Only a Kid....

“It doesn’t have to be from your childhood…” Jade said, “It’s still a toughie…” I thought to myself.

I either find I have too many memories or not enough.

And let’s face it, not all of them are good ones! This course is indeed great therapy for me, but is in danger of becoming an “emotional trip.” The last thing I want is to bring everyone else down with my “black cloud” moments, I am always too aware that I do that now.

Anyways, back to the plot; my childhood was alright I guess… apart from the being forced to eat brussles thingy. My school days were not the best in the world; but I guess bullying does that for you really.

My teen age years were spent in and out of jobs, and it is fair to say I was not a “normal young ‘un” was an understatement. No late nights out getting drunk and unruly, no trouble brought to my families door. No police phone calls asking for bail or help, no getting stoned out of my brain for me; no string of little kids following me around and calling me Mummy… yes people I was indeed that good girl.

Though I can assure you all I was not perfect, but then that would not surprise you really.

I have been the cause of most of my parents grey hairs, and probably the cause of their bad health too… well; so they tell me anyway.

How on earth I managed to stay alive, let alone safe is beyond me. I was (and always have been) a friendly person, I would (and still do) talk to anyone. So how I managed to not be abducted is a miracle, though some days I know my folks wish I had been ~ I am a nightmare!

I was not really bad, more a pain in the butt. I have one of those “can drop it” natures; I just have to have the last word in an argument. Though I rarely argue with friends, it is always my folks; I know that bothers them a lot.

Anyways, my 20’s were spent much the same as my teens, though now I began to go out more; maybe I am getting my life the wrong way round?

The more others in the group talked, the more I was able to remember bits about my childhood and growing up… things I had forgotten, maybe that is a sign I am getting old?

I remember fondly the little blue and white trike that stayed at my Granddad’s in Earl Street, he lived just down the road from the shoe factory that is now the Charles Bradlaugh pub. I was always told to never go father than the factory and the corner of Robert Street, and as a good girl I never did.

Taking a slight tangent here, I can remember that every time I walked past the factory I would shout “hello” through the open window; always being greeted by a hearty “hello” back. It was always the same bloke that shouted back; or seemed to be anyways. It also seemed a different age when people would not ignore their neighbours, when there was a sense of community and people were not afraid of speaking to youngsters.

I heard Richard speak of television programmes, some even I had heard of; but it also allowed me to remember those classics (well they were to me) that I loved and enjoyed.

Oh the times I sat with Mum during lunch watching Bagpuss, Dangermouse, (a favourite of Mum’s) Count Duckula, (Mum does a cracking impression of Nanny) Button Moon, and many others… Of course we cannot let this go without mentioning Newsround or indeed Blue Peter; how I wish I had a Blue Peter badge, almost worth trading in my Service Medal from St. John for one of them!

As I think about it now, there are so many memories that it would take me forever to write them all down.

But maybe that is the point in a way isn’t it? A reminder of days gone by, when everything just seemed easier and better. Mind you though, it may have something to do with the fact I was only a kid.

Fill Your Paper With The Breathings Of Your Heart...

A hat box with red roses on, is beige and pink in colour; somehow it just seems to match and go together ~ bit like me really I guess...


The box itself makes me think of my Mum and how much she'd love the chance to use this; and of course the beautiful hat which surely was inside at some point, now of course it is just a box...


But that isn't strictly true, is has become something more than just a "empty box." It has been filled with all manner of things; each has its own story to it, each a reminder of a past I shall never forget.


There is a thimble that leads me to my Aunt in New Zealand, Sandra. She loves collecting them, and has loads. Her son is getting married next year; (2011) gosh how we would all like to be there to see that. I am sure my folks will manage to go, as to me? Well, who knows!


There are, of course the obvious pictures of faces from my past (and my present) and the newspaper clippings I just cannot part with, things that remind me of happier times; and some sad ones too... still now, it hurts to see the clippings about his funeral; losing Mr. Northampton has scared me deeply.


There are train tickets from those lovely days spent in London with that guy who shall remain nameless; which is a rather long name by the way! Now all I need to go with said train tickets are those tickets for them shows he kept promising me we'd go see!


There's a little stick on furry penguin, a reminder of those Raflatac stickers my folks used to use at their previous company; a penguin was the logo... made a great talking point. Especially when I was able to use them on that little enterprise I had going on, what was it called now? Oh yeah; SMART Merchandise... Gosh how daft? But the idea was good, paper/stationary packs and smelly packs... 


