My little blog

Jim Davidson - an open letter

2011-09-02T23:28:00.001+01:00

Kudos to you for publishing as many comments on your blog regarding the Norwich situation as you could, both the good and the bad (can't believe you even let one or two through calling you a c**t!). I shamefully admit that despite enjoying quite a lot of your work in previous years, I had begun seeing you through the eyes of the media, because that's all I heard regarding you. Also, I saw you interviewed on a TV programme (100 Greatest Stand-ups) saying you "f**king hate women, can't work 'em out" (then again if I were a man and had to pay as much maintenance as you do, I'd hate probably women as well, lol), so I guess that didn’t go down too well with me at the time, even though it was probably edited out of context to show you in the worst possible light. But, like other media targets, the rumours and reports put out as “truth” take on a life of their own till they bear little resemblance to what the person is actually all about. I have criticised the media and critics for their treatment of other celebs, either because I may know the celeb personally somewhat, as with one or two cases, or because I was a particular fan of said celebs. It was therefore hypocritical of me to swallow whatever the media said about the likes of yourself. So recently, having read something or other about you, I thought, you know what, I’m going to watch a few YouTube clips of him and visit his website and actually see and listen to stuff that’s come from him, rather than written about him. I enjoyed what I watched, even if admittedly it probably wasn't the most controversial material of yours I watched, and found your blogs interesting and enjoyable. Also, I noted that you took the time to actually reply to some comments on your blog, even if they didn’t always agree with you.

You have been, I feel, unfairly singled out for being non-PC, even though there are others who still use some material in their acts which might sit uneasily with many people. Also, most of us would agree that we’re not racist, homophobic, sexist, any of the “-ists” you care to mention, or at least we don’t think we are, but how many of us have laughed at an un-PC joke in private, such as those text jokes which do the rounds. But yet we wouldn’t admit publicly we had laughed at them, nor would we repeat them in most company (unless of course we first pathetically explained, in our modern pseudo left-wing way, of course, that we were laughing “purely in an ironic fashion”, and at the originator of the joke, rather than anyone targeted in the joke). So we laugh, at times, privately and condemn publicly, if the object of condemnation is someone who is no longer deemed “acceptable” by the media to laugh at. Hypocrisy at its height.

Well I, for one, shall continue to read your blogs, and I’d also like to put my money where my mouth is and actually go to see a show – if I can make the gig nearest me this year I will, with my hubby, finances permitting, if not, then definitely as soon as I can. I’d like to see this man called Jim Davidson live for myself, and not have the media tell me I shouldn’t. Some of the material I’ll like, some I may not like, as comedy is subjective, but I have a feeling that I won’t leave without having had some laughs (and maybe even having the mickey taken out of me by you, as my hubby looks on cracking up laughing).

Michael Barrymore

2011-05-06T23:49:00.006+01:00

If I had been through what Michael Barrymore has, quite honestly, I’m not sure I’d still be here now. It’s a credit to him, and whatever support network of people and organisations he has accepted help and encouragement from, that he has survived what would have made most people give up a long time ago. By his own admission, there have been times when he’s wanted to give up, but he’s still here, and planning live shows in a summer season mostly in Blackpool, as well as a panto later in the year.

So, let’s get the “pool” thing over and done with, because like it or not, that’s what has mostly been referred to whenever Michael has been mentioned in the press since 2001. Everyone assumes they “know” that Michael did or didn’t do this, that or the other. In other words, they believe what the press has said. The press has said a LOT and reported it as fact. People who were never fans of Michael in the first place will understandably have no interest in reading his autobiography, or maybe even interviews with him, to see what he says about the subject, although they’ll be only too happy to read negative pieces and lap up every word. However, one would think, given the press’ continued interest in him, that any journalist worth their salt would at least read his book (which contains transcripts of documents and statements to do with the case), to at least try to get some facts straight.

Let’s de-bunk some myths straight away (others have done this better than I but for the purpose of this blog I’ll briefly do it again) by stating some of the main facts:

· There were 9 people at the party that night, and only 2 of them were gay...Michael Barrymore and his boyfriend of the time, Jonathan Kenney. Amongst the 9 were 3 females.

· DNA testing showed that Stuart Lubbock had NOT had sex with anyone in the hours prior to his death.

· Kylie Merritt, who claimed that Michael Barrymore had been seen rubbing cocaine on Stuart Lubbock’s gums, was later shown to have been lying, in a lie detector test conducted by a newspaper.

