

It is Smallboy’s first performance with his university orchestra and my mum decides that she want to go and listen. The only problem … the 200 miles between us.

Bless Smallboy, he does like his music but I suspect that he may have auditioned for the symphony orchestra in his first term at university mainly to keep me happy. And so, when he mentions a first concert it is a no-brainer that I shall be going to listen but for my mum… well after two years of hospitals, operations and emergency trips to A and E, it feels like a big deal.

For this trip alone, my beleaguered mama announces that she is postponing her latest procedure. A cold dread grips my heart at the prospect of managing it all. Both  my brothers voice concerns and  I lose a few nights sleep driven to distraction by the thought of everything that could go wrong.

But, a small gift from heaven is heading my way. Prom dress daughter heads south for the weekend to lend a hand, exuding her cheery ‘can do’ calm.  I take a deep breath and resolve to put my worries aside. I book a suitable hotel, pump, charge up mum’s heated cushions, and purchase tickets in accessible concert-venue seats. Then, early on Saturday morning, facing the oncoming wrath of Storm Bert, we hit the M6.

And it goes really well. Yes we arrive like drowned rats – Storm Bert is so ferocious that even 2 minutes out of the car, for a quick pit stop, and we are soaked to our very skins. Yes it is a bit of a challenge getting ubers everywhere upon arrival and balancing extra cases, bags and accessories so that mum can concentrate on herself and her walking stick. Yes the interval small-talk with ex-hub and his latest new woman is a bit stilted. But, and it is a big but, those small details aside we have a blast.

Smallboy excels himself with fun restaurants for us all to eat at, plenty of wine is quaffed, the concert is glorious and … one of my favourite moments of all: the hotel bar.

Hotel bars – did you know they were such great places? I think it is where all the fun guests convene in the late night hours. It is, without question, the spot for the ones who are ‘up for a good time’  and know how to make the most of a weekend away.  And one of our party is definitely in that category. 

Is mum tired and ready for bed as we reach the hotel post-concert … hell no!

“Let’s have a quick brandy in the bar first”

is her suggestion. So we hit ‘terrace bar’ on the elevator and stroll in to an amazing atmosphere. The friendliest of bar servers offers not only to bring our cognacs over but also to ‘warm them’. One ‘quick drink’ becomes two … then three and eventually, we all stumble, a little noisily, back to our room, knowing that we shall we sleeping like logs!

Of course, I am exhausted when we finally make it home the next day, after a grim drive through the torrential rain and gloom. And know it takes mum two of three days to recove. But are there any regrets … absolutely none! And here’s why.

When I began my blog I knew that time was ticking on my home, defined by me and my ‘three teens’, and I wrote to capture and cherish those dwindling years as a full time family of four. The truth of life, however, is that time is ticking on all our relationships.

Who knows if we shall be able to manage such a trip again, Our memorable weekend is a timely reminder that it is not just as a mum but also as a daughter, that I need to make time for fun, laughter and patience with all my loved one, because too soon will come a day when such chances run out…

Autumn Half Term 2024

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Friday 25 October 2024

“Half term already?” laughs one of my friends.

Already? Coping with new jobs and being very much out of my comfort zone, I can assure you that the last eight weeks have felt like eight months! What I need right now, to recharge these batteries is ..something familiar! And nothing can be a better familiar than family. So roll on a city-break reunion with my squad as we all descend upon Small boy, the newest university child, for a long weekend.

Some of us drive down and one of us flies in but by Friday evening we are all together, catching-up over some fine food and wine in a riverside eatery. And it feels great to be a four again.

Saturday, after a lazy morning and a lovely hotel breakfast, we shop a little and chat a lot. As night falls and this liveliest of cities ramps up for Halloween celebrations, we head to ‘Urban Tandoor’. Top-rated on Trust Pilot, this restaurant, is rammed and bursting with life. The Indian food is delicious and the atmosphere unbelievable – on at least two occasions, the diners all break into communal song – including us … and we love it!

On a crisp, sunny Sunday, a proud Small boy takes us on a tour of the University itself. The science buildings are beautiful, set in leafy parks and greenery and my son points out places where he sits for lunch, takes a class or attends labs. He clearly loves it!

It is also here that we come upon the bronze life-sized statue of Henrietta Lacks. Hailed as the ‘mother of modern medicine’, Lacks was a young black woman and mother  who died in 1951 of an unusually aggressive form of cervical cancer. While her disease was a tragedy for her family, for the world of medical research – and beyond that, every one of us on the planet – it was something of a miracle.

Because, in the years since her death, Lacks’s cells – taken from her tumour while she was undergoing surgery – have been responsible for some of the most important medical advances of all time. The polio vaccine, chemotherapy, cloning, gene mapping and IVF: all these health milestones, and many more, owe everything to the life, and death, of a young mother. Henrietta’s cells however were taken without her or her family’s knowledge or consent and as a result her name is also synonymous with ethical issues, eloquently expressed in the statue’s inscription

More than a cell.