A gift box; well, basket of toiletries ~ all wrapped and presented with a Raflatac sticker on the top. And the paper packs were cool, even if I do say so myself... but they were nothing compared to the paperweights! Now they WERE class!! I must get round to doing some more of them!!!


The fan that reminds me of my travels to Spain, certainly a much more carefree time. The black sand a reminder of the time in one of the Islands, the pebble from a beach somewhere in Portugal; the small tile from my time in Italy... gosh, so many memories, I just could not fit them all in!


There is that Danish flag, to remind me of what I lost and my time in wonderful Denmark, an old badge in silver from St. John Ambulance; when we still had the zoo on there!! Dang, I even had that silly mic cover from the council chamber in here; best not tell Paul about that one!


Of course my little Knight makes it into my box, how could he not? Maybe it is purely the St. John thing, or maybe it is that I wish I had a Knight in shining armour; but he has to be there! 


And the last thing to go in there will be a bit of string with a noose on the end of it... Of course I know what it means, and what it could tell anyone that looks at the contents on my "Keep Sake Box." But I need to keep it in here, I need to have that reminder; so I will never forget nearly losing everything... 


After all; until we know where we've been how can we know where we are going?

Pride of Northampton.... (There's a First)

I was all geared up to write a couple of blog about my town and its councillors after seeing the latest play at the Royal called “Town,” I was ready to moan and ask what in the blue hell is happening to my town… I still might, but right now I want to lay some praise on someone.

The first time I went on duty to this “Town” play was Thursday 26th June, which coincided with the date our “pride of lions” were unveiled around town. I knew they were coming, but much like the recent performances by England’s overpaid prima~donnas; I was not prepared for them!

Heading up past Castle Station (notice I won’t use “Northampton Station” ~ it’s always been Castle Station, never mind what the sign says! As with Jimmy’s End ~ St. James and of course MK “City” ~ but the less said about that the better!) and over St. Peter’s roundabout I noticed three lions kindly guarding (or watching, you choose) over John Dickie’s home…

Having said that I was not prepared to see lions (real or otherwise) in Northampton was not an understatement, after the initial swear word and “there’s three lions!” I could not stop smiling to myself; fancy that ~ I was actually smiling for once!

Wandering around town now seems more fun, I actually find myself looking up more. Even nights out seem much more fun, and yes I have the pictures to prove that ~ and no, I did not break the one outside the Guildhall… and I was gentle getting on that one in the picture!

Conversations with friends are filled with “have you seen the lions?” and “where’s that one?” People seem to be stuck with something between curiosity and amazement that something good could come from this town, which is a worry! Having seen and heard all the views (including my own!) over what is wrong with this town, it seems to shock people that something good can happen.

People know my views on the things our Lib Dem (is it now a coalition too?) run NBC have and have not done, the site at Edmunds Hospital, Marina and Market Square say it all. But; and here is the thing, they are all done with the view that “hopefully” people will want to come to the town and maybe invest/stay.

I know that many people will say “but that is not enough!” and to be fair I do slightly agree. However, look at the lions for an example. People do like them, they look cool and get people talking… is that not the point? People love to see the Elephants in London, we spot them (or try) every time we go down to City; the lions seem to be having the same effect here.

Which is a very good thing in my view, and should surely be encouraged? How about this for an idea: more arty type stuff, more plays from local people about local things? Let us get a little crazy here, how about this too: get more things going like those wonderful Heritage Weeks? This town has so much going for it, to let that die would surely be a crime?

There are people willing to show those of us willing to learn around, I know this from first hand experience. Case and point, most people reading this blog will know Councillor Trini Crake; some will know her husband John is something of a town historian. All reading this blog will know that I am a member of my local St. John division too, and have been for a while.

Digressing for a moment, our meeting nights at St. John often consist of training, training and more training! Occasionally we have a few guest speaker nights thrown in among the training and the courses we have to do, and a few nights a year we have social evenings. Rarely do we leave the safe confines of our building, if we do it is either to attend our HQ for more training or exams; but it has not always been like this!

We have gone out to the pub! (Yes I know, admittedly we had to walk there; but it was fun!) If I am right in thinking, we have gone out to the hospital for a sort of “outside” guest speaker. The point I am trying to make is, visiting places is good fun, and it gets us out and about… which as many people will tell you, is a good thing!

Anyways, back to the plot… after bumping into John Crake going past the Guildhall, we stopped to have a little chat; during which he told me about the mark on a block outside the Guildhall which meant Northampton was so many feet (sorry I can’t remember how many now) above sea level. I never had a clue the mark was there let alone what it meant, which made me think; “what else don’t I know about my town?”