· A brief extract from the lengthy statement one of the nurses at the hospital on the night in question, Stuart Nairn, states: “I believe that I had a very good uninterrupted view of his anus in good light for a significant period. I saw nothing unusual or untoward about it. It was completely normal. If it had been dilated and significantly bruised I am sure that I would have noticed this. Moreover I would have reported this to the doctors”. The police claimed that they could not trace this nurse for the inquest, yet Michael Barrymore’s solicitor was able to trace him from a simple internet search. His statement is at odds with the consistent “reporting-as-definite-fact” that the injuries occurred at the house.

· The same nurse inserted a probe approximately 16 times in order to monitor Stuart Lubbock’s temperature, due to the fact that the medical team were trying to raise it. He also said “...that the probe was causing some trauma and bleeding to the rectum was unsurprising, bearing in mind the number of insertions”.

· The word “horrific” to describe Stuart’s injuries was never actually used by the pathologist(s) in question, but somehow found its way into the media reports and was reported as gospel.

There’s so much more I could have added to that but it would take too long both for you to read and for me to type. This link is a good one, though written a few years ago, but Mark Simpson explains very well how Michael’s been hung, drawn and quartered by most of the UK media, and indeed some of the public who believe everything they read. http://www.marksimpson.com/blog/2006/10/03/tears-of-a-clown-michael-barrymores-trial-by-media/ Simpson mentions the case of 23-year-old Daniel Williams, who drowned in similar circumstances in the pool of another celebrity....

“Unlike the Lubbock case, the press didn’t find Williams’s death mysterious or even particularly interesting. They accepted the results of the police inquiry (which, as with Lubbock, ultimately produced no charges) and the Home Office pathologist’s conclusion was that he had died by drowning. They didn’t splash each day’s (carefully selected) inquest “highlights” across their front pages, printing speculation as scientific fact, or constantly interview Williams’s family and friends. Nor did they lynch his host’s career from the lamppost of public indignation. Instead they treated the death for what it was, a terrible accident.

Why? What was the difference? Was it in part that Williams drowned, accidentally, in a swimming pool belonging to a married film celebrity – the actor Art Malik – instead of a very famously gay and off-the-rails television celebrity called Michael Barrymore?”

Ah yes, the homophobia, let’s not even go there............. but it’s very much alive and with us, in the 21^st century. Jan Moir’s despicable article on Stephen Gately in the Daily Mail also comes to mind here, as another prime example of it.

Anyway, why am I writing this? Why now? Well, I just think it’s only right that Michael be given the fair chance he deserves to be able to make a decent living from the thing he loves best, performing. He has worked, of course, during the past 10 years, his stints in “Surviving Spike” and “Scrooge” being just some examples. That was in the UK, and he performed in successful productions in New Zealand as well to rave reviews. Oh by the way, here’s an example of what a New Zealand journalist thought of his treatment at the hands of the British press:

“I’m just staggered at how the British press have tried to crucify this talented entertainer at every turn. Sure, he’s been through the mill and, sure, he may have done some outrageous things, which he now regrets. But no human being deserves to go through what he’s been through and if the British press have their way they look like they’ll hound him till his dying day. Unfortunately I’ve never met Michael. But I sincerely hope that one day our paths will cross. I’d like to take this opportunity to wish Michael and Shaun every happiness in their new life here in New Zealand”.

His awards from the past speak for themselves – he made lots of people laugh and his rapport with the general public was second-to-none. That kind of warmth cannot be manufactured. If you never liked him, fair enough, but if you did or still do, he is performing in summer season at Blackpool this year, every Saturday from July to October (go to sites like Blackpool Live for links to book tickets) and I’d so like to see it be successful for him because he deserves it. I shall be in attendance and am so looking forward to it. In my opinion his only problem performance-wise at the moment is confidence, but that will come back. Confidence to know when to “go for it”, which produces laughs, and confidence to know when to “take it down” and be yourself, knowing the audience likes you for YOU, producing some “awwww” moments. The mixture of the two in Michael has always provided the unique magic for the audience. He doesn’t need to prove his talent – he did that since he first entered the limelight. Some people “got it” and some people didn’t. We all have different tastes, but I was one of the people who did “get it”. Thank you to Duggie Chapman who has organised all of the artists appearing at the North Pier this year. I think it’s lovely that Michael’s fans are getting the chance to see him live again, and I hope that they take it. Michael, good luck J x

Gerry Ryan

2011-04-15T11:29:00.003+01:00

With the anniversary of Gerry Ryan coming up, I thought I may as well publish this blog which I wrote some time ago but never finished....