To all the unrecognised Black Women who have contributed to humanity, you will never be forgotten. 

It is very inspirational. To remember that we are all actually, ‘more than a cell’ and have a contribution to make, whether this be like Small boy dreaming of a Nobel Prize or me, now old and wise enough to recognise that it is these very family bonds and deep relationships which anchor us to humanity and ensure that we are ever-remembered.

So as night falls and I hit the road back North, I definitely feel re-balanced and back in kilter. A new job, a new car, a new music gig these are all just transient superficial changes. The important stuff, your core values and closest ties…they rarely falter and will always be there to steady you at the rockiest of times …

.

Laughs, Lit and late night rehearsals..

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Sunday 13 October 2024

Seriously, how did I ever manage to live life before I dropped to a 4-day week? This has been one busy weekend…

Friday night is dinner and drinks with some old colleagues and it makes me realise, a little sadly, how much less I laugh in my new place of work.

Is the job I have now easier?

Yes!

Is it less stressful?

Yes!

But, and as it turns out it is a big but,

Do I now have, bestie work buddies….?

Alas, I do not. Of course I do not, I have only been there for 7 weeks, whereas I worked for for 14 years in my previous post. And over that long stretch of time, you make some fantastic friendships. You have doors you can knock on, for a rant, a cry or…most importantly the chance to double up with laughter and shake with mirth until tears run down your face. And I don’t think I had realised how much I had missed that and how important it was to me until we arrange our meet up. We share a little wine, we eat good food, swap stories and have a great catch-up.

Saturday, I head to Ilkley and my second trip to the famous literature festival, which really is an incredible event. In the local churches and school halls of this small Yorkshire town, fine writers and many celebrity names, rub shoulders with us mere mortals to give talks about their latest publications. This years’ programme included: Jodi Picoult, Kate Atkinson, Julian Clary, Gyles Brandreth, Prue Leith, John Suchet, Carol Ann Duffy… and Teresa May!

We have tickets for a cricketing talk and Paul Sinha… yes, the guy from ‘The Chase’ and dodge the showers to grab quick coffees and rushed nachos as we hop from one location to another. Its fun, the speakers are engaging and witty and it makes for a great day out.

Sunday, I dash about doing some chores and straightening up the homestead before setting the SatNav for Preston. I have a late night rehearsal, the final one in a trilogy of madness, preparing for a concert next weekend. Three long hours, 7pm to 10pm, has been a killer on a Sunday night and, as a I eventually drive home, the windscreen wipers going nineteen to the dozen as they battle the torrential rain, it is cold and dark and I am a weary woman. But a happy one too.

After all, whats a weekend for… if not for living life to the full…

And all that Jazz …

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Friday 4th October 2024

From the dreamy candlelight of the Cathedral … to a community pub in Hulme!

Autumn weekends; they have been kinda fun! Be it the liberating empty-nester effect or the fabulous change to a four-day week, something has given me a welcome boost of energy and put me in the mood the step out and soak up the city.

So when my nephew posts his band’s latest gig on Social Media, I call one of my favourite people and we set out to track it down. Thank the Lord that my companion has a great sense of directions because, left to my own devices, I am not sure that I would every have found the pub, hidden in the depths of the Science Park!

There is a quite a crowd and, having dashed into town at the end of a very busy day, only time for a couple of (very tasty) IPA before the bank strike up. Gosh, I love it, the music is ‘right up my street’, old style jazz and swing, richly orchestrated and played with oodles of heart and soul. In some numbers, there is a singer and she is just, top-drawer-amazing with terrific tone, timing and timbre. I find myself wishing my dad was still around as he would also have really enjoyed this!

Eventually, three sets later, we bid farewell and head back into the city centre for some late night food.

‘We are playing Band on the Wall in January’, my nephew reminds me.

Well, count us in, say I. Live music; be it classical, jazz or good old rock and roll…you just can’t beat it!

Play List for Life

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Friday 20 September 2024

I hear about, National Playlist Day, on the radio this morning. It is a UK-wide online event, that celebrates the power of music for people with dementia. The event encourages people to share a song from their past on social media using the hashtag #NationalPlaylistDay. So what song(s) would we all pick? What are the tracks that instantly transport us back to a former place or time? Here are some of mine…

‘Panic’ by the Smiths whisks me back to the Summer of 1986 where, with two of my friends, I had discovered the Hacienda night club. Here the dress-code was free and easy, everyone danced all night and this track…well this track made the whole place go wild. Manchester seemed like the coolest city on the planet and being young and free, well that felt as if it would last forever.

