Cost of living and the long wet Summer …

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24 August 2023

Will it ever stop raining and how is it still a week until payday?

Nearly two years into our grim UK cost of living crisis, a brace of back-to-back 31 day months feels like a killer at the moment!

At least my offspring are older I think, as I lie awake doing the mental gymnastics of stretching my remaining August budget over looming costs and commitments. How on earth do parents with younger children cope? An added pressure must be the school holidays where we are told that families are supposed to be having fun? But in a Summer which has seen the “UK’s sixth wettest July on record”, according to the Met Office, this can feel like a costly and challenging venture. How are other single parents faring as prices continue to rise, existing ‘fixes’ come to an end… and rain continues to fall?

The research shows that they are struggling. With savings pots 20 times smaller than the average, a 2022 article in The Guardian find that “Single-parent families ‘most exposed’ to cost of living crisis in Great Britain.” And the widely quoted report “Single Parents in 2023” from the charity Gingerbread, builds a fuller picture of the impacts of this. It is an upsetting read. I’ll go further; for me, it is a disgraceful reflection on life for too many in a country with one of the largest world economies. Nearly half have cut back on, or gone without, food and meals for themselves. Almost as many made similar sacrifices with heating or electricity.

That said, this report is proactive and makes a number of recommendations on: welfare reform, debt management and employment support. And so I too resolve to draw up some ‘cost of living’ tips to keep myself on track. I look back to the past seven days for inspiration.

Tip#1: Buy fruit and vegetables from your local market

I chance upon this one in my role as ‘hostess with the most-est‘, entertaining several university friends last week. My hunt for fennel, to pep up a vegan paella, brings me to a stall in our huge local market close to closing time. The licorice livener is there but so too is this insane end of day offer, that is also straight into our tote bag:

“6 punnets of fruit…” (as in any mixture of, strawberries, raspberries, blue berries, watermelon, peaches etc’ ..” for £2“

What a steal! Delicious, healthy, unbelievable value… what’s not to love! I’m certainly making a regular date with my favourite fruitmonger!

Tip#2: Hang onto your NHS dentist!

I’ve messed this one up, alas. Missed too many appointments and was taken off the NHS list and thrown into the financial misery of private practice. This week, I trudge grudgingly off to pay (far too much of) my hard earned money for a simple filling. The NHS cap prices whereas in private land, they cumulate them. The results price differential is significant. So learn from my mistakes readers! Cherish those check-ups and hold onto your place in the world of affordable healthcare.

Tip#3: Manchester museums and galleries.

Aa many visitors come and go for us this week, I find myself on several days out in Manchester. And these sparkle with cultural delights from the large museums to smaller galleries. From LS Lowry’s matchstick men to ‘Julia and Axel‘ and thirty years of such iconic books as ‘The Gruffalo‘, ‘Room on the Broom’ and ‘The Smartest Giant in Town‘. From ‘Unpicking Couture‘ at the art gallery, to retracing Manchester’s proud textile history at MOSI and exploring culture, history and identity at Esea . The extra bonus readers ? It is all completely free!

So, three cheers for the What’s on’ guide, offering a wealth of culture for all on my doorstep!

Well, that’s it for my lessons learned this week. It’s a start I guess, but let’s be honest, only a drop in the ocean. For real change and fairness, we clearly need more fundamental action. Is that Gingerbread’s reforms? Is that a new government? Who knows but of this I am sure …roll on payday!

Birthday time in Edinburgh …

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Sunday 6 August 2023

I started my blog in 2019, with a ‘trio of teens, but I am now fast approaching the era of parenting only twenty-somethings, as this month sees Prom-dress daughter become our second vicenarian. As my middle child also lives (almost) permanently in the Scottish capital now, for birthday celebrations, the rest of us head north for a week …

Edinburgh, in August, is in full festival mode. It is hustle and bustle on every corner, with shows, markets, pop up bars and … people! And we have a great time.

One of our highlights is a fabulous Birthday meal at ‘Chez Jules’ in the New Town.

“Friends have told me it’s really good Mum” enthuses Prom dress daughter

“but … (and this bit makes this old quinquagenarian smile) ... you have to call up to get a table!”

Well, hold the front page, I have to actually speak to someone? I can’t just fire up my smart phone and press buttons to make a reservation? However did humankind cope, in the dark pre-iPhone age of the 20th Century?

Anyway, I manage the task of a phone call booking and it is a good job that I do, as at 7:30 prompt, when we descend the steps into the buzz of this popular French Bistro it is rammed. And it is easy to see why – fabulous food, plentiful red wine, brilliant atmosphere and friendly staff all combine to make an evening that is … magnifique!

