Brain Time!

Having taken the plunge and decided to launch myself headlong out of my professional comfort zone to retrain for something completely different, I was made to wait 10 days by those meanies at the college for my study materials.  But at long last, aforementioned study materials have now arrived so it’s time to Retrain My Brain!

I know the path to starting my own business is going to be a long one, and there will be twists and turns along the way.  I have a lot of work to do and (judging by the course materials) much learning to take on board.  I am going to have to be disciplined and give myself realistic deadlines if I am to achieve my goal of becoming a qualified Nutritionist. 

Without exception, everyone I have confided in prior to taking the plunge has given me their utmost support (thank you – you know who you all are!) and the positivity (and realism!) of those who know me best is making me even more determined to succeed (as opposed to suck seed, which is what birds do ….!)

The Nutrition course is just the first step of my great adventure.  Come September I’m hoping to enrol on a course with real live people (not a distance learning experience) to gain a Diploma In Counselling. 

So, pencils sharpened, notepad and biro at the ready …. I’m going in.

Wish me luck – I may be some time!

x

 

Where Does It All Go ....?

When you have your hair cut, you can see the evidence of your mission as the hair drops to the floor (and down your back!) at the mercy of the stylists’ scissors.  You can see the hair being swept up by some poor long-suffering sweeper-upper and disposed of.  Or sold to a wig makers perhaps ….

But when you diet, where does the weight go as you shed those unwanted pounds?  You don’t wake up in the morning and leave 1lb of blubber in bed, you don’t wash it away in the shower, or shave off a layer of lard as you get ready for work.  It just disappears, like magic! 

The same can be said for “Magic Pants” – without them, your outline may resemble the Michelin Tyre Man.  Don a pair of Magic Pants and hey presto – svelte and Kylie-esque in an instant (this of course assuming you can get into the bloody things in the first place!).  Although admittedly one has to be careful with Magic Pants:  the wobbly bits can have a tendency to roll over the waistband, thus giving the impression of some bizarre “I’m wearing a rubber ring under my outfit” outline, or at the other end of the garment, circulation to the legs can quite easily be cut off without the wearer realising – until you stand up and can’t feel your legs!

So, five weeks into the diet and half a stone lighter ….. but where does it all go!?!

x

Ranty Pants I

Well, I feel a stint in the ranty pants coming on.  A bit random, but a few minor irritations.  Please feel free to add your own to the list …..

• Fresh fruit and veg:  cucumbers/peppers etc really don’t need to be wrapped in cling film.  Likewise, apples and bananas do not fall off the tree covered in stickers telling me what they are! 

• To the skanky ones at work:  can’t you read?  The signs in the communal kitchen ask that you kindly clean up your crockery and cutlery after use.  That’s not an invite to dump it into the sink until someone else gets so fed up looking at it, that they wash it up for you.  Likewise, please leave the tea towels straight and stop nicking my coffee – buy your own!

• Recruitment Agencies:  you promise the earth and then deliver nothing.  You ring with “the ideal opportunity” for me, build me up and then close the door.  Or you contact me with the most bizarre job openings for skills I do not possess.  Did you read that CV you asked for?

• Recruiters in general:  how on earth you can find it justifiable to leave an applicant hanging around for 3, 4, 5 weeks without any contact is beyond me.  Surely, when you read my application you must have had an inkling as to whether I’m a yay, nay or maybe.   Communication is a great tool.  Use it!

• When you become a parent, do you lose your own identity?  Why do people ring a radio station to warn the nation of a traffic hot-spot, only to go by the name of “Bens dad” or “Annies auntie”.  

• The AmericaniZation of the English language.  It’s not called the English language for fun y’know!  Bloody Microsoft have got a lot to answer for.

And breathe ……..

x

Ramblings, Rants and Writing .....: All Change?

Ramblings, Rants and Writing .....: All Change?: "Those of you who know me are well aware that over the last year I’ve made many changes to my life, all of them good, and I wouldn’t change o..."

All Change?

Those of you who know me are well aware that over the last year I’ve made many changes to my life, all of them good, and I wouldn’t change or undo a single thing.  Personally, I have never been happier or more confident than I am now.

Life in the Midlands is different:  I’m getting used to being addressed as “Bab” and the fact that roundabouts are called "Islands" in these parts.  I’m even cool with the “weekend surrogate mum” bit – or daft big sister as I prefer to think of it.   A biggie for someone who never wanted children, I can tell you!

The only blip on my happy horizon is that I am really struggling to find the perfect job:  I’ve come oh so close on many occasions to landing the PA role that’s out there somewhere.  I know I am a bloody good PA but do I really want to screw myself up with a never-ending stream of applications and interviews, followed by the inevitable rejection phone call, thanks to the internal candidate/one with industry specific experience?

So, at the age of 42 I am seriously thinking about a change of direction.  Retraining.  Starting again.  Something different.  Something for me - and the opportunity to help others whilst hopefully carving out a successful new career.

It will mean a lot of home study whilst still working full-time (unless we win the lottery!), I’ll have to be dedicated and focussed, and most importantly, I will have to make sure I promote my new qualification once I’ve achieved it - but I feel really positive that this is the right thing to do.

I don’t want to say exactly what it is at the moment (although some of you may know already) but I know in my heart of hearts that if I don’t do this thing now, I will never do it and will live the rest of my days yearning for what might have been, and a head full of unanswered questions. 

Am I finally growing up? 

Watch this space ……!

There's Something About Christoff ....

Love him or loathe him, there’s no escaping him.  For me, there’s something oh so likeable about Chris Evans that deserves a blog all to itself!

I remember with a fond smile and slight cringe my first meeting with Mr Evans, or to give him his affectionate handle, CLP.   As he made his entrance into the phone room at Radio 2 during the Children In Need 2009 Music Marathon I was taken aback by how tall he is.  And slender.  And not as ginger as one would expect.  I then proceeded to totally embarrass myself, as he addressed me “Hello Deevs” I replied “Oh f**k, you know who I am!”

A lovely easy-going fella with time for his fans and a naturally approachable aura, Chris shares his life with his fans via his Radio 2 blog – the ultimate ‘share’ moment had to be when his blog was merely a photograph of his newly-pregnant wife’s scan photo.  No words needed to accompany the image – Chris and Tash were entering into the realms of parentalism!

After his “wilderness years” his return to prime time radio with the Drivetime Show proved that Evo still had it.  Doubters were won over, new fans increased the RAJAR figures and Chris accompanied the nation on their drive home.  There were times I actually drove slower, or took the longer route, purely to hear more of Drivetime.

Now we have Mr Lambie Pies for breakfast:  his upbeat, easy-going yet lively manner making him the perfect start to the day. I defy you to listen to an entire show and not have anything positive to say about it …. go on, I dare you …!

His love of life shines over the airwaves – I’m sure many of us would just love to go out for a pint with Chris.  He’s that kind of guy.

Ever the professional, I shall never forget his Tweets on the night one of the original bloggers, Jane, left us for the Great Shoe Shop In The Sky.  He wanted details.  He wanted to know what WE, Jane’s friends  wanted HIM to do on HIS show the following morning.    And yes, he did us, and Jane, very proud with a dedication for our lovely friend and some words so beautifully composed he had the entire blog population blubbing onto their toast. 

And now we have extra Christophe Lambie Pies portions via The ONE Show.  For a show which was in danger of sinking, he gives the lead into the weekend a kick up the arse and then some:  you can see the nervousness on the face of his co-presenter, not quite knowing where the sometimes manic Evo is going next.

Yes, there’s been ups and downs, but Chris, if you ever read this – thank you for the music, for being there and for sharing.

And I promise not to cuss when next we meet!

Deevs

X

Dear Nan ....

Dear Nan

As you turn 89 today, I can only imagine what you have seen and experienced during your 88 years on this planet of ours. 

How did you cope before the invention of television, mobile phones, package holidays and Tupperware?  The halcyon days of unlocked back doors, and the kids playing out in the street as one big happy community – not reliant on electronic gadgetry, batteries, chargers or 24/7 cartoon networks! 

Did you ever, in your wildest dreams, think that man would walk on the Moon and everyday normal people would be able to experience supersonic air travel? 

You’re on your 4^th Monarch, and have lived through 23 British Prime Ministers. 

You fought for your country during WW2 – even with my wild imagination I can’t see you armed with an Ack Ack gun, defending the South Coast, but I know that you did as you have given me your war medals, something I will forever cherish. 

You enjoyed a long and happy marriage to granddad, and mothered 3 children.  You have 4 grand-children and one great-grandchild.  You worked and kept house, looking after your brood, always there for your girls until one by one they fled the nest to make homes of their own. 

Throughout my childhood you entertained me, introduced me to the delights of Jimmy Young and Terry Wogan and sometimes you took me to work too!  You even taught me how to make pastry (although your gravy was never as good as the legendary “granddad gravy”)!

You’re not as agile as you once were, and your hearing needs a bit of help these days but to me, you’ll always be My Nan, a role-model, matriarch and all-round lovely lady.

Happy Birthday Nan!