October

When to teach kids about money?

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Tuesday 24 October 2023

Invest, save or spend? Cash or crypto? Stick to the budget.. or ‘live for the moment’? In a cost of living crisis, managing money has never seemed more bewildering. But what to teach our kids…and when?

That’s what I’m challenged to think about in the ‘Money Matters’ talk at the Ilkley Literature Festival this weekend. The engaging speakers, from the Bank of England and the Financial Times, know their stuff and breathe life into what could have been a very dry hour.

Both are passionate about having financial education on the school curricula, which I am happy to report is already in place, usually delivered during personal development lessons. And there are some terrific projects out there; at my place of work, these have been so popular that annual feedback from pupils consistently asks for more input in this area.

The growth of creative ideas to interest pupils in thinking about economics is most welcome. Rishi Sunak may think that school is the place enable teenagers to “feel confident” with …. things like mortgage deals. More experienced educators however, who in previous years were tasked with dragging a room of 14 year-olds through a grim hour of ‘fixed rate’ or ‘interest only’ deals for first time buyers, would argue that this suggestion misses the most valuable of marks. If you want school children to listen… make it relevant!

And the financial gurus in Ilkey chime fervently with this. Of course, teach about saving and borrowing; with money in short supply, the temptation to ‘buy now and pay later’ is a real danger for young people. But (and it is a big BUT) do it in relation to something that pupils are interested in. As an example, the experts addressing the Ilkey gathering, tell us that, for one teacher in Wales this was Hair Extensions; Nicola Buter’s innovate lesson, addressing the complex world of finance, loans and interest, winning her the Interactive Investor Personal Finance Teacher of the Year Award.

Nicola Butler: winner of Interactive Investor Personal Finance Teacher of the Year Award 2021

A quick google search also yields a wealth of advice on financial first steps for toddlers and teenagers. Of course Martin Lewis is there. As early as 2007, his Teen Cash Class, promoted the use of key mantras when working with young people to break the ‘impulse buying cycle’. To be honest it is useful for anyone! When contemplating a spur of the moment buy, ask yourself,

Do I need it?

Can I afford it?

Can I get it cheaper somewhere else

The conclusion to this chapter is particularly thought-provoking and I’ll certainly be both internalising it … as well as sharing it with my offspring,

‘If I were able to give you back all the money you’ve ever spent buying things on impulse,
would you take the cash and hand over the stuff?’

Of course we would!

With most spending now migrating online, Lewis’ site also promotes the free guide from Internet Matters, Online money management tips to support young people.

There is guidance for younger children too, for whom finance usually means small amounts of pocket money. Barclays Bank, as one example among many, have designed a nice set of pocket money activities called ‘How to teach your child about money’

So engaging, fun and time-relevant for our children? Is that problem solved? Alas no, there is a snag! At some point, many will have to grapple with mortages, debts, pensions and bills. Some may be in a position to think of investments too. So when do we teach them about this? And, being honest, how many of us would actually feel equipped to do so?

For me, adult education is no different to that of school children; it needs to be relevant. Otherwise, finance can simply be a huge bore. So any advice is best received when it is needed. Hence, in many situations, that means after leaving school. So who do adults turn to?

‘Martin Lewis‘ I hear you cry, and, absolutely – the man is amazing! We could also read books and try to wade through the financial newspapers. However, can we do better than this? Many of these topics are complex and would benefit from a more interactive delivery and discussion. So here’s my question. On this most grown-up of issues, could and should FE/HE providers and employers make that contribution to our financial education?

Can companies deliver impartial training on pensions for all new employees? Should potential first time buyers be mandated to complete a free course, designed by the lenders, on managing a mortgage, looking at tips such as ‘over-payment’ to reduce the debt? How much guidance can we expect from universities about living on a student loan? How about challenging the DWP to design lessons on ‘surviving on benefits‘ or ‘escaping the poverty trap‘? And as for crypto …!

Questions questions questions! I set out in this this post to explore when to tell our kids about money matters. Isn’t the truth that in an ever-changing world, our leaders also need to think about what and when to tell all of us about this most important of areas?

Improved financial literacy cannot all be addressed with a couple more years of mathematics on the school curriculum. Additionally, some guidance would be more engaging to people now at a stage in life when the information is pertinent. Surely some well thought out work-based education be the best place for input? It could reduce financial stress, contribute to a more prosperous society … hey, we could even educate our children better. Wouldn’t that be a win for everyone?

Orange wine?

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Saturday 21 October 2023

Red, white rose or …orange?

Step outside your usual comfort zone and who knows what you will discover? For me, over the last few days it was French composers, the evolution of dolphins from land-living mammals and … the titular orange wine!

My voyage of discovery begins on Thursday with a French soiree of chamber music, cheese and (very red) wine! Music, alcohol plus a generous helping of brie and camembert… quite frankly what’s not to love? And it is a terrific evening. Have I hit the jackpot with a companion who is ‘happy to drive’? It certainly is a treat to indulge in a second interval-glass of Bordeaux! Even so, the icings on this particular ‘gateau’ are the short and well-crafted talks we get about each piece of music. I learn about neo-classicism, le prix de Rome and the fact that, even in the 20th Century, some female composers still chose to write with male pen names. One such was Louise-Marie Simon (30 November 1903 – 7 March 1990), published as Claude Arrieu,

Employing a common response to the pervasive sexism that has hobbled women’s careers across
time, Louise Marie Simon adopted a pseudonym: Claude Arrieu. Although she did not hide her
use of this pen name, it smoothed the path for publication of her music and facilitated
professional advancement.

Printed in programme notes for Kansas Symphony Orchestra 2021

Rediscovering how much I enjoy gaining new knowledge bodes well, as half-term dawns and I drive over to Yorkshire to catch up with family and also to attend the Ilkley Literature Festival. This epic event is celebrating its 50th anniversary and features talks by many famous names from the world of writing, broadcasting and research. It also has a perfect setting. Ilkley is a bustling spa town crowned as the ‘best place to live in the UK’ by the Sunday Times in 2022, and I can vouch that the plethora of bars and eateries is an absolute delight.

So we mix talks with plenty of food and beer. As we emerge from the final presentation, about the physics of the deep ocean, my mind is scrambled with Humboldt currents, the politics of guano (bird poo) and the revelation (for me at any rate) that some sea-based creatures evolved from land-based hoofed mammals, and we decide that a final glass of wine is in order.

And that’s when it happens. I am asked if I want,

“Red, white, rose or …orange wine?“

Orange wine… orange? Maybe I’m just late to this vino-party, but who knew? I ask what it is and learn that it is white wine made with ‘skin contact‘.

“As in orange skin?”

chirps in one of my beer-ed up companions. The patient sommelier smiles as he tells us

“No, the skin of the grape!“

Only I am bold enough to try it and I like it … though if blindfolded, in a taste test, am not sure I’d be able to distinguish it from a regular white. Maybe I should try a few more and The Olive Magazine, is on hand to guide the fledgling orange wine supper!

All in all, a fantastic few days. Good food and drink, great company and the chance to learn (and taste) new things … my idea of perfect!

First steps …

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Saturday 14 October 2023

First steps; often so exciting. When a toddler starts to move, maybe tottering unsteadily across the room it is a moment! Cameras are out, grandparents are called and social media posts launched to mark the milestone. We are super proud that our child has found the courage to ‘take -off’ and, moreover, we also know that this one tentative toddle signals the start of great opportunity. Suddenly, independence, adventure and a world of possibility beckons. (Before I get too carried away, newer parents take note, it is now also the moment to lock away anything breakable… at least for the next 15 years!)

