Inspiration for a generation

I’ll be honest: I wasn’t looking forward to the Olympic Games. Sport isn’t something I’m a huge fan of, and the talk of how over-budget they were going coupled with how much money huge sponsors were making, was making me pretty resentful of the whole affair.

However, all my doubts had melted away by the time I had finished watching the opening ceremony. If only Paul McCartney’s rendition of ‘Hey Jude’ could be wiped from my memory, I would say the night was a perfect representation for Britain. It put paid to the naysayers and was the start of what has been a riveting couple of weeks of FANTASTIC sport!

It’s had plenty of highs, some lows, lots of nail-biting-edge-of-your-seat moments, and, most importantly of all, I think it has achieved the goal it set out to in it’s tag-line- it has ‘inspired a generation.’

I’ve seen kids around my home town taking part in some of the fantastic Council run play schemes over the holidays, enjoying racing, hurdling, throwing bean bags (well, I wouldn’t arm a 6 year old with a javelin- would you?) and generally just enjoying being active. I have heard all sorts of stories from friends whose children have been moving furniture to ‘swim’ across the living room carpet or see how high or how far they can jump. My own children have been watching the games in absolute awe of the athletes taking part. My daughter told me excitedly that one day she wants to win a medal at ‘running and jumping over a stick’, in response to watching Jessica Ennis take part in the Heptathlon High Jump.

A few people I know were lucky enough to see the games in person, and though I’m sure it’s nowhere near as exciting, the TV coverage has been brilliant- my TV has threatened to go into standby on more than one occasion due to the back-to-back Olympic programming.

Awesome athletes like Mo Farah, Usain Bolt, Yohan Blake, Greg Rutherford, Tom Daley, Victoria Pendleton, Chris Hoy, and David Rudisha, to name just a few, have succeeded in raising the profile of their events considerably whilst realising their own personal goals- a fantastic achievement.

The most important message our children can take from these games though, is that winning is great, but even taking part is a massive achievement. All athletes, from Team GB and other nations, have shown amazing sportsmanship sometimes under extreme pressure or after massive disappointment, and always under the glare of the media. One athlete who summed it up perfectly was the swimmer Liam Tancock, who, after missing out on a medal in his event, the 100m backstroke, came out with a massive grin on his face and enthusiastically promoted his sport, saying:

” I love what I do – swimming is a great sport, it gives you so many friends and keeps you fit. [. . .] I was walking through the call room and it said ‘inspire a generation’. I hope that’s what Team GB are doing and I hope we inspire a future generation of swimmers and Olympians.”

Job done, Team GB. Job done.

'Z' is for 'Zzzzzzzzz...'

I'm in the unusual position today of having a few minutes of relative peace. Child one is at school, child two is watching a film in her bedroom and child three is asleep! (see pic). So I thought I'd use this time wisely. Options included cleaning, cooking or updating CV.... booooring. I've decided instead that it's about time I finished my A to Z posts. Ha! Take that, housework!

It's been all change in our household over the last few weeks- I decided to take redundancy from the job I've been in for the last nearly thirteen years and my husband has just started a new job. This has come as a bit of a shock for the girls who've become used to having Daddy at home and have now grumpy Mummy to contend with. 

The change is taking a bit of getting used to. I imagined lazy days of playing with the girls in between doing things like sorting the children's scrapbooks and photo albums, clearing out junk, days out in the sunshine and maybe even a bit of writing.

Sadly the reality is a bit different. For reasons I cannot fathom, I appear to have less time to do these things than I had when I was working. The sunshine has been very good at hiding. And, though I love my children dearly, there is no doubt, they are beasts!

Despite the obstacles, I still intend to do all these things, albeit a little bit slower than intended.

Watch this space. 

But only if you want to.

Really, it's not that interesting.

'Nothing to see here.'

'Y' is for 'Yampy'

I thought it was about time I got around to finishing the A to Z challenge! I know it's a bit late, but better late than never, eh? 

I don't know about anyone else doing the challenge, but I thought 'Y' was particularly difficult to find a word for. 'Yampy' sprang to mind though when my husband and I were taking the girls out on a shopping trip. Have you heard the word before? In our house we use it as a description for being a bit manic. I know what you're thinking- 'her girls couldn't possibly be manic, they're so quiet and reserved'. Ha ha! This is a video taken on the way back from aforementioned shopping trip...

