Wednesday 7 April 2010

differences

Spring has sprung here in the UK, I know this because the evenings are lighter (partly due to the clocks springing forward as British summertime begins), there are Daffodils and Tulips adorning most gardens and it feels comfortably warm unless of course you happen to be in the shade with a sharp wind blowing in your face.
With the warmer weather on the horizon I inevitably witness the premature display of shorts, tattoos, bare navels, thongs and builders cleavages, while some may find these attractive, I am certainly not one of them, particularly when I am trying to concentrate on my shopping trolley in the local supermarket.
A female (I can't use the word lady) of approximately forty something caught my attention in my local branch of Tesco recently, she had on a pair of white trousers which were hung so low that very little was left to the imagination, there was more of her backside hanging out of her trousers than was tucked in, as if that wasn't bad enough underneath these trousers (?) was an off white thong which sat about two inches above.
The thought of her near bare bottom brushing up against the fruit and vegetables is enough to make you want to go on the Atkins diet, I am no prude, far from it but this is a blatant display of bad taste. If this woman were to go shopping topless she would be asked to cover up (probably by an officer of the law) but to display her backside in this way seems to be totally acceptable.
As I carried on with my shopping (trying to turn a blind eye) I turned the aisle and my nostrils were offended by the most ghastly smell which seemed to be coming from a very dirty looking, greasy haired untidy person with sweat and food stains on his overstretched tea shirt, as I suspected, it was the smell of the unwashed.
What is wrong with these people? Where is their pride? They cannot see themselves as others see them.
I have been taught that "not everyone is like you, and not everyone aspires to be like you", I can accept that, the world would be a very dull place if everyone were like me or even if everyone were the same, but in this day and age when running water is readily available there is no excuse.
Baths were not taken daily when I was a child, Mum had to light the fire to get hot water, we bathed on a Sunday so we were clean and ready for school on a Monday morning, the rest of the time we sat on the draining board with our feet in the sink to have a wash down, but we were never dirty, Mum wouldn't let us be, our faces shone with Wrights coal tar soap.
I'm not old yet I do feel that in many cases standards have dropped since mine and my childrens childhood, we had to ask to get down from the table after eating, and generally we weren't allowed to get down until everyone else had finished eating, even then we felt obliged to offer to help with the washing up, not something I was too keen on I must say.
If we didn't like what was on our plates then we were going to be very hungry until our next meal, there was no snacking in those days.
It sound a harsh world but we had it easy compared to our parents but that's another story.
I wonder what my Grandparents would say .......

Sunday 28 March 2010

Facebook

Facebook: "If you work for British Airways and have been on strike this week, next time you see a soldier who's returned from Afghanistan make sure you tell him/her about your awful working conditions, poor uniform and low pay!! let me know how you get on....copy and paste this for all our troops"

Sunday 14 March 2010

Mothering Sunday

This is the first blog for me and it seems I already have a follower so welcome to my blog Jimmy, if that's your real name, I have my suspicions about that.
I have been pondering about the subject of my first blog, I would like it to be relevant to the day of writing and as it is Mothering Sunday here in the UK, I have decided to witter a bit about that.
I no longer buy a Mothers day card as my dear Mum passed on in September 2006 and of course it doesn't have to be Mothering Sunday for me to remember her, she is in my head and my heart every day of the year.
I remember as a young girl asking her when childrens day was and without pausing for thought she told me that every day was childrens day, it wasn't quite the answer I was expecting, I thought there was a magical date on the calendar especially set aside for the spoiling of children but alas it was not to be.
She was absolutely right though, every day was and still is childrens day, we were loved, cared for, tucked into a comfy bed at night, waited on and cooked for, we were spoilt yes, but not with gifts as money was tight in those days but we were spoilt with love.
On Mum's headstone are the words "Remembered with a smile" how apt those words are, as much as we feel sad for our loss we still smile when we think of her, I remember her warmth and kindness, the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair and much much more.
I arrived home from work late Saturday evening and the most beautiful smell filled the house, there on the table was a beautiful bouquet of flowers in my best vase, placed there by my youngest son. My eldest son has promised me he will come to see me today and I have just seen him outside the house complete with bouquet of flowers, thankfully no chocolates, I will be holidaying in Turkey in six weeks and would like to be slightly smaller by then.
I am dedicating this first blog to my own lovely Mum and to all the lovely Mums, those that are still here and those that have sadly passed and to the heartbroken sons and daughters they have left behind.