On another day, we enjoy a first trip to Leith, by the sea. And (when we finally work out how to get out of the Ocean Terminal car park lift!) have a lovely time exploring the shops, cafes and harbour. Small boy wins our ‘Bargain Hunt’ £5 challenge with his (broken) silver cigarette lighter from the large Antiques Centre and we wait to see if it makes him a fortune!

And we round off our trip with the ‘Barbie’ movie, enjoying the film, with pink cocktails and snacks in the comfy armchairs an Everyman Cinema

It is a super fun-flick to finish our week away, with its light-hearted and humorous exploration of gender roles in society. My favourite character has to be ‘weird Barbie’, with her shorn hair and legs stuck permanently in the splits position. She instantly transports me back from the present, where my two sophisticated daughters sit with their Strawberry Daiquiris, to the time when, as under 10’s, they terrorised their own Barbies’, in particular those hairstyles with scissors and felt tip pens.

Gosh, much changes in a decade and, as we wave goodbye to our birthday girl and she moves from teens to twenties, I wonder what the next 10 years will bring…

Walk, eat, laugh… jigsaw!

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Monday 24 July 2023

After a very hectic few days, I finally make it to my friend’s idyllic holiday cottage to relax and wind down…

Hectic? Well yes, before I can even think about my own journey, this morning, at an unsociable 3:30 am to be exact, I deliver ex-hub and all three of our offspring to Manchester airport. The day before, was enlivened by the drama of train cancellations. Prom-dress daughter, en route from Edinburgh, booked tickets on three trains which were subsequently scrapped, before managing to leap onto an Intercity that got her as far as York. But that is not Manchester! And so, (whilst I had asked ex-hub to factor such train tribulations into his travel plans – but he didn’t,) I set out in the rain and gathering gloom of Sunday evening to complete 3 hour round trip to collect her. So you’ll understand that I am a little weary.

Still … breathe… I am now here. It is a beautiful spot and we have a wonderful week of pleasing ourselves and switching off from work, family and … everything.

I enjoy day after day of luxurious lie-ins. We walk for miles through the lush green countryside, blessed by forecast-defying, fine weather. It is stunning to look at and feels revitalising to be in.

We eat… really well and far too much. We drink a lot of wine. We do a spot of late night star gazing and we share a lot of laughter. I am even allowed to indulge my jigsaw obsession.

My friend finds this highly amusing but I hold firm. Alongside the benefits of fresh air, good food and plenty of humour, the humble jigsaw is a terrific way to de-stress. To quote ‘Gibson’s games’, on the many benefits of puzzling,

“Completing a jigsaw has a similar affect to meditation as it generates a sense of calmness and peace. Because our minds are focused, we find ourselves concentrating on the puzzle alone, which empties our brains of the stresses and anxieties we face every day“

And something tells me that inner strength and reserves of sleep will be needed as the week draws to a close and we pack our bags for home once more. I’m collecting ex-hub and our three children from Ringway around midnight on Saturday. Then on Sunday morning, I need to get Prom-dress daughter back to Edinburgh for an 11:30 am shift, so back to the reality of being a mum with a bang! Thank the Lord for at least one week’s break…

MOT for the mum (taxi) …

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Thursday 20 July 2023

Well pour me a large glass of wine and switch off the 6am alarm for the next month! I have, finally, finished work for the Summer. The only thing on the agenda for tomorrow is Windsor, the trusty Toyota’s, MOT…

My old car has definitely earned his stripes and a well deserved break from us all, if only for a few hours this Friday. He has covered a fair few miles recently.

He’s been up to Edinburgh and across to Middlesbrough, to collect and store student belongings, trundling hundreds of motorway miles with his spacious boot crammed to the rafters with clothes, kitchenware … and even a chest of drawers! He was the reliable roadster taking mum and I to a recent hospital visit on the other side of Manchester (She had offered to go alone by taxi but, by good fortune Windsor and I were also there because her previous solo visit, it transpired, had resulted in a minor meds mix-up. All now, thankfully, resolved) He’s gallivanted across the Northwest from Fleetwood to Eccles delivering me to rehearsals and concerts. And he’s been by my side for the daily work commute (a round trip of over 200 miles per week.)

So he needs this MOT and a bit of RnR, I think as I drop him off the next morning. Possibly a fair bit of work too, as the old boy now has over 120 000 mile on the clock, plus a few bashes and bruises after nearly a decade of my driving.