Out of curiosity, I looked up the word 'Yampy' to see where it originated and what the actual definition is for it. Unsurprisingly, it originates from the West Midlands. The main dictionary definition I found was for 'a foolish person' but I was surprised at the definitions listed on the urban dictionary, some of them even more derogatory. Take a look here.

Just one example of the ambiguity of language. 

'X' is for 'Xylophone'

I know, 'Xylophone' isn't the most imaginative word for 'X', but Freya enjoyed it! I downloaded an app onto my phone for her to play us a little tune. It's amazing the things you can find on phones to keep kids amused. Freya has a drawing app, puzzles, a piano and now a xylophone app on my phone and bongo drums on her dads! It's just a shame we have to let her get her grubby mitts on our phones to play them- and it's not even as if they keep her quiet! No doubt I'll hear more of these little 'tunes' over the coming days....

'W' for 'Wee Willy Winkie'

I wanted a nice simple post for 'W' as this was Freya's second video in one night of catching up with the A to Z, and I know how cantankerous she can get if I ask too much of her! She seems to love singing nursery rhymes, so we chose the only one I could think of beginning with 'w' and asked her if she knew it. Here's the result....

'V' for 'Velociraptor'

Ever since out trip to the Natural History Museum in London, Freya has had a little obsession with dinosaurs, helped along by her big brother, who was exactly the same when he was her age. It's actually really sweet watching them playing together with things that interest them both- I'm making the most of it as Jo is soon to start senior school, so I'm under no illusions of it lasting for much longer.
Anyway, Freya made up this little story about a Velociraptor after getting excited looking at dinosaur pictures on the internet. You can tell from her voice how exciting she finds them....

'U' for 'Unicorn'

Gosh, I'm in serious catch-up mode now aren't I? Today's post was recorded on Tuesday evening. After making me search again for the right toys, Freya decided to tell us a little story about unicorns. If you've seen previous posts, you'll know Freya has a tendency to slip her finger up her nose on camera, and this was one of those occasions. She got all embarrassed when I told her off for doing it though, and the story came to an end. She refused to start again, so I've stuck to this version, bogeys and all....

'T' is for 'Twinkle Twinkle'.

Another old video today, as I'm in catch-up mode (Freya missed Saturday's, so did 'S' today- whoops). This one was found on her Daddy's phone; an 'entertaining' rendition of  the well known nursery rhyme, with keyboard too!

'S' is for 'Sing a Song of Sixpence'

Freya chose to sing another nursery rhyme for today's post. It took me a while to get her settled to do it as she insisted she held her bird while she sang it! After what seemed like an age of searching, the bird was located for it's star turn....

'R' is for 'Rainbow'

Brace yourselves... it's time for another musical post! Freya chose today's word, only she didn't want to sing the usual rainbow song we sing together, instead opting to compose her own. I know, I know. I realise you've only just got your hearing back after the last song she sang, but I actually thought her creation today was quite pretty, if a little repetitive. Crucially, though, it's a lot quieter.

'Q' is for 'Queen'

Today is another of Freya's stories. I gave her the word 'queen' and told her she could tell us any story she wanted. She seemed in a really happy mood, so I imagined a nice happy fairy tale with princes, princesses and a maybe a fairy godmother or two. I should learn never to try and predict my child, because what I ended up with was a little bit different....

'P' is for 'Pablo'

Another video from the archives today. This is one of our dog Pablo. He's been trying for years to get hold of a particular book of Freya's with a squeaky button that he took offence to as soon as I brought it home! I tried hiding it on bookshelves and even in boxes but he always seemed to know where it was. Eventually we gave in and decided to let him have it (purely for entertainment!). This is the result....

The book once Pablo was finished with it...

'O' is for 'Old MacDonald'

Today is another musical post. I won't bore you with an introduction as I'm sure most of you know the nursery rhyme. However, being Freya's version, this isn't just any old farm.....

'N' is for 'Naughty'

Freya, you'll be surprised to learn, can sometimes be naughty! Shock, horror! Of course, like most children, if you ask her, she'll claim to be an angel. I thought this is what she'd do when I filmed today's video. Failing that, I thought maybe she'd tell us about some of the naughty things she's done, as there have been a few! Instead, she went a bit surreal on me. She does that sometimes. I have no idea why but it keeps us entertained. For the record though, she's never horrendously naughty, just a little bit- and anyway, sometimes you *have* to be a little bit naughty!

