Closed

Tags

high street, online shopping, shopping

I read with interest A Better Man‘s blog entitled ‘Have You Visited the Everything Store?’

Over here in the UK the ‘Everything’ store as well as rising business rates and rents are closing traditional high street stores by the dozen, as consumers choose cheaper online shopping and the convenience of not having to drive to a shopping centre, pay to park the car, and then walk to the store only to find it hasn’t got exactly what you want.

In Suffolk, the latest casualty of the Everything store is the large department store Beales, which has several branches and has been trading since 1881.  Mothercare has recently shut its doors, and in the past we’ve lost Maplins, Thomas Cook, Freeman Hardy and Willis, Tandy, Dixons, Dewhurst, MFI, Jane Norman, C&A, Comet, JJB Sports, Barratts,  Blockbuster, British Home Stores, Toys R Us, and F.W Woolworth.  House of Fraser and Debenhams aren’t looking good either, and I only hope Marks & Spencer’s hold out, as that will be the final nail in the coffin.

Our high streets are filling up with coffee shops and mobile phone shops, both of which seem to do a roaring trade.  However, if those are all that’s going to be left in our high streets in the future, then it’ll be a sad day for everyone.  Sam and I went into our local branch of that well-known coffee shop recently and asked for 2 green teas, which came to nearly £5.  I know I sound like my mother (who used to complain at the price of most things), but £5 for 2 cups of tea will ensure I’ll never cross their threshold again; I’d rather drink water and make a cup of tea when I get home!

It’s got to the point where every time I go to Bury St. Edmunds, our local town, I see another shop has closed, or that another cafe or coffee shop has opened.  Huge out-of-town supermarkets have taken the place of all the little corner shops of my youth that provided more of a personal service, and so I wonder … what will be left of our high streets for the next generation?  They’ll be able to sit with an overpriced coffee after buying their new phones, but what other shops will be available for them?  None, I expect; but that’s okay, as they’ll all be buying stuff from the ‘Everything’ store.

 

 

 

Colouring

Tags

colouring, hobbies, therapeutic

Whenever I was called on to babysit my granddaughters, I found I enjoyed sitting and colouring with them.  At the start of it all I hadn’t done any colouring since being at primary school, but found a new interest in what I would have previously called ‘remedial’ work if chosen for adults.  It seemed to pass the time very well and we all got something out of it.  We would chat as we drew and coloured.  I’d use bright felt tip pens instead of the crayons of my youth.

Out shopping I started to buy felt tip pens and adult colouring books; no, not the type with naked men in to colour (are there any?), but those containing cityscapes or the like with intricate shapes and doodlings that took a long time to complete.  I found it very calming and therapeutic to sit there with my felt tips and let my mind wander.

When Sam had a 4 hour operation to repair a ruptured Achilles’ tendon, I sat in an armchair by his bed and waited for him to come back from the operating theatre.  To pass the time I picked out a page of elaborate swirls to colour in, which I never did get to finish.  Being worried at the time I couldn’t concentrate on reading, but the colouring took my mind away from Sam for a while.  Whenever I open my colouring book and see the picture below I am always reminded of my afternoon spent at the hospital.

Watching TV I’ve seen how colouring also has a calming effect on Ozzy Osborne, Black Sabbath’s ‘Prince of Darkness’.  He gets a kick out of colouring too, and he experiences the same calming effect.  When on a cruise a few years back, adult colouring was one of the activities.  I dragged Sam along to where a smiling member of staff gave out pencils and colouring books to mostly middle aged ladies.  Sam said he hadn’t done any colouring in 50 years, but quickly set to with his pencils to produce a passable masterpiece.

Do you like colouring?  We have several colouring books indoors now, as well as at the van.  Sometimes when I sit there making sure to keep within the lines, I feel like a little girl again!

Asbestos

Tags

asbestos, asbestosis, lung disease, talcum powder

The Food & Drug Administration has issued a safety alert after reports that asbestos has been found after testing in certain make-up products sold by a UK high street accessory chain.  The eye-shadow and compact powder has been removed, along with any other talc-based cosmetic products.

Asbestos can be found in talc if the talc is not sufficiently purified, and talc is a common ingredient in many cosmetics to prevent caking.  Many mines that collect talc also contain asbestos, as the two minerals are found close together.

Asbestos is banned in the UK, but not yet in the US (asbestos has also been found in some US cosmetic products from one particular high street chain).  Buildings older than 20 years may still contain asbestos in floors, roofs, ceilings and walls, but if the asbestos is not disturbed it poses little risk.  However, if it is disturbed it releases tiny fibres which could cause cancer.  It can also settle in the lungs and might cause breathing difficulties in time.

Back in the early 1960s I lived with my parents in one of those post-war prefabricated houses, where all the walls were made with asbestos.  I threw tennis balls at the walls for years, driving my mother mad.  In this photo you can just about see the white asbestos walls behind us.

Mum lived to 92 without any breathing difficulties, but did contract cancer in her sixties, which was successfully treated.  Dad died of cancer in 1977 at the age of only 49, and I battled thyroid cancer for 13 years before finally getting rid of it in 2017 (hopefully!).