But first steps can also be the most difficult. Roll the clock forward into the teen years and adult-hood and life is still throwing down the gauntlet of new challenges and unexpected curveballs and, whilst I cannot remember how it felt to take my first steps as a toddler, I can affirm that, as a grown-up, this often feels a bit overwhelming.

For inspiration, I often recall one treasured survivor on my children’s bookshelves; the genius of Michael Rosen’s Bear Hunt! Of course our journey through the world will bring us to our own version of snowstorms, rivers and swamps and situations that we were not expecting and, yes, we may feel ‘scared’ but there is usually only one way out of the problem.

“Oh no we’ve got to go through it!”

And ‘going through it’ means getting started!

So this week in our house, I resolve to engage with the arthritis exercises sent to me by the GP three weeks ago. Previously I’d cast them aside, refusing to accept that I was old and arthritic and hoping the pain and stiffness might just magically disappear. When it didn’t, I gave the sheet a cursory glance but sneered at the notion of a ‘few leg raises’ replacing the fitness I’d enjoyed with a weekly 10K run. Then, by chance, in an episode of ‘Strictly come Dancing’, one of the celebrities, who is many years younger than me, revealed that he suffers from arthritis and it inspired me to ‘get a grip’ and root out my doctor’s advice. When I finally read the instructions properly and challenge myself to step up and down 2 staircase-steps at a time

‘until you can do no more… then repeat 4 times’

I have to concede that this seemingly innocuous set of exercises is actually a blinking strenuous workout. My ‘first step‘ of trying one activity quickly turns into a full 40 minutes of movement and stretches. I’m sweating and breathless by the end and …it feels fantastic!

In a different corner of the house, Small Boy, is struggling to get started with his UCAS form, because this means having to make decisions about Universities which he has been grappling with all Summer. Where does he actually want to go, where does the poor lad think I or his dad want him to go…where does college think he should go? It is as murky a swamp as he’s faced for quite some time. But… we’ve got to go through it…

So we take a first step. I set him the task of completing the simple parts of the form: name, address, high school, hobbies etc. Once started, however, he polish off and attaches a personal statement. Then, buoyed with success, confidently clicks into the Universities section to face the dreaded shortlist of five. As I write, he’s added 4, because, as we wrote down ‘all the options’ together, it transpires that there were actually only six . He emails a college tutor about deciding between the final 2 and his relief is tangible – it is finally done!

Well, that was this week. I am sure that next will throw up some more challenges and worries. Let’s just hope that we can stick together and keep taking that first step every time a new lake, snowstorm or swamp appears…

When the Tories came to town…

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Friday 6 October 2023

Whilst the ‘red wall’  crumbled in the 2019  General Election, it remained relatively intact in Manchester, which makes the decision of Rishi and his right wingers to sweep into town, for their 2023 Conference, a rather odd choice. But what did we learn as the governing party descended onto our doorstep…

UK Election Map 2019

On conference eve, Saturday 30 September, rumours of the axing of the Northern third of the HS2 project are already circulating. Meanwhile, I set out to the theatre to watch Tanika Gupta’s adaptation of Great Expectations.

It is stunning; a narrative true to Dickens’ original tale (and what a tale!) but set in Bengal around the era of partition. The music and aromas of India make for a beautiful production and the skilful interweaving of the two cultures intensifies the themes of social mobility, love, and justice with additional layers of colonialism and racial tension. At times, the insults hurled at native Pipli (Pip) by the young Estella, brimming with loathing for his ‘smell’ and ‘greasy hair’ and nationality make for uncomfortable listening. They do however make us look at the classic tale with fresh eyes and new relevance.

As we spill out in to the mild Autumn night, to wend our way home, the audience is a buzz. The mood on the streets lively, as the city has also hosted ‘Busted’ at the Arena and the BBC Philharmonic at the Bridgwater Hall this evening. The trams are, mercifully,  fantastically frequent.

‘Thank the Lord for a decent local transport system’, think I,

But what news on those intercity links?

The next morning, grey clouds are gathering  across the skies, but do they foreshadow the events that are to unfold?

Rishi appears on ‘Sunday with Laura Kuenssberg‘. From a Salford studio, a stones throw from the centre of Manchester, the proposed destination for the HS2 London link, he is asked repeatedly about the rumours that the project it to be pulled. There is no straight answer forthcoming,

 “I’m not going to comment on all this speculation. We’ve got a project, we’ve got spades in the ground and we’re getting on with it but it’s right to focus on levelling up.”

Two days later, in a diversion from talk of trains, we get Suella Braverman. It is hardly light relief! In fact, if I found some of the language in Great Expectations unpleasant, as Suella hits her vocal stride, I feel my jaw hit the floor in shock. In a speech, described as ‘unhinged‘ by the Guardian, the, reportedly, wannabe leader of the true-blues, rains down bile and hatred on liberalism, the human rights bill and … of course foreigners, warning of a ‘hurricane‘ of mass migration coming to the UK. 

And we end with Rishi himself, using his speech to finally confirm the worst kept secret of the week; that the high speed rail link will now only run from London to Birmingham. There’s no apology, rather in a defiant patronising piece of rhetoric, Sunak expects ‘northerners’ to be grateful, as he commits to spending ‘every penny‘ of the money saved on levelling up projects across the north.

Does anyone believe a word of it?  Well let me tell you of one such proposal in our town. They announce funding of a tram extension to Manchester Airport which, as the MEN points out … already exists!

“This will come as a shock to those who’ve been using the Metrolink line to Manchester airport since [checks notes]…. November 2014”

Come on Rishi! If you want a shred of credibility, do your blinking homework!

Perhaps he just doesn’t care. Any old back of a fag-packet rubbish, (don’t panic PM, I am still currently of legal age for cigarettes) will do to keep us quiet! If they perpetuate the narrative that these afterthoughts represent great opportunity for the beleaguered regions, do they hope, we will start to buy it? 

It worked for Miss Haversham and Estella,

“Her contempt was so strong, that it became infectious, and I caught it.”

Pip in Great Expectations: C Dickens

let’s hope the residents of the North are more resilient.

The Tory circus rolls out of town after that, and this resident is not sorry to see them go. Very much like Dickens’ ruling classes, the disconnect between our government and the lives of so many of us feels unbridgeable now. They bestowed neither cheer nor respect upon our region and they brought some awful weather with them! Foreboding skies and incessant rain dogged the city throughout their stay. But this weekend is warmer and feels more optimistic. There is after all a general election next year…

Great-Aunt Becky…

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Sunday 6 November 2022

A week of fantastic news for our family. My mum’s post-surgery histology report is positive. Her cancer has not spread, which is a terrific relief and means radiotherapy, not chemotherapy. And one of my niece’s has her first baby, a beautiful little boy. I set out to find a gift and am happily strolling around the aisles of new-born fashion; cosy baby-grows, adorable fleecy pram-suits, little dungarees… when my phone pings. It’s my eldest child…

” Congratulation Great-Aunt Becky!”

Great-Aunt Becky.. well wrap me up in woollen shawl and lace me into a pair of stout shoes … I sound positively ancient!

Yes into my head pops the image of ‘great-aunt Lucy‘, Paddington Bear’s aged guardian from ‘Darkest Peru!’

To my dismay, when I reacquaint myself with the writings of dear Michael Bond, it transpires that lovely Lucy, with her fading fur, felt hat and wicker basket, is only a regular aunt, an entire generation younger than my new familial role. Indeed, mention of great-aunts of any kind, in our literary annals is notably sparse and, I now discover that aunts themselves … well to put it mildly have a bit of an image problem.

Aunt ‘Em, from the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the once pretty young wife now ‘grayed‘ by her tough life on the Kansas farm. The villainous Aunt Spiker and Aunt Sponge from James and the Giant Peach, and the cruel Mrs Reed, aunt to Jane Eyre who opens the novel with the shocking scenes of the small orphaned girls locked up in the mysterious Red Room after defending herself against her bullying cousin.