'M' is for 'Mardy bum singing Matilda'

Today's post is another offering from the 'Archives of Freya'. I have captured a fair few moments on my phone over the last couple of years, and, looking through them, I've noticed there are fairly consistent themes; singing, dancing and arguing! This particular clip, as you've probably gathered from the title, has singing and arguing. As anyone who knows me is aware, we are huge fans of Matilda the Musical in our house, and it's the cast recording of this she is attempting to sing along to, but she's being hindered slightly by little sister Lola! 

'L' is for 'Lola'

I tried recording Freya and her little sister Lola for today's post, thinking it'd be really sweet to get them sitting together talking about the things they do. This ranges from playing nicely to all-but-killing each other, just like most sisters! But, being four and not-quite-two, it all ended in chaos. I won't inflict that video on you as I'm not sure whatever speakers you are using will cope with the high-pitched noises they emitted. I know my ears struggled. Instead, I had a look through other videos I've recorded of the two of them together, and found this little gem- the pair of them singing Mama Mia. Well, it's the tune anyway, not too sure about the words! NB: you may want to turn your speakers down for this one too!!  :-)

'J' & 'K'. JoJo, Kangaroos, and Koalas.

I've had to combine 'J' and 'K' into one post as Freya neglected her duties yesterday because she wanted to spend time with her Nana and Grandad. Honestly, you can't get the staff nowadays. When she finally returned today, she point-blank refused to do two separate videos!
She decided to talk about her brother Jo, and a trip we went on to see Kangaroos and Koalas when we were over in Australia in 2010 visiting family.
I should point out that part of the story Freya recounts here did not happen... I think it's fairly obvious which bit!

Some photo's of the Koala Freya & JoJo were lucky enough to cuddle. Her name was Pearl.  :)

'I' is for 'Irritated in Ikea'

Today's post title was decided earlier today over coffee with a friend. 'Ice cream in Ikea.' Sounds very civilised doesn't it? Only I didn't take into account that going to Ikea with three children in tow is a bloody nightmare! By the time her father and I (yes, it took two of us!) had shoe-horned Lola into a trolley, stopped Freya from jumping on every single slightly springy surface she could find, and listened to incessant chants of 'I want one of these Mummy', 'Look at this Mummy', 'I want a drink Mummy', 'I need the toilet Mummy', I was, unsurprisingly, in no mood for buying anyone ice cream. In fact, it's a small miracle I didn't just abandon them all once we reached the children's section. Nevertheless, Freya did (just) make it out alive to tell the tale of her day. She was still in a hyperactive mood when I recorded her, as you might tell from the latter half of today's video. And I'll apologise now for the finger-up-the-nostril incident. What can I say? She's no lady.

'H' is for 'Happy'

It took me a while to do today's blog as I had a hard job convincing Freya to talk about anything other than dinosaurs. Eventually I got her to tell me about things that make her happy. Number one? You guessed it- dinosaurs! Other things she mentioned were hugs and kisses from Mama and Dada, kisses on the head from her brother Jo, chocolate, and playing in her bedroom and not tidying up. She went on a bit, so I have cut down today's video to the last bit of our conversation, where she finished telling me about what made her happy and then started pulling faces and just being generally silly. That bit made me happy.

'G' is for 'Goosey Goosey Gander'

Due to a very busy weekend of baking, card making and visiting family, we've opted for a simple nursery rhyme to fulfill our 7th post for the A-Z challenge, (a day late too, oops!). 'Goosey Goosey Gander' was chosen on the basis it was the only one I could think of beginning with 'G'. Not very imaginative I know, but I think you'll agree, Freya does add a little something to it - different lyrics mainly!! Below is the original version of the rhyme, see if you can pick out her additions in the video....

Goosey goosey gander,
Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers,
So I took him by his left leg
And threw him down the stairs.

'F' is for 'Friday with Friends'

Today's post is a little late, as we've been winding down after a busy day spent at New Walk Museum in Leicester looking at dinosaurs! Annoyingly, 'D' has already been and gone, as it would have made today's title a little easier! 'Friday with Friends' seemed fitting enough though, as we did go with friends, and a fantastic time was had by all. I was hoping Freya would tell you all about it, but she was flagging by the time we got around to recording her, as she had spent the afternoon wandering around the museum drawing pictures of pretty much all the dinosaurs she saw!

Some pictures of our day....

Freya's drawing of the 'Barrow Kipper'

The 'Barrow Kipper' (Arranged for display by Arthur Cruickshank: I know some reading this blog may be interested in that!)

Little sister Lola

'E' is for 'Elephants Eating Easter Eggs'

Well, I thought it'd be a shame to let Easter pass without Freya having something to say about it. To be honest, I thought she'd just tell me all about how much chocolate she would like to eat. Instead she decided to tell a story, though it is about Easter eggs, so I was nearly right. The elephant in her tale eats, very specifically, '5 Easter eggs and 1 marshmallow'  because that's what she was given last week in her nursery class by the Easter bunny, and so, in Freya's head, that's what everybody gets! I'm kind of hoping I get more though....

'D' is for 'Daddy'

Today's video should probably come with some sort of health warning. I thought the subject might be quite comical, but Freya has veered away from the normally funny things she says about her Daddy and instead said some really sweet things. It's a bit vomit-inducing, and it's actually made me look a bit bad really, which isn't what I was going for at all. She was a bit reluctant to start today (note the roll of the eyes when she starts) which makes me wonder if she'll get to Z. This child labour isn't all it's cracked up to be! Once she gets going though, she reels off an impressive list of everything her Daddy does for her. You're probably left wondering what I do. Evidently, nothing! Get the bucket ready....

'C' is for 'Cinderella'

So, today I decided to get Freya to re-tell a story as yesterday we had trouble getting her story to go beyond a description of her character getting up, having meals and then going back to bed! Turns out, Freya prefers her stories short and sweet if she's the one telling them. This is in stark contrast to bedtime, when Mummy or Daddy's stories are never long enough! Enjoy.

'B' is for 'Bumblebee'

Welcome to day two of the A-Z challenge and another glimpse into the mind of my small child. Today Freya decided to tell us a story about a day in the life of a bumblebee, including her wonderfully simplified explanation of how a bee makes honey. The echo you can hear in the background is little sister Lola trying to join in. That might give you some indication of the constant level of noise in our house!

'A' is for 'Astronaut'

After weeks of trying to think of something interesting to do for the A-Z challenge, I'd pretty much drawn a blank. So, I've resorted to my secret weapon- my daughter Freya. Friends have often told me I should share some of her pearls of wisdom, so here we go. For each day, Freya will be telling a story about something beginning with the corresponding letter of the alphabet. We've already had some suggestions from friends about what she should talk about, and any more suggestions will be considered!
Enjoy a daily glimpse into the weird and wonderful mind of a 4-and-a-half year old!

Think we modern mothers have it all too easy?

 

The following is a column I wrote for a competition in my local paper. Let me know what you think! 

“It’s a hard life isn’t it Mummy?” shouts my four year old from the toilet. A plethora of amusing observations like this emerge from her ‘unique’ mind every day. But she’s quite astute. For parents today, trying to raise children is nothing short of terrifying.

Of course there are those who insist we ‘have it easy’ in comparison to, say, half a century ago. Washing machines and tumble dryers make light work of laundry, dishwashers mean we needn’t  worry about whether our ‘hands that do dishes are as soft’ with fairy liquid, the lucky among us have cars to ferry our children about, and at home, we have the luxury of yet more gadgets and gizmos to entertain our offspring. It sounds fantastic, but it’s essentially a flawed ideal.

Rewind 50 years. There were no ‘white goods’ in the average kitchen, but how many women went out to work between house-keeping and child rearing?  Most parents nowadays have little choice but to work, and the pace of life because of this can be spectacularly frantic. If I had to do everything without the aid of ‘mod cons’, as well as work, my children would most probably be starving and sitting in their own faeces, having half killed each other through forced interaction.

Lucky for them I do have these things. As for TV and games consoles, I have moments of despair, (as I’m sure many parents do), when I long for my children to show even a vague interest in the world beyond Little Big Planet or Doctor Who. But these gadgets are a lifeline for frazzled parents, who, when feeling like we’ve run a marathon before we even leave the house to go to work, just don’t have any energy left for our children. We can’t entertain the idea of letting them roam outside, due to the pure fear our media has instilled in us. We even worry that the very generation bemoaning the ease of parenting today, will berate us for letting our youths ‘wander the streets’.

So, take all your mod cons. I will give them up in an instant if it means I can stay at home and watch my children grow up instead of entrusting their care to strangers, if I can usher my children out into the sunshine without a sense of dread. But hey, what do I know? I’ve got it easy, apparently.