Were our cancers caused by asbestos?  Who knows?  I’ve never worn make up, but did use talcum powder for years until my mother told me around 2014 that it wasn’t a good idea.  It’s rather worrying that asbestos can be found in make up.  My young granddaughters are plastering it on their faces.  I was never allowed to wear it, and as I grew up I found that I didn’t want to use it anyway.  However, I liked using talcum powder, but these days I find that my usual supermarket has taken it off the shelves due to the fact that they didn’t want to get sued by anybody claiming  their cancer had been caused by talcum powder they’d bought from the store.

Be careful…

We don’t know what’s really in the products we use, even though we read the labels.  Asbestos isn’t mentioned on talcum powder ingredients, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not in there!

---

Featured image by Jennifer Beebe from Pixabay

A Tribute

I was saddened today to hear of the death of Neil Peart, who had been the drummer with the Canadian progressive rock band Rush for 45 years before retiring in 2015.  He was 67 and had been suffering with brain cancer, and in my opinion was the best rock drummer of all time.

We have been to several Rush concerts over the years, and I thought I’d share a couple of links of my favourite drummer playing his part in two of the best Rush songs ever written – the atmospheric ‘Witch Hunt‘ and ‘Subdivisions‘.  I’ve added a photo that we took from our vantage point in the Hallam Arena back in 2002, so that you can see the awesome drum kit that he played, and another one to prove we’d been there and got the t-shirts (I’m with my son and daughter-in-law in 2002)!

 

 

Rest in peace, Neil.  He was only 5 years older than I am now.  Neil’s early demise tells me that life is short, and that we must make the most of it while we’re able to.

 

 

A Most Extraordinary Book

I’m reading a rather extraordinary book at the moment – The Overstory, by Richard Powers.  I’m a lover of trees, and find it depressing at Christmas to see so many cut down and then discarded.  When I read a review of the book I knew I had to read it for myself (a relative was kind enough to buy it for me for a Christmas present after I’d dropped several hints).  The book won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction last year and was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2018.

As I turn the pages I realise I’ll never be able to write anything as good as this.  I’d love to know how long it took the author to research and write it.  The book centres on trees, and how several individual characters interact with certain trees in their particular storyline.  Yes, it’s a strange topic for a work of fiction, but it’s quite amazing how the author weaves the trees and the people together.  Mr Powers is also obviously stating his case for the environmental damage that has already been done to our planet.

So … how do I carry on writing after reading something as awesome as this, and what’s the point of even trying?  It’s a hard question because I’d hate to give up doing something I love, yet what I write seems trite compared to this novel.  However, looking at The Overstory’s reviews on Amazon, some readers do not like it at all, which just goes to show that you cannot please all the readers all the time.

That old chestnut (excuse the pun) acceptance comes into it too.  Accept that I’m like thousands of other common-or-garden self-publishers who write for a hobby, and that there are only a few writers like Mr Powers who are talented enough to stand out amongst the masses.

In my opinion the book is worthy of every award it earns.  However, it’s caused me to step back and evaluate my own work, and whether it’s a good idea to just leave writing books to the professionals.  But then again… even the professionals had to start somewhere.  I may never be as good a writer as Richard Powers, but at the end of the day it’s not in my nature to give up.

I’ve got another 400 or so pages to go yet before I finish the book.  Anyone who loves trees and nature should definitely read The Overstory!

 

 

 

Venus and Mars

Sam and I set out on a bike ride recently, which included what must have been the only hill in Suffolk.  I was panting a bit when we got to the top, and we stopped so that I could catch my breath and have a sip of water.

As we sat there taking in the view, a group of male cyclists sped by.  There was one leader out in front, and the rest trailed behind with another one bringing up the rear.  I think they must have been part of a local cycling group, as they all wore similar tops.  We said the usual ‘good morning’ that everyone says in Suffolk, and they answered us with a similar greeting as they went by.

I mentioned to Sam before we set off, that if the group had been all-female, they would have been more together and chatting rather than a leader out in front.  If there had been a leader, then she would have been aware of the one at the back and would have slowed her pace.  Sam replied that the leader of the group of male cyclists would probably be more worried about not going fast enough for the group, and so would not think much about the one at the back.

On my favourite flat bit of road leading into our village is always the time when Sam lets go of the handlebars and cycles along faster with both hands in his pockets.  It would never occur to me to want to do this, as I’d worry about falling base over apex.  Sam grins and says he feels about 12 years old again when he does this.

Women and men really are from Venus and Mars respectively, aren’t they?

 

Molly

Tags

parenting

Molly is a very lifelike baby doll that my granddaughter Cassie had to take home for a weekend, as she is currently studying child development at school.  Each child in the class had to take a turn, and 14 year old Cassie was eager to discover the delights of caring for a ‘newborn’.

Cassie was issued with a non-removable electronic wristband that recorded the distance between her and the doll, thus enabling the school to ensure that Cassie didn’t just drop the doll in a cupboard and forget about it until it was time to return to school on the Monday morning.  The wristband also recorded when the doll was fed or had its nappy changed, and how long it cried for. Marks would be awarded to the most attentive students, and Cassie wanted to obtain the highest grade for her ‘work’ over the weekend.