“How saddening have this weekend’s revelations been about the Ryan family – just goes to show that all the money in the world doesn’t buy happiness. In fact, too much money can cause an awful lot of unhappiness. There is a saying: “Cocaine – God’s way of telling you that you make too much money”. There has been a lot of consternation over the weekend that our Irish television licence fees ended up Gerry Ryan’s nose and much ‘righteous indignation’ has appeared online about this fact. I say, it is not for anyone to dictate how somebody spends their salary. Where would we draw the line? My husband is a manager within the Irish health service – should people dictate what he does with his salary as well? Perhaps he should be prohibited from buying alcohol and cigars, or junk food. It wasn’t Gerry Ryan’s fault that Ireland has a culture of generally paying people far too much (our Prime Minister earns more than the President of the United States, and more than the British Prime Minsiter....go figure!) – what was he going to say “oh no I can’t possibly take that money, it’s far too much”. Would anyone else refuse a fat salary? I don’t think so. It’s our country’s culture that’s to blame rather than overpaid individuals themselves.

The whole thing is just so very saddening. More and more revelations about Gerry are coming to the fore. My husband earns only a fraction of what Gerry did. We can’t dine at the Four Seasons hotel, but you know what, we are infinitely happier than Gerry obviously was during the last period of his life. Addiction is a terrible thing and there but for the grace of God go any of us. I’ve had problems with prescription drugs myself and just because my drugs were legal and Gerry’s were illegal, I’m not going to ‘look down’ on him or anyone else, because drugs are drugs and addiction is addiction. It is no respector of persons. I do hope that this doesn’t tarnish his memory too much because he was a good broadcaster. He had many detractors, but he had even more fans, otherwise his services would not have been retained by the TV station RTE for so long.

I met Gerry Ryan in 1994 in La Stampa restaurant (long gone now I think?) in Dublin. I was with my then “beau”, and he introduced me to Gerry, who was with his beautiful wife Maura. Gerry was really charming and had the good grace to act as if he were actually pleased to meet me. He greeted me with enthusiasm which he didn’t have to do since he was off duty and didn’t know me from Adam – he could have just grunted at me, lol. Have to say I was very impressed by his charm. RIP Gerry – you’re greatly missed x”

Effexor - be warned!

2010-09-28T19:30:00.000+01:00

Just take even a brief look at some of the posts in the link below and people’s experiences of trying to come off Effexor.

http://bit.ly/bJjvsR

Over 6,000 posts for goodness sake! I have a very personal interest in the subject and even I didn’t have the time or the inclination to read through all of them. But there is a very similar theme running through all of them – the horrific withdrawal symptoms, not being warned about said symptoms upon being prescribed them, and the outrage at what this drug, although often successful in treating depression, can do to people if they either run out of it, or try to come off it. Even people who haven’t gone cold turkey, but have merely had their doses reduced, have been adversely affected. There are very strong emotions expressed, with many saying what a disgrace it is that people are not warned about the withdrawal symptoms, and how the pharmaceutical company in question should be held accountable. In essence, people, including myself, have been turned into ‘drug addicts’ because being without the drug causes such suffering – far worse in many cases than the depression which causes people to be prescribed it in the first place.

Many people are prescribed Effexor for post-natal depression. This was the case with me two years ago. I’d have preferred not to have had to take it, but since it had gotten to the stage where I was having suicidal thoughts, my husband (who is a clinical nurse manager trained in psychiatry amongst other disciplines) kind of figured I should really see a doctor (not that I really needed to be told I needed help!).

Anyway, the Effexor worked, and worked very well. Plus, I’d guess, with my hormones getting back to normal and circumstances getting better, perhaps I would have felt better in time anyway, but right then I needed to be ‘together’ for my family, and couldn’t afford to ‘wait and see’.

Do I need it now? I’m not sure. All is okay as long as circumstances don’t cause me to run out of it. Pretty stupid to allow oneself to run out but this has happened unavoidably three times, this being the third. I now have my supply of Effexor again and I know that within a day or so I’ll be without these horrible symptoms, which have already begun to subside with the knowledge that it’s in my system again.

I thought I was imagining the symptoms the first time I experienced them, that it was ‘panic’ or psychosomatic. But yet I knew I wasn’t, that they were all too real. Researching online has also proven that they are no figment of my imagination. In fact, as bad as they are for me, I actually have gotten off lightly. I don’t get withdrawal symptoms unless I’ve been without them for 3 days – some get them much sooner than that, and much worse.