Happiness

I’ve been thinking recently about the idea of happiness and what it takes to make people happy. Redundancy, followed by long periods of unemployment, has had a huge impact on our family morale. Whilst this hasn’t been brilliant for us, I’m well aware things could be worse. Working in a public library brings me into contact with people from all walks of life and everyone at the moment is feeling the impact of decisions made by people living far removed from their effects. I wonder if ministers care about the correlation between their decisions and the increasing amount of homeless people sheltering in my workplace every day, and that, because of their cuts, there will probably be ten times the amount of homeless than Library staff if the trend continues for much longer. That means less staff to help these people, to spend time with them, to help make just a few minutes of their day more bearable.


We all strive to be happy. Even the Government said they want us to be happy. Maybe you remember the ‘happiness agenda’ they created a couple of years ago? To remind us to be happy, just in case we’d all forgotten whilst going about our living our bleak, worrisome, ignorant little lives.


And how did David Cameron say he was going to approach this? “As to precisely what we are going to do and when we are going to do it, you should wait and see."


Right, so, no idea then.


According to Mr Cameron, “It's time we admitted that there's more to life than money, and it's time we focused not just on GDP but on GWB - general wellbeing.” And from this we derive that Dave can probably spell. What we also know, is that it’s much easier to say there’s more to life than worrying about money if you have the money you’re not supposed to be worrying about.


Downing Street, unsurprisingly, became much less concerned about how happy we were when people started to point this out. When people took to the streets of London to protest about the banking industry, camped outside St Pauls to make their voice heard, the establishment did everything in their power to get rid of them. When people from our disabled community used their precious time and energy to produce the Spartacus report, (a report whose very existence should not have been needed), they were treated to ministers telling them they were not entitled to be comfortable enough to be happy. It’s only going to get worse. It transpires, whoever you are, wherever you are, if you want to be happy you’re on our own. You make your own way. And if you encounter any problems, such as joblessness, illness, disability, homelessness, or all of the above- you’re on your own


I’d like to know, first of all, how he ever intended to measure our happiness. (I say intended, as he’s obviously not bothered about it now).


I mean, we all want to be happy don’t we? Unfortunately- and someone needs to point this out to Dave- it’s almost impossible to measure.


Let’s cover everyone here- as all of us, young and old, need to be happy: A baby clearly can’t tell you if it’s happy, it lacks the vocabulary. A toddler, whilst having some grasp of language, cannot yet communicate effectively, and in any case has moods so changeable they are seemingly only content for fleeting moments. Just as communication is starting to develop into something useful, they hit puberty. At this point, you have next to no chance of being able to get anything more out of them than a series of low moans or grunts. Attempts to derive any meaningful conversation are futile. By the time they reach adulthood, our children will have learned, like us, to carefully doctor our feelings according to our audience, revealing or masking our true emotions as we see fit. I have absolutely no idea how I would react is some self righteous toffs came knocking on my door asking, ‘Are you happy dear?’ For those of us who are brave enough to volunteer an honest opinion though, the message from Whitehall is, unless you’re speaking from a position of money,’ shut up, we don’t really want to know’.


I don’t know what the key to happiness is but I’m sure generation after generation have pondered the same eternal question and I’m sure a bit of money, the opportunity to work if you can, comfort, a home and friends and family bring you a hell of a lot closer to it. I’m also fairly certain, judging by their actions, Westminster do not really give a toss whether any of us truly are or not.

Not so Glittery Twitter...

So. Today we were given the news that the @officialglitter account is not actually the real Gary Glitter. I can't say I completely surprised. I mean, we've established the guy is a vile member of the human race, but I don't think he's quite so witless as to open himself up to the wrath of Twitter users.

So, this begs the question, who did set up the Twitter account. Well, that little genius was someone called 'Ben' as I found out when I did a little digging and found his blog. It didn't take too long and I'm sure we'll hear more from him at some point. Anyway, he claims he set the account up as a social experiment to highlight the dangers of predatory paedophiles on social networking sites.

He says;

'I set this Twitter account up as a social experiment to highlight the dangers and safety of children using the social networking sites and to discover and question public morality,' 

Well, call me a pessimist, but it looks to me more like a case of a trying to gain a little bit of media coverage for not actually doing much. I mean, who of us doesn’t already know that the safety of children and the vulnerable is a problem on the internet? Most of the public realise there is an issue, and do their best to avoid it and stamp it out when it is encountered. There are even PROFESSIONALS working on solving this very dilemma with workable solutions. But, Twitter is a wonderful tool for engaging interesting and likeminded people, sharing information, encouraging freedoms. And, d'ya know what Ben? Most of the people who use it, and other similar sites, are not there to spy on children. I mean,  what does he suggest be done about it? Twitter is already regulated to a degree. But, unlike Ben, not all paedophiles announce themselves so loudly, all glitter and trumpets. That's generally not how predatory paedophiles work is it? All more regulation would do is restrict peoples freedom to share information, which, as we've seen in recent uprisings, is a vital lifeline, and something we should be trying to preserve (See SOPA/PIPA/ACTA). 

That, however didn’t stop people jumping on the bandwagon to support him, judging by the comments posted after his blog. Even Piers Morgan stepped up to congratulate the idiot. 'Very clever' apparently. Really. REALLY? Cos Piers Morgan of all people, is the one who's best to judge people's moral compass? He's not even that good at judging a bloody talent contest. Or even, while we're at it, working out which direction his own moral compass should be pointing.

The bloke who set up the account also quoted celebrities and other twitter users who'd made jokes about the decrepit idiot, vilifying them for making fun of a serious issue. A bit rich, I thought, coming from the one pretending to be that idiot!

All that aside, as I said this is a serious issue and not one anyone should take lightly. However, I think things like this are best left to the experts, and to those of us who use the internet as it was intended, as a tool for knowledge and good. Not jumped up little media whores.

And Bully's special prize.......

I switched on the TV yesterday lunch time, expecting to see maybe pretty Australians or middle aged couples selling off their family silver. Instead, I was confronted with pretty much the polar opposite. Slightly overweight, pale looking men, wearing what appeared to be their entire family's silver (maybe gold plated, maybe the neighbours too looking at the sheer amount of it). And they were throwing pointy things. Yes folks, it's the World Darts Championships. 

Now, darts have been around me all my life (and I don't think they were being aimed at me!). My Dad has played for as long as I can remember in a few local pub teams and has even become somewhat of a legend amongst my friends for it. One of his fellow team members a few years ago was none other than Trina Gulliver, the Lakeside Womens World Darts champion of 2010. So he's not a bad player. I even remember him playing a friendly game against Eric Bristow when I was six or seven, and I was far too excited for a child of my age when he returned with a signed photo bearing the message 'Hayley. Don't worry, your dad will beat me one day!, Eric'. He didn't, btw, but I suppose there's still time. 

My mum also played darts for while, which I could never understand, since she seemed to hate the game. However, I realise, since creating two highly strung girls myself, it was an obvious ploy to get away from me and my sister. 

So, given the family record, (and the training from watching 'Bulls Eye' every saturday tea-time) I should be brilliant a darts, right? WRONG! I tried playing myself a couple of years ago, with a team comprised of some of my work colleagues, imaginatively named 'Library Lushes'. (Can you guess where I work?) We actually did pretty well and got through a couple of seasons with surprisingly few injuries. But it's bloody hard! You need really good hand-eye co-ordination (to hit the board) and spacial awareness (to avoid hitting anything/anyone else around the board, or in some cases, the room). A few of our members found it staggeringly difficult. And then you have to do MATHS! I have a new found respect for my dad who can do fairly complicated sums in super quick time to work out what numbers he needs to hit to win- and then hit them! Sadly then, it seems I have not inherited this talent. Though, to be fair, I haven't put in the time and effort at the local pub that my dad has managed to over the years. 

As such, regrettably, I don't suppose I'll ever be good enough to join this lavish world of designer chic, pointy sticks and beer. I guess i'll carry on just playing my dad now and again, and losing. And you never know, if they ever bring back Bulls Eye....

My First Blog Post

Well, here I am. I've finally decided to take the plunge, bite the bullet, take the bull by the horns, whatever other idioms fit, and start my own blog! Truth be told, I have been thinking about it for quite a while and actually set this blog up a few months ago now. That does not mean, however, that I have managed to think of anything to write about in that time. Quite the opposite. I'm fairly sure that over that time, a substantial amount of my brain cells have died off, leaving me possibly less able to write anything of interest now than I was then. But it can't be that hard, can it? Bit like riding a bike I imagine. I'll either get better with practice or you can watch me becoming increasingly unstable.
Whatever happens, I might enjoy the ride. You're very welcome to watch. Like rubberneckers watching some kind of horrific accident.