Gracious… maybe literature was the wrong direction to look to for inspiration. After all, idyllic family units rarely rear children suited to the kind of adventures that heroes such as, Paddington, Dorothy, James and Jane must face to make the plot a winner.

And a label such as ‘Great-Aunt’ does not have to define us! Why, I recall, my chest modestly puffed out with pride, sporting a new green top, I was recently described as ‘stylish’ and ‘the cool mum‘ by my daughter’s flatmates. On the other hand, I tell my niece, I am quite happy for our wonderful new arrival just to refer to me as ‘Becky’!

Getting life in perspective …

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Sunday 23 October 2022

My mum has her first surgery and comes home to recover. It is not the end of the story. Hey this is the big C, is it ever going to be the end of the story? But for now; just right now, before Tuesday’s hospital visit and next Monday’s operation results, the cloud that has defined the last few weeks lifts and I feel… happy!

Yes, not just ‘okay‘, the luke-warm version of wellbeing I often settle for, but actually properly happy. My mind is only lightness, my mood upbeat, and all the little things in life seem joyful.

I do nothing special with the weekend. On Saturday, I run with my run buddy. Small boy and I hang out in the garden hot tub, putting the world to rights. I cook curry for my mum and drink some (appalling) fizz a work colleague gave me mid-week. On Sunday, we take the tram into town to shop Dinner Jackets for a family wedding, mooch around the music stores and browse the book shops. The Squares are decorated with dainty Halloween lanterns. We dine on Pad Thai noodles, steak sandwiches and terrible pies and … it feels fantastic!

I guess it’s relief, a welcome respite from the stress and worry of the previous weeks. Or possibly one of those profound pauses in life when you (momentarily alas) cast aside the trivia that often takes up so much our time and focus instead on the things, and most importantly, the people who really matter. ‘Getting life in perspective’, I think it’s called. Well for however long it lasts…I am going to enjoy it…

The big C…

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Thursday 8 October 2022

Thursday 8 October; a day I’ll never forget! After a couple of weeks of wondering and waiting my mum gets confirmation that she has breast cancer and my world is rocked to its foundation …

At the moment they think it is stage 1 and treatable, but the initial diagnosis has thrown us into a world of further tests and scans, so at the moment I just have everything crossed for ‘no new information’, because I realise that I am simply not yet ready for anything more serious.

For my mum is quite a character; a huge personality brimming with life, mischief and incredible kindness. Ever present, energetic and exuding a sense of immortality…except of course … no-one is… none of us lasts forever and in the past week, as we waited in limbo for the results of biopsies and radiographs, the vision of a world that did not include her hit me like a train.

So when, at orchestra a few days ago, she risked sending me a mildly obscene gesture and cheeky smile as someone asked, for about the 20th time, ‘what bar we are going from?’… it brought a lump to my throat. Whirring round and round in my mins was the voice that said, what if that’s the last time we are at a rehearsal together and I see her face grinning across the room?

Ansd last Sunday night when she called incensed, to discuss the Strictly Come Dancing results show, I wobbled again.

What if …….?

On this occasion, I panicked so much that I cancelled my plans for this Saturday night and arranged instead to go around for a ‘Strictly viewing party’, because suddenly every moment with mum felt too precious to waste. And all the little things… those tiny details we often take for granted … well I realised how important and special they truly are.

So the initial cautious diagnosis, and treatment plan almost comes as a relief from the far grimmer scenarios I thought we might be facing.

I am aware, or course, that no surgery will be easy, as she is over 80. In fact mum’s first question to the consultant is,

“I didn’t know that anyone my age could get cancer!”

Alas; they. In fact, the National Library of Medicine reports that ‘one in ten’ breast cancer patients are over the age of 80. If there is a mixed message, it arises from the cessation of the screening programme at the age of 70 in the UK. This does not, as I’ll admit I thought, indicate a reduction in risk rather that the increase in other health risks results in the programme not longer being cost-beneficial for the NHS.

Let’s be thankful that mum’s cancer seems, at this point in time, to have been found quickly.

For now, I hope and put on a brave face; brave for mum and brave for my children. And only occasionally, usually as I am on my own in the car, do a let a small tear fall ….

Middlesbrough

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Saturday 1 October2022

When your children spread their wings and head off to live and study in other towns and cities, one very nice outcome for you as a parent is the chance to travel to and explore these new places too…

My Eldest is on placement in Middlesborough this year. Whilst she will admit to missing the bright lights of Newcastle, one upside is that she is a good hour closer the me than usual, so it is very easy to pop over for a day visit. And that is exactly what I do this weekend.

“What shall we do first?” asks my girl, as I rap on the door of her student house around midday.

“Food please!” I reply, hungry after my drive to this corner of North Yorkshire.

A short 5-minute stroll takes us to a great cafe where it is the famous local delicacy ‘parmo’ for my daughter and a truly delicious three-bean chilli for me. So good is the food that I am tempted to try the pudding menu. But my eldest is full and I ruefully remember, my (pretty ambitious) quest to get back into a dress I last wore in the previous millennium(!) for my niece’s wedding so I too forgo a further course.

Instead, we wander into the town centre and waste a happy half hour shopping small luxuries that are beyond a student budget but well within ‘mum-treating’ range.

It is briefly back to the student house to drop our purchases before we hop into the car to explore a ‘pretty beach‘ my Eldest has passed on her weekly GP visits.

And so it is that I discover Saltburn; what a little gem! We park the car in front of an elegant terrace of Victorian grandeur and descend to the cove beneath. Marked out by the imposing Hunt Cliff, the beach may well have been a centre for smugglers in a bygone era, but today is the perfect spot for a bracing walk along the windswept sands. Despite it being the first day of October, hardy children are playing in the streams and paddling in the sea, you could probably surf on a slightly warmer day. We traverse the sands and rocks and then reward ourselves with a drink in a bar overlooking the sea.

Thereafter it is back up the very steep hill to the car and as we stop to catch our breath, we spot the far better way to make this ascent; the Saltburn Cliff Tramway. This small tram-car, was first opened in 1884 to replace a vertical hoist and is now the oldest water balanced funicular still in operation in Great Britain. It is a must for our next visit!

As the Autumn sun begins to fade, we return to the student house and, after a fine cup of tea, I it is time for me to head home. What a lovely way to spend a Saturday …

Autumn Half Term 2021

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It may be work on Monday, but that is still two days away which make it the perfect time to look back on a great half term, visiting ‘the students’ ….

Monday sees us powering up the A1 to return my Eldest to Uni, after she descended upon Manchester for a gig at the weekend. Small boy and I stay over, tucked into a B &B in the heart of student land and allow my daughter to ‘show us the sites’. We stroll around the Dene, with its waterfall and mill, we wander the University campus, seeking out the ‘Old Library’ where, nearly 2 years ago we came for ‘the interview’ and … over curry and wine, we meet the boyfriend (which, I think goes very well!)

Tuesday, after a post-lecture lunch with our lovely girl, we hit the road once more; destination Edinburgh and Prom-dress Daughter…

Gosh it is wet and wild in the Scottish capital and parking… just a night mare! I have a £60 PCN on my windscreen within 15 minutes of arrival. But all of that just evaporates away as a familiar smiling face bounces into our city centre hotel room and whisks us out for food … and cocktails. The next day, my two younger teens spend happy hours together perusing local bookshops. All three of us ‘nearly’ see the Art Gallery… come to think of it, I ‘nearly saw’ it about 15 years ago too, on an Edinburgh weekend with a best friend. On that occasion we got side tracked by the bar; this time it is the more wholesome excuse of covid- secure tickets selling out!