Is it reasonable to stay on a drug indefinitely, whether or not you still need it, because the withdrawal symptoms are too horrible to want to go through? Because you know what you feel like after even only 3 days of being without them? Because you’re afraid that being without them for longer may result in goodness knows what? Because you feel so ill and ‘out of it’ that you’re not even fit to drive? Because one time when you did (stupidly) drive feeling like that, you felt so agitated that you could have quite happily driven your car into a wall? Because you feel so nauseous, dizzy, irritable, and frightened?

Remember, these symptoms have been experienced by people who’ve even just reduced their dose (in consultation with medical professionals); it’s not just running out or going ‘cold-turkey’ which does it. There seems to be no easy way to do it. If anyone does have an answer, please get in touch.

There’s also the cost of the medication per month, which for us is manageable but for some is a real issue. My husband and I have decided that I will wait until the spring, when the bright evenings are coming in, things will be a little better financially, and Christmas will be over and done with, before I even contemplate coming off them (with help from my GP needless to say). My GP said he didn’t have any strong feelings one way or another as to whether or not I should stay on them – that it was up to me and what I felt comfortable with. It’s so angering though, reading all those posts, and experiencing the symptoms, and I’d strongly urge anyone who it has been suggested to that they take Effexor, that they really research the drug and see if there are any other alternatives, before taking it.

Keith Chegwin

2010-07-20T00:41:00.005+01:00

Today, I think, has really brought home to me (finally!) how ridiculously blown out of proportion things get on Twitter, and how it can often turn into something akin to a witchhunt or bullying campaign. It never bothered me if it was about someone I didn't like; I wouldn't have given it much thought, but because I follow Keith Chegwin, and he follows me, and I've always liked him as a broadcaster - this time it does bother me, quite a bit, because I think he is an essentially nice guy who only wants to make people smile, and he just doesn't deserve it.

I'm not gonna get into the origins of his jokes as I'd be way out of my depth, some are his and some aren't, as he has said himself, but I will say that it is not a crime to repeat a joke you've heard before. I'll also tell you something else which I really hope Keith won't mind me sharing. I replied to one of his jokes with a semi-funny addition to it which I didn't think much of - but he DM'd me and said (and forgive me, I paraphrase) 'thanks for the laugh - I wish I'd thought of that line'. I thought that was really really nice of him, and very gracious. He could have tweeted my reply and claimed it as his own (and I wouldn't have minded one bit - I would have been flattered!) but he didn't do that.

The origins of a joke can be a grey area but please please, 'comedians' (actual and self-proclaimed) don't try to make out that Keith is stealing food from your table. Get your heads out of your arses. He is posting jokes on Twitter - not charging money for people to hear them in a stand-up routine. And even if he were doing that, there are different audiences so the same people would not hear the same jokes. I was surprised at Ed Byrne weighing into the argument like he did, and being so bitchy. Surely everyone has better things to worry about.

Whether or not you like Keith Chegwin, there was really no need for all the nastiness on Twitter today - it was way over the top. His tweets make me smile and quite frankly I couldn't give a damn where the jokes come from. Let's put things in perspective - we all need a laugh and a distinct sense-of-humour bypass was displayed by many today. Reminds me of the line 'Everyone laughed when I told them I was going to become a comedian...well they're not laughing now'. Twitter is mostly about fun, or should be. Let's reserve nastiness for murderers, paeodophiles or actual nasty people. Keith does not fall into any of those categories. As for him blocking people, well so would I if they were slagging me off. That is all.

7 Things You Didn't Know About Me

2010-04-13T14:37:00.004+01:00

Haven’t blogged in ages as just had no idea what to write about, or at least felt I had nothing noteworthy to say. That hasn’t changed, however this morning I was ‘tagged’ by my Twitter friend @YummyMummyNo1 on her blog (http://yummymummyno1.wordpress.com/) . She in turn had herself been tagged to write about ‘7 things you didn’t know about me’. I’m not familiar with all this tagging business but I’ll give it a go, and you if think it’s crap I can say ‘but I had to write it, I’d been tagged!’. So here goes – these are 7 things which came to mind – the PG version anyway, rather than the over-18’s version......

1. I have a phobia of bones sticking out! You know when people are too thin and their collar bones, and goodness knows what others, protrude? When I see that, especially in the flesh, I suddenly become very aware of the feeling of my own bones, imagining that they are going to pierce through my neck or elsewhere at any minute. Totally irrational because I am a healthy weight and there no bones protruding (only a post-pregnancy tummy!). When I visited my uncle in hospital the other day who is severely underweight (at 6 and a half stone, he is 2 stones lighter than me), not only did I think his collar bone was going to take my eye out any second, but also his cheekbones, and I found myself constantly pulling my coat tightly shut around my neck. Goodness knows what he must have thought.

2. Believe it or not, I used to work, as in, in paid employment! Yes, astounding as it is, I didn’t always spend my days doing housework, looking after kids, interacting on social networks etc. From 1993 to 2006 I worked in various roles, in a secretarial / admin capacity. The areas I worked in were corporate banking, engineering, marketing, architectural, and patenting. In the marketing job I was actually offered the chance to ditch the secretarial stuff and go full-time into the marketing side of things. I declined because I didn’t feel I had the personality to do the schmoozing with clients which went along with it. There was one client who was a dirty old man and would constantly ‘feel up’ my colleagues. No way would I have been able to be all nicey-nicey to him if he’d done that to me, and besides, I was a lot more introverted in those days. But I often wonder how much better off I’d be financially, and how much more I’d have been respected in the world of work, if I’d taken up the offer. Can’t believe I turned such a good opportunity down, but I do believe there is a reason for everything. I know that I should have pushed myself and aimed higher in general but I used to try to keep stress to minimum (though it didn’t always work!) in work, since it was usually so high from a personal point of view. I am grateful to all my employers though for treating me so well for the most part, giving me pay-rises when I’d only been in the company less than a year, believing in me, and trusting me with more responsibility once they’d seen what I could do. The only thing I miss about working is the money, obviously, and that it wasn’t 24/7, unlike motherhood.

3. I have no brothers or sisters. ‘An only child is a lonely child’? Probably, but one doesn’t realise it when it’s all one is used to. What I never had, I’ll never miss. I remember Annie Lennox, when interviewed once, saying that being an only child gives one a distorted view of the world. I know what she means, though I would prefer to use the word ‘unique’. Thankfully I wasn’t spoiled, so I know how to share and I don’t think the world centres round me. It has left me needing, or maybe ‘wanting’ is the more suitable word, more personal space than perhaps those with siblings might though. I love company, but not all the time, and I shy away from large gatherings, unless I’m completely comfortable with those present. After a while with any type of company (adult I mean; it’s a given my kids are with me most of the time but that’s different), I think ‘okay, I’m tired talking now, enough, go away!’. Funnily enough though I was anxious that my son wasn’t an only child as I think females cope better with it, and so we had Ciara, and it was one of the best decisions of our lives.

4. I once sang in a gospel band/choir, and was even given my own microphone and made to stand at the front with 3 others! The gospel band we had at the church I used to go to was fabulous (well, until the American band director left) – it was a full-blown rock ‘n’ roll type band and we used to learn contemporary Christian songs to sign at church services. The female lead singer in the group was so good (such a powerful voice) she honestly could have easily passed an X-Factor audition and gone far, but she chose not to, whereas I just did the harmonies with my little mousey voice. If I ever was deluded enough to have any showbiz ambitions, it would be to be a backing singer, but only if I could be tucked away at the back where no-one could see me. I love music, and working out harmonies. However I’m just not good enough, and that’s not false modesty, just honesty. Once I went to a performing arts school for singing lessons, just for the hell of it, as a pastime, and when I heard a tape of myself singing I thought ‘who is that cat being strangled? Oh it’s me – best not waste any more money!’. Apart from the fact that my teacher clearly never bothered listening to the tapes (with original artists) he’d asked me to compile of songs I wanted to ‘master’. So that didn’t last long! Now I just leave the singing to those who actually can, and enjoy their work.

5. It was at the grand old age of 34 that I passed my driving test, at the second attempt. Before I got married and moved 40 miles away from my hometown, there was never really a need for me to drive, and so I didn’t. Having kids, though, changed all that, and I had no choice if I wanted any kind of independence, especially travelling to see my friends and family from my hometown.

6. The celebrities I have met are as follows (listed in descending order of niceness): Bobby Ball, Tommy Cannon (the nicest guys in the business), Gilbert O’Sullivan, Ricky Tomlinson, Noddy Holder, Cliff Richard, Cilla Black and William Roche. They were all nice when I met them, particularly Bobby, who goes out of his way to make people feel at ease in his presence. One expects the customary handshake when one meets a celeb, but with Bobby I was surprised with a big bear hug (we’d had contact beforehand so he knew who I was, lol).

7. This will probably be the most unbelievable – I used to hate the idea of social networking sites! Couldn’t understand why people would invade their own privacy posting pictures on sites like Facebook and Bebo; thought it was only for ‘young people’. I’ve no idea what initially made me join Facebook, but I did, followed by Twitter. Twitter is now my favourite place online to interact. My online life has evolved, and I’m ‘meeting’ new people online all the time. I have had the pleasure of meeting some of my friends I originally met online, and am pleased to say they are just as nice in the flesh as ‘on the screen’.

So that’s it!

I am now supposed to tag 7 people to write a similar post, but not sure who has already been tagged for this, and who hasn't, so I've tagged 3 and will put out an invite on Twitter for another 4 people who may want to post on this subject. If the 3 people tagged don't want to do it or haven't time, don't worry, but I know if you do it, you'll make a fab job of it :) x

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The Waiting Game.....

2010-03-09T00:33:00.005Z

Well, don't really know how to start. To cut a long story short, our close friend was diagnosed with cancer of the oesophagus late last year. He had chemo, and then on Wednesday went under an operation to remove the tumour, and part of his oesophagus and also have his stomach moved up. There were complications with his blood pressure going dangerously low (he stopped breathing twice), but up until Friday he appeared to be recovering well, and was even able to send some texts. We knew he was getting back to himself as he was his usual moody self in them!

Fast forward to Saturday however, and we were hit with a bolt from the blue.....He is now in intensive care on life-support with a severe infection of unknown origin. The hospital staff say that they have never seen any patient deteriorate so quickly. The next 48 hours will be critical. They are throwing every drug they can at him but he is not responding as yet.

We've become really close to this guy over the past two years or so. He now lives very near us and would come over nearly every day for coffee. I've probably spent nearly as much time with him as I have with my husband (I'm sure some of the neighbours must have thought we were having an affair as he was here that often!). He's pretty much the only person who, when he cooks a meal, will get the kids to eat it all! He spent Christmas with us. Hell, he even loaned us the money for this laptop!

We've had our ups and downs with him - we know his faults and he knows ours, but we have grown so fond of him. He is one of us. Never married or had kids of his own, so he's almost like a second father to our kids, and they love him. He said he would think of our daughter's smile to get him through his operation.

We had a 'just in case' conversation two days before his operation....just in case things went wrong. How I'm glad we did.

I'm praying, listening to spiritual music to try to feel more positive. I know it's 50/50 right now and I so hope it's the right 50, despite how bad things look. This is hitting us hard and we don't want to think yet about the worst case scenario.

And so we wait......

A New Phase

2010-02-24T00:14:00.000Z

Funny how a new routine can make one reflect. My son started playschool yesterday, so now we have a new routine of bringing him there in the morning for three hours, then collecting him. It has made me get all sentimental about how my son is starting to grow up. School once seemed such a long time away, now suddenly I’m making a lunch in the morning and packing his Spiderman schoolbag. School ‘proper’ will most likely start in September 2011 and this is good preparation. I was never sent to playschool; was thrown in at the deep end at the age of 4, and can remember taking a long time to adjust. That’s not what I want for my son. School is never easy for kids so I’d like the transition made as pain-free as possible for him.

My son is officially no longer a toddler now. He is a little boy. That’s kind of strange for me. The ‘baby phase’ is definitely gone, for both my kids. We have gotten rid of things like the cot, steriliser, playpen, changing table etc., and no we definitely won’t be needing them again, for health and other reasons, but I won’t go into that in this post, if ever. Some people would find it sad that their children are no longer babies (though my twenty month old daughter still has some ‘toddling’ to do yet and has many ‘babyish’ ways) but although it does feel a bit weird, I find it sort of exciting.

It signifies a new phase in my life, not to mention theirs. Ever so slightly frightening, but also exhilarating in a funny way. So many (good) changes have taken place already in my life in the past seven years. Not always easy changes to cope with, especially when some of them all came together (try finding out you’re unexpectedly pregnant on the day you move into your new house in a new town, deciding to bring forward your wedding and having to arrange it in two months, then having a baby a few months later!), but still all for the best. Even this past year there have been changes, but I’m happy with where I’m at, and since we can’t avoid change, why not embrace it. I’ve no choice but to ‘allow’ my kids to grow up, so I intend to, rather than lament the fact that they are not babies anymore, get excited about all the things they are going to learn, and how they are going to develop as ‘little people’.

As for myself, there is slightly more freedom when one’s children are not babies anymore, not much maybe, but a little. It also means I’m getting older, but hey, I’m finally coming to the age I’ve felt I was for years anyway. I’m ‘growing into myself’ and maybe that’s why I’m at last becoming comfortable in my own skin. I can only imagine this feeling increasing as I move closer to middle age, at least that’s what I’m hoping. I shudder (but with a knowing grin) when I think of how depressed I was at turning twenty-seven, now that I would be in my late twenties! But I was going out with a moron at the time who made me feel pretty crap about myself. Now I’m with someone who (mostly!) accepts me as I am. I can honestly say I’m looking forward to my fortieth birthday in four years. Hands up who wants to be a happy old fart along with me!