Having been around the Guildhall once (and totally enjoying it) I thought I would ask if John would show my division around too, after all many of them aren’t from Northampton (and even those that were) so they might not know about its history… of course John kindly agreed, but when I rose the subject at the meeting that night; to say it was met with the “damp squid” effect would be an understatement.

(See, there’s my rant. A slight tangent, but the usual rant I am sure you would all miss if I left it out…)

Anyways; to end, how about this for an idea: Fred and Doris, (work with me on this!) have lived here all their lives, but there is still so much they have never seen; yet they have seen it all. Both have watched a million and one different councils try their best to “make this town better,” but all that happens is the town quiets seems to die a cold death. However, this week they have been seeing more and more Meerkats (just for Alderman Dickie there) painted weird and wonderful colours; popping up around the town.

It looks so good and has everyone talking about it, so much so that Fred and Doris’s children have heard about it all; and their grandchildren! Moreover, that is not all they have heard about either! Imagine this; there are local plays at the local theatres. There are local bands playing in the local pubs and clubs, there is local art in the local art museums and a whole host of other things too boot.

However, the best thing about it all is the beautiful buildings and scenery with the amazing history. And guess what? It is something all the family can go and see, they can all experience the history (first hand maybe?) and the stunning scenery! Not only is it on Fred and Doris’s doorstep, but much of it is free! Gosh, how about that; a week where all members of a family can get something out of... who’da thunk it hey?  

Is this all a dream? I dunno, maybe; but I certainly hope not.

Wednesday 24th June 2009

The proudest night of my life, but I still wish you had been there! I know you were in sprit, but in truth it still does not make things any easier! My one saving grace, (or should that be my one of many?) is that so many friends were there. My first of many thank you’s must go to my parents and Phil, cannot begin to tell you how much it meant to me to have you all there.

My second thank you must go to Michael and Margret Hill; the Mayor and Mayoress of Northampton, thank you not just for being there but also spending all that time keeping me company. Although he seemingly only popped in, thank you to John Dickie for the hug. Sorry that you could not have stayed to see me receive my service medal, and that I didn’t get to say thank you for your column in Wednesday’s Chron… it made me smile on a day when I really needed it.

Thank you must also go to Merrick Baker-Bates for giving me the reason to stay and continue what has sometimes become a “love~hate” relationship! I am glad that I made the right choice, and I have you to thank for that. Thank you to my friends and colleagues also, those of you who have always stood by me and been there for me have no idea how much it meant (or means) to me.

Finally, I want to make a special mention to all those who thought I could not do it; all those who have belittled me and put me down/turned me down and generally not thought that much of me… my service medal is testament to the fact that I am better than you will EVER think I am or can be. THANK YOU, for making me stronger and for giving me the biggest reason to NOT give up!

On a final note, I dedicate the rest of my life with St. John to my dear friends who are no longer with us; in particular John Gardner. Thank you to all who made me who I am today, and thanks especially to Peter Tate; for making me look alright in the picture!

No More Santa?

Waking up this morning to that text message (thank you to whomever sent it...) was not exactly the best start to the morning.

There are a million and one things I would like to say, I'd tell everyone what a total gent you were. Or how you always could make me blush whenever you told anyone that would listen how nice I was!

I'd tell them how you could always be counted upon, and how you had so many stories to tell. I will never forget the one about the snake bite and the first aider... only glad that wasn't me!

What will the town do for a Santa now? M&S will be lost without you, so will the Cobblers! Every match will be empty now, no cheerful greeting at the top of the stairs for me to look forward to.

What will Thomas do for his Fat Controller now? I would have loved to take my little God daughter to see you, she would have had a blast... you too I am sure.

If I had one last chance to say goodbye, I'd make it last forever. If I had the chance to see you at the top of the stairs at the Cobblers, I'd hug you forever. I would make ever second count, knowing that those moments would have to last me forever.

I am glad I got to give you your birthday card and gift, I am thankful I got to speak to you before you left us.

With regret, the proudest day of my life will never be the same again; purely because you will not be there to celebrate with me. On Wed 24th of this month I shall be in St. Peter's Church to receive my long service medal with St. John, it will be the day I have looked forward to since I first joined St. John. My heart will be breaking as I am presented with it, I know you will be looking down on me with pride; but it still won't change the fact I wish you were there with me.

Thank you for always being there, for being the perfect gent and for being my Knight in shining armour. My town has just lost one of its legends...