‘Never mind,…’ I cry recalling my previous visit, ‘…even if we can’t do the Gallery itself, the gift shop is great!’

And, to offspring who love to hear those retail tills ringing, the gift shop does indeed prove a hit; and maybe it is this very moment that catalyses a spell of clothes shopping too! Small boy perfects his ‘oversized clothes’ look with a pair of very (very) large jeans and Prom-dress Daughter, who has managed to shrink most of her clothes in the student launderette, gratefully seizes an opportunity to boost her wardrobe.

All too soon it is Thursday and Small boy and I must bid farewell to yet another family member and turn the car towards England once more. I detour via the Lake District, where my son is meeting up with his Dad for a few days, and by now, as heavy rain, foretold in ‘amber warning’ forecasts, viciously sweep across the North of the UK it proves quite a trip for us all. My Ex -hub is delayed by vehicle fires in one direction and we have to navigate several road floods in the other. Eventually, several hours behind schedule, Small boy is handed over … at a truck stop and I head home!

And the fun is not over for me either, for I am not the only parent with offspring in Higher Education. One of my very best friends now has a child at a Northern University, which gives us the perfect opportunity to meet up too – hooray! She comes to stay with me for a couple of days.We drink plenty of wine, she catches -up with her lovely family and as the younger generation leave for their own parties and social events, we head into Media City for a bit of culture at the Van Gogh alive exhibition and… wow!! I can, and will, post pictures but to appreciate this incredible show, you need to go in person. I can best describe it as a ‘concert of art‘; as we are enveloped in a vibrant,visual exploration of Van Gogh’s art and life with a gorgeous, rich musical soundtrack to stir the emotions and give the experience a magical and immersive quality. We watch wide eyed and open mouthed and just love it!

But as Saturday dawns, my friend too must drive homeward. Small boy returns and we collect Boris the Gecko from his boarding quarters at the local pet shop. I decide that I like half terms … a lot! Work will start again on Monday but for now.. I am already dreaming of my next school holiday …

“We holiday not to escape life, but for life not to escape us.”

Books I love because of my children…

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Saturday 23 October 2021

Dame Jacqueline Wilson is on the radio this morning, talking about a concert with the BBC Symphony Orchestra to celebrate her books and, if I lived in London, I would have set out to the Barbican right there and then to get a ticket! Because, I love her writing. Lively characters who just dance off the page and plots that hook you from opening chapter and are ‘can’t put this down‘ engaging. But here is the thing; I didn’t read these books as a child. No, I chanced upon her through my own children. At bedtimes, we’d read them together and she made such times magical and a truly (unexpected but) delightful parental treat. So, as I sit in my lounge with a large cup of coffee, I decide to indulge and look back at my other favourite finds from the, ‘reading to your children’ years…

Now, to be clear, my favourite quartet are not necessarily the books my children read the most. Small Boy’s obsession with ‘Captain Underpants‘ and the ‘Hunger Games‘ era, when I barely saw my eldest without a book for weeks, are not titles I read a single word of. Why? Because by this stage my offspring had moved into the realms of independent literary appreciation and I simply left them and their imaginations to it. The delicious time for me to discover new children’s authors and to venture once again into the fantastic world of children’s fiction was a far narrower window. It came in the short span of years when I read to my trio of toddlers and it was here, amongst the cherished jewels I still hold dear from my own childhood, that I uncovered new titles, great new writers and, just as I had done as a child, set off on amazing new adventures.

And so it was that I was introduced to Dame Jacqueline Wilson. I picture my two girls racing up to their attic room, fluffy and clean from bathtime, to dive under the covers ready for the next chapter of ‘Double Act‘ or the ‘The Illustrated Mum‘ and I’d be as excited as them, because she is such a terrific writer that, never mind the kids, I simply couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. Dare I confess to occasionally reading on, even after both of them had drifted off to sleep? For me her gift was to draw you in, hook, line and sinker, to the world of her young characters and make you care for them completely. My absolute favourite, ‘Best Friends‘, stayed in my head and heart for days and I do recall my two little daughters staring at me wide-eyed as I stumbled to the end, my voice choking on that final chapter.