I meander home to pass a very pleasant and relaxing morning as well. With no vehicle, I am suddenly at no-one’s beck and call. Instead, I spend my time doing… pretty much what I had planned to do with my first day of holidays. It is marvellous. I am productive. I am creative. I complete yoga routine one. I am uninterrupted and stress free. I am also about to get a huge surprise. It’s the garage,

“Your car’s passed, so you can pick it up whenever you’re ready”

‘Passed?’ I repeat several times in hushed tones. But it is true; not even an advisory on the paperwork. I am so shocked that I post the news straight into the family WhatsApp …

Oh what a dismal, disastrous school-girl error!

Within seconds the screen lights up,

“Oh does that mean you can pick me up from work at 4?”

“Can you give us a lift to basketball at 8?”

“My train gets into Piccadilly at 7:33″

What have I done? A day of delicious self-indulgence shatters before my eyes. I collect my faithful old car and the pair of us stagger straight back into our usual, exhausting taxi-routine. By 9:30 pm, I am finally trying to de-frazzle on the sofa with a glass of whiskey.

There is however a dim light on the horizon. On Monday morning, I am, for some reason, rising at 4am to drive my trio and their dad to the airport for a flight to Berlin. A miserably early start for sure, but possibly one that means, maybe.. just maybe … I get a one peaceful week and a chance to put on the brakes and recharge my batteries this holiday…

The school re-union

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Saturday July 8 2023

I am channeling my inner ‘Romy and Michele’, as July kicks off with, a school reunion…

It is not the first time school have held such gatherings, but it is the first one I have been to. Why I have always swerved them in the past? I’m not entirely sure!

Was I not curious? Was I not tempted to ‘show off’? ‘Was I not drawn the to chance to re-live my youth?’ These are, some of, the reasons the RGS Foundation cite in their article ‘Top 10 reasons you should attend your old school reunion’. But I have to confess to none of these emotions. I’ve always been pretty successful at keeping in contact with my closest school pals, plus we now have social media to widen friendship groups further, so the classmate contact feels already in place.

What about the building themselves then? Retreading the corridors with their memories and ghosts? Sitting in your former classroom and feeling yourself racing back in time? Triggers to old traditions and long-forgotten routines? As another writer, penning on the topic of reunions puts it,

You can explore the hallways, classrooms, and other parts of the school, which can bring back a flood of emotions and nostalgia.

Sorry, but this isn’t me either, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, life’s twists and turns, have brought back in my home town and my children have all attended my old school for their sixth-form studies. So, via inductions, open days and parental evenings, I’ve gradually re-built my recollections of the lovely old buildings and gracious grounds…what’s left of them that is. Because, secondly, there has been so much building and expansion that ‘my school’ of the 1980s is barely recognisable in places.

So why do I go this time?

Well clearly not for any of the usual reasons. Above all, readers, I have reached the glorious 50s, a decade when you joyfully realise that you no longer give ‘two penn’orth’ for the opinions of others but you do welcome a social event on the midweek calendar. I sign up because one of my oldest friends, who now lives far away, announces that she is going to attend and I think… ‘this sounds like fun!’

And that is exactly what it turns out to be.

As the great day dawns, I race home from work, just in time to fling open the front door, welcome my visitor and … open a bottle of fizz. Two glasses down, we grab a uber into town and head through the school gates into a foyer of: canapes, bucks fizz and a bustle of ‘old girls.’ Amidst the crowds we find other members of our class, listen to some speeches, potter around the school, laugh over our old class register and then…head for the pub.

It is great to see everyone and catch-up, face to face. Wonderful women, funny and smart, who are living life with all its ups and downs, (mostly ups). And it is hilarious to look back together; the infamous ‘ouija board’ affair, some notable vocal performances, old romances, the occasional teacher-crush and we find that, whilst we can still parrot off each other’s childhood landline numbers, nobody can agree on who our fourth year form tutor was!

It’s also just nice to let my hair down over a few drinks. Well, I say a few but as we stumble back into the house, my sober offspring later tell me, I am doing impressions of my brothers and reminiscing about the day Elvis died ! I still cannot remember much of that and, ruefully concede that I should probably have heeded Women’s Health’ s school reunion tip number 10, “Go Easy on the Alcohol!”

The next day, thankfully a planning away-day, is not my finest hour. But, on balance, I decide, very much worth it. Were school days the ‘best days of my life’? Well, whether they were or were not, that is definitely the most fun I’ve had on a Thursday evening ‘school night’ for a very long time. Here’s to the next time ladies …

Strawberry breakfast …

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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 …

Time to stop running…

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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!

There’s just something about a new washing machine …

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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!

Here comes the sun…

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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…

I was looking for a job…

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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 …