No Inspiration

2010-02-13T00:32:00.002Z

Have just read 'Handbags 'n' Botox' blog and wonder why I bother even thinking of blogging. His blog is so compelling and funny. Mine is, well, not. I have no social life to speak of, no nights out to describe in juicy detail. Carrie Bradshaw I ain't. All I have is my relatively boring little life, a married stay-at-home mom. If I often find it boring, how on earth can I expect other people to be interested in it? I've already written about how meeting my hubby saved me from the worst of my addictions (once an addict, always an addict by the way, I can't even have Solpadene in the house). There are things which have happened in the near and distant past which would be not only interesting, but probably shocking, to some, but alas I cannot write about them as they are far too personal and more importantly would impact on other people involved.

But yet if I give up writing for the sake of writing, I feel I'll be losing something. My previous blogs came to me easily, but for now, I seem to have 'writer's block'.

All I will say is that this past week has made me feel grateful for my blessings. Last weekend was a horrific one, or so I thought, as regards how I was feeling, and I wondered how I'd make it through the coming weeks. Being back in my hometown on a visit to my parents, and getting to drive my hubby's car (which rocks!), had started to cheer me up on Monday anyway, but through the week I learned that a friend had tried to take her own life, and that another friend's mother was very critically ill. Seems so many are going through so much. This news made me take stock. Suddenly, the things which would usually give me a knot in my stomach didn't bother me; it was as if someone had given me a Valium (not a good idea, I'd only want another one...or two..or three...oh hell, just gimme the whole packet!) and I was almost 'anaesthetised'. Maybe my body and brain just realised that I needed to relax before I went on 'overload', but for now I feel better...and grateful...and I want to send my love to my friends who have worse things on their plate than I do.

A Vintage Year

2010-01-01T12:55:00.002Z

The moment has passed, I fear, for doing a blog on 2009, as most bloggers had that done and dusted well before now, but my excuse is that three out of four of us in the house had a virus on Wednesday, and then spent yesterday recovering and catching up on the stuff we should have done.

If the previous year has been a good one, I always start the new year with a certain amount of trepidation that the new one couldn’t possibly be as good, but that’s my old demons I guess, the negative thinking that still sometimes plagues me. What I feel overwhelmingly is a sense of gratitude that I can look back at 2009 mostly with great fondness, apart from the odd glitch or two. I have seen over the last few days online that it was not a great year for some, and many were glad to see the back of the old year. Hopefully they will not feel that way about 2010.

2009 brought me many new friends, as well as maintaining contacts with “old” ones. In February 2009 I went against my own rule of never joining a social networking site (I think I’d been put off by what I’d seen people posting on Bebo), and joined Facebook, followed by Twitter in June. Boy am I glad I did! The people I have met, both online and in the flesh, through these sites, have enriched my life so much. A special mention must go to Andrea, whom I met through the Bobby Ball “circle” on Facebook (more on him later!) – she has become one of my dearest and most trusted friends, and her husband has also become a good friend of mine. To those who say that friendships which originate online are not as “real” as those formed through other channels…..pah!

And as for Bobby Ball, well, half of my Facebook list consists of mutual friends of his! I had added one or two celebrities, as well as “real-life” friends and family obviously, had done the customary “thanks for the add” on his page….and he wrote back! I’d always liked Cannon & Ball anyway but this made me think “What a nice bloke”, and hence, a year later, I have wonderful new friends thanks to seeing his profile page. The man himself is absolutely lovely and I’ve had the privilege of meeting him in 2009, but his fans are lovely too and a great bunch. I’ve had the pleasure of going to England and meeting some of them in the flesh, and had some great times. Hard to believe that a year ago I’d never heard of any of these people, apart from Bobby himself of course. What a difference a few months makes.

Of course I’ve also made new friends outside “Bobbyland” and Facebook, whom I’m very fond of, not least Dotty from Twitter, and who have been very encouraging to me. I was pleased to get back in touch with my old teacher, Tim, for instance.

2009 had its share of bad points too, but I prefer not to dwell on those. It was a good year overall, in fact a truly life-changing one, and I want to make 2010 an even better one, if that’s possible. I hope that 2010 brings you all what you wish for.