But I’ve already hinted at four, so here are my other three:

Judith Kerr; oh my goodness I still feel a tingle of excitement at the sound or sight of ‘The Tiger who came to Tea‘. A family member gifted the children an edition complete with a tiny china tea set that we would fill with water to act out the famous ‘tea scene’ as my trio of toddlers would ask me to read it again and again and again. Every word was a joy but my most-loved scene was always this one; the mother’s calm response to what should have been the strangest request she was ever going to receive, ‘Do you think I could have tea with you?’ asks the tiger, ‘Of course, come in’ says mum! More learned critics than I have hypothesised in depth about this little book, reflecting Kerr’s own childhood experiences in Nazi Germany, but this is my favourite point because it is at this moment that you cast aside adulthood and become a child again. Because in a child’s ‘imaginative play ‘ this is exactly what would happen to keep the game going. Why there is a large carnivorous predator at the door… come on in, we’ll find you a cup and plate and make conversation!

The Tiger who came to Tea: Judith Kerr

And onto Lauren Childs and her inspirational creation Clarice Bean. One of my friends passed on these books, as her own daughter grew out of them, whereupon we all fell in love with Clarice (and Betty Moody and Mrs Wilberton). So much so, in fact, that this one made it onto audio book version for the car and turned long dreary car journeys into a delightful escape into the imagination. So funny, so sharp and such brilliant writing that the tying together of all the crazy capers and plot lines would keep us guessing until the final page. Having listened to it so many times, I can probably recite huge chunks verbatim and the best ‘Clarice quotes’ live on in our household even now, and why wouldn’t they …

“I say ‘Mom, how come you don’t change into an evening gown for dinner?’ She says ‘I do, it’s called a bath robe.

Lauren Child, Utterly Me, Clarice Bean

And to finish, JK Rowling, Harry Potter and well …what an incredible read. Her words filled my head with pictures and my heart with emotion. Perhaps more so than any other writer she took me back to that feeling I had as a child of ‘living in a book’. Yes, below the age of 10, with my head perennially stuck in an Enid Blyton, I’d often appear to be present in the room but the truth was that I was nearly always not really there! No, I’d be away on Kirrin Island with the Famous Five, or in the dormitories of Malory Towers with Darryl and Sally. And Harry Potter did this for me again. She was also my first find of the ‘reading to your children years’… in fact it is a faintly ridiculous tale.

As I was pregnant with my eldest, I foolishly told my husband that the midwife had proclaimed it ‘never too early’ to start reading to your babies. Read to them in the womb! Read to them when they are a day old! They won’t know what you are reading so read anything; it could be the perfect time to read ‘War and Peace’. Well my husband decided that it was the perfect time for me to read ‘Lord of the Rings‘. Quite why I agreed, I’ll never know but, as we brought my Eldest home I did indeed, every evening cradle her in my arms and subject her to Tolkien. Yes I ploughed my way through all three of those lengthy tomes, engaging with the story of Frodo and Sam, but finding all the complicated names, tribes and battles for power tortuous on occasion. However, by the time Prom-dress daughter appeared, the cursed ring was safely consumed in the fires of Mordor and I was free; free to meet Harry, Ron and Hermoine! Well what a difference. From the second the Hogwarts Express drew into the platform, I was addicted, gripped and invested. I devoured those books whether I had any children to listen to me or not! The books sparkled, fired the imagination, flooded my head with lavish images and, at time, pulled my heart from my chest. Reading to my toddlers became a cherished half hour of the day when I, as much as them, escaped from the stresses, strains and toil that parenting small children can bring.

Gosh, great memories! My teens are all grown-up now and for me, the world of children’s books is a closed chapter once again but not forever I hope… roll on the grandchildren years….