Steve Wonder’s ‘Superstition’, gosh for so many reasons my favourite pop song, but one of these is certainly that it reminds me of University and the much loved cellar disco. A Monday night staple for students in our college. Do some work then simply stumble down the steps of ‘The Cellar’ for beer, a catch-up and a dance. So simple, so perfect…why is life no longer this good?

Tracey Chapman was the soundtrack to my 5 month trip around South East Asia. Something about her soulful, emotive lyrics must have suited the fruit muesli backpackers of Yogyakarta and Kuta Beach back in the late 1980s. I bought the album from a street seller while I was over there (and still have it) ‘Baby can I hold you…‘ ‘Fast car...’ , they come on the radio and I am transported back to another continent.

Proud Mary – the Tina Turner classic. This one makes me howl with laughter. The occasion, a colleague’s wedding. The laughing-until-we- cried? My dreadful dancing; swaying about in a world of my own, devoid of any rhythm or connection to either the music or anyone else on the dance floor … all immortalised for ever on a colleague’s phone video and on the leaving card they made for me.

I turn to think about family. Music and my parents – so many pieces remind me of them, but this song, by Steven Sondheim, is my favourite memory. I can still see them singing it together in the kitchen; those lyrics are just so beautiful, and the moment was just so lovely,

The sun comes up, I think about you
The coffee cup, I think about you
I want you so, it’s like I’m losing my mind ……

But I’ll finish with my children, we share countless silly songs that make me laugh out loud but my three song picks take me back to specific moments and places, that I can still picture as if I were there.

‘Your Song’ was voted the nation’s favourite Elton John hit in a recent poll. For me however, it was hearing Euan Magregor sing it in Moulin Rouge that really put it onto my radar. The year I saw this movie was 2002, the same year as my first child was born. Hearing it now reminds me of singing it to her in our lounge, as I tried to rock her to sleep, the lyrics just perfect for the arrival of such an amazing little person in our lives.

‘Fix you‘ is my tune for Prom-dress daughter and she would know why. We’d both be back in the car on a Saturday morning, after Music Centre, queuing for the car wash with me trying (and failing) for the umpteenth time to learn the harmonies in the chorus. Much laughter and, from such a ordinary moment, such joyful times.

And I finish with Smallboy. Nat King Cole was blasting from the radio in the delivery suite when he was born. ‘Let there be Love’  Its a terrific tune and when I hear it now I recall, with a smile how I, high as a kite on gas and air stood up, resembling a magnificent beached whale, to perform this number for the astonished midwife, using a mouthpiece as a microphone.

Music … truly one of life’s great gifts. Whether it’s for a future playlist when ill, or just for the sheer fun of it, take a trip down memory lane and think about the songs that you’d put on yours …

Friday 13th …

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Friday 13 September 2024

The portent of doom, the omen of misfortune; what would Friday 13th bring this September? Who knew that it  would turn out to be such a good day …

Did I mention that I no longer work on Fridays? Believe me, this alone would be enough to ward off the dark clouds of gloom, but as an added bonus, as my alarm rings, sunlight streams into my bedroom; it is a glorious day,

‘But wait’, I hear you cry, ‘why an alarm on your day off?‘

Well, that would be a slightly earlier walk than usual, plus it is my turn to bring the cake. Battling through the ‘school run’ traffic I dash into ‘Miles Bakery’ and bag some carrot muffins before racing to the start of our ramble.

Such a beautiful route this morning. Late summer sunshine, stunning views across the reservoir and acre upon acre of unspoiled woodland and hillsides. To top it off, the carrot muffins are also delicious. Rich moist cake, with such a kick of ginger and spices that even I am glad of the icing, to balance those flavours out!

Back home, I do have tickets a few items off the ‘to do’ list. With all the offspring back at University, I take a deep breath, swig copious amounts of caffeine and embark on the quest of cleaning up the three abandoned bedrooms. I know, fellow parents, this if not a task for the fainthearted! The most disgusting moments, those encounters with long-discarded take-out packages lurking below beds and in the darkest corners of the chaos. The most satisfying, solving the mystery of where my parcel tape, spare phone charger and favourite cardigan have been hiding for the last few months!

Several hour later, weary but triumphant, I stagger into the shower to clean myself up! Because I am off out for the night.

First stop is the Cathedral for a ‘Candlelight Concert’. The inside of the glorious Gothic building is swathed in gentle candlelight; romantic and dreamy. The talented string quintet bring us ‘Funk on Strings’, the soulful sounds of Stevie Wonder and James Brown, the perfect match to a glass of red wine and a relaxed post-work Friday concert. As the music ends, we stroll out for food and more wine, spoiled for eatery-choice in the busy Manchester streets, as far as I am concerned, with the best-est of company.

A harbinger of doom this day may well be in folk lore and culture, but happily on this occasion, no dreaded  disasters for me. The only ‘Superstition’ being Stevie Wonder’s funkiest tune played by a string quintet. Far from unlucky, , I’d call that an almost perfect day…