Fergus the Angel

2009-12-29T00:43:00.005Z

This day 4 years ago, I got married. They say one's wedding day is the happiest in one's life, but for me it was the day after when all the fuss was over and done with (like marriage but hate weddings!), and we could get on with the business of just "being". How has marriage been? Well I've been pleasantly surprised really; I thought marriage would adversely affect romance etc (time and kids have done that, not marriage!) but we still are in love, though that's easy to forget during rough patches when one wonders what the hell one was thinking, lol, but they are outweighed by good patches. I love signing my name "Mrs Lorna Byrne" - I find a certain protection in marriage and find that I get just that little bit more respect from the outside world (not much mind you!) than I did when I was a single gal. The old-fashioned idea of the man as the "protector" appeals to me. Let me tell you what kind of a man my Fergus is, and what an extraordinary difference he has made to my life...

When I met Fergus, I was under 7 stone (had not eaten "properly" for months due to depression/anxiety/stress and had to take Complan to keep my weight up. I had been addicted to sleeping pills (and tranquilisers as well at one point), and had been off work due to depression/anxiety, due to a previous relationship break-up and my mother being ill (she herself suffers from depression but much worse than I ever have done). Basically, although I was beginning to get better on the night I met Fergus (otherwise I wouldn't have been in the pub in the first place in order to meet him!), I wondered if I'd ever live a "normal" life again, where I didn't get nervous about going out and meeting people. Thoughts of ever meeting anyone and having children were certainly neither likely nor even desirable.

Then, one night whilst out with my cousin....I met Fergus....and that was it. I nervously agreed to a date, after my cousin persuading me that it would be no harm to show up, and that she knew him and he seemed "like a nice fellow". Had a panic attack before the date, but I did show up, and we were inseparable after that. For whatever reason, and it’s still a mystery to me to this day, he was smitten with me (he apparently rang up his friend after our first date and said he’d found “The One”!). I was slightly more cautious about giving my heart away as it had been trampled on before, but I found him so attractive and felt so comfortable with him, that it was easy to fall in love. He told me he loved me within 2 weeks and that he wanted to stay with me forever within a month. Within weeks I was eating normally again and eventually put on a stone. Within months, though I found it hard, I came off the sleeping tablets altogether. I started working again, and soon…..I was living a ‘normal’ life, and we were planning a future and everything. He knew my weaknesses, and still accepted me and loved me. Around the time we met, my mother was very ill and took around 3 overdoses within the first two months of our relationship. A lesser man might have said “too much baggage” but Fergus didn’t. He stayed….and married me. He has always believed in me and built up my confidence instead of taking it away like other men have. My self-esteem was on the floor when we met, now it’s at a healthy level. Our personalities compliment each other. I have tamed him and given him a purpose, and he has expanded my horizons and given me a future. That’s not to mention the two beautiful children we have created. I won’t go on any more….you get the picture……

My First Blog

2009-12-28T01:59:00.002Z

This will be short and sweet. I have been inspired to write by @dottymummy on Twitter. Had been toying with the idea of writing a blog from time to time anyway, but when I saw @dottymummy's, I thought, "now if I were doing a blog, that's the way I'd love to do it". However, there is no point in simply copying, this has got to be a reflection of myself and not anyone else, but @dottymummy's advice to write as if my life depended on it was certainly a spur. I shall just be myself, and witter on about my life and thoughts, and act like it's a diary, that no-one is reading, and if anyone does read it, treat it as a bonus.

This Christmas has been such a lovely one. Just the four of us, and our two friends. No parents. No parents-in-law. No obligation to visit so-and-so from my hubby's family who are having their annual Christmas party. We determined that we had spent the last few Christmasses pleasing others, and this year we were going to please ourselves and have the kind of Christmas we wanted. My hubby has become disillusioned with many from his family, for many good reasons (he isn't just being paranoid), although he is obviously still on speaking terms with them, and so thankfully for me he doesn't put the same pressure on me as he used to, to attend the latest party being held because someone sneezed (so it seems, in his family - very social and outgoing people, the complete opposite to my family). My family, or at least the ones I'm closest to, are not really into large gatherings, and neither am I, so to spend Christmas not having to get dressed up was heaven. We got great joy from seeing the excitement on the kids' faces opening and playing with their pressies; we ate; we drank but only a little; we watched some TV; we had good chats and laughs. Just being together in celebration, that's what the season should entail.

I have felt an over-riding sense of guilt though, the more I've heard of people who haven't had such great Christmasses, where there have been arguments, illness, serious lack of money, etc. Keep thinking I don't deserve to be so content and that it's all going to go horribly wrong. Let's hope it doesn't. Money was not in plentiful supply but we had everything we needed, not least each other.
My baby daughter is crying now so best get up to her. Till the next one, whenever that may be, take care!