The first problem occurred when Cassie realised that she would have to travel home on the school bus with Molly, who cried at irregular intervals just as a newborn baby does.  My daughter-in-law was summoned to pick her up in the car to avoid the embarrassment of having to face hordes of teenage boys on the bus with a crying  doll in her arms.

Back at home, Molly’s cries soon began to grate on Cassie’s nerves.  She picked the doll up, rocked it, ‘changed’ its nappy and ‘fed’ it, but it still cried.  When she told me this it brought back memories of my 24 year old self let loose with newborn Leon suffering with colic.  Like Cassie I remember being in floods of tears by the time Sam came home from work.  Sam, ever cool in a crisis, took Leon and straight away sat down with him in perfect silence.  Leon, now 37, came home from work and found Cassie in floods of tears holding Molly, who wouldn’t stop crying.  Leon, a father of 2 and well trained by now in pacifying babies, showed Cassie how to rock the doll to shut it up.

At night-time, the doll had to be by Cassie’s side due to the electronic wristband.  Cassie’s sleep, usually peaceful and undisturbed, began to be pierced by Molly’s shrill tones at unearthly hours of the morning.  She was soon in Leon and Kelly’s room complaining that the doll would not be quiet.  The whole household began night manoeuvres, walking up and down with Molly, changing its nappy, feeding it copious amounts of ‘milk’, and generally rocking the hell out of it.  I wanted to roar with laughter, as memories of rocking Leon backwards and forwards in his pushchair at 2am came to mind.

After a Sunday night also spent in absolute torture, Cassie, by then tired and irritable,  had decided that she would never ever have a baby, and that she couldn’t wait to return it to school.  Kelly drove her in on Monday morning, and she fairly ran out of the car with Molly firmly under one arm.

I had to keep a straight face as Cassie related the sad tale of her first attempts at child-rearing.  Like her I wondered what had hit me in the first few months of Leon’s life, and did not know how on earth I was going to manage.  But manage I did, because of course there’s a strong bond between a mother and her baby.   I tried to explain to Cassie that it’s a bit different when you have your own real-life baby to look after because you love the bones of it, but she wasn’t listening.

I suppose it’s a good thing that she got to face the reality of looking after a newborn just at the crucial time when puberty decided to strike.  Do you suppose that’s why the school decided to farm Molly out to a whole class of teenage girls?  Who knows – it just might prevent a few unwanted pregnancies.  Poor old Molly; It sounds as though Leon scored the highest marks as regards keeping the doll quiet!

 

 

 

 

 

Another One Gone

Today I brought my New Year resolution forward a little bit.  I promised myself to cut down on social media, and so today LinkedIn bit the dust.  I feel quite liberated, because apart from a few people, the rest of the 650 were only there for the sole purpose of trying to sell me something.

As far as I’m concerned, another social media site gone is a great weight off my shoulders.  Now I don’t have to keep checking it, because it’s not there any more!  Currently the only sites I use regularly are WordPress and Twitter.  MeWe is just for my book promotion group and nothing else, and so I’ve decided that two main sites are more than enough for one person.  Instagram went last year, and I haven’t looked back.

What’s the point of an author being chained to a computer constantly checking sites that are never going to be of any use?  This whole social media thing has crept up on me over a period of time and completely took over my life.  I’ve found that I’ve had to rid myself of an addiction by weaning myself off social media bit by bit.

Yes, we authors are told to ‘engage’.  Ninety nine percent of the people I have engaged with are authors themselves, who as far as I can tell are all part of the same social media rat-run.  However, I’ve decided I can engage with them just as well using only WordPress and Twitter; they don’t need to see my blog shared over the whole of cyberworld and may even thank me for cutting down!

The spare time I will undoubtedly gain, I will use for reading.  Throughout my life I’ve always been able to sit happily with a book, but social media intruded and the books that I completed decreased as the addiction took hold.  Sitting on my decking in the sunshine this week I’ve started ‘The Overstory’, which was a Christmas present and may take me some time to complete as it contains more than 600 pages.

A social media addiction causes the ‘Fear of Missing Out’ factor (FOMO) and a ‘Fear of My Stats Falling’ Syndrome (FOSF), the symptoms of both are a twitchy and constant need to keep checking notifications and an unfounded fear of being forgotten in cyberworld.  The gradual weaning off social media is working for me … it’s got to the situation where I find I don’t really care if my stats are high or low.  They’ve been low over Christmas because I haven’t written many blogs, and I’m okay with that.  I’ve had a lovely time walking about in the sunshine with Sam on the Isle of Wight and furnishing our new van.

So… here’s the question:  Do you think you have a social media addiction?  Do you suffer with FOMO and FOSF?  Would you like to cut some of your social media sites out?  I’d be interested to read your comments.  However, I’m turning my computer off after I publish this blog, and so I’ll leave it until tomorrow to answer them.

 

Notes from a Small Island – December

Sam and I are enjoying some quiet time at our new van.  Unfortunately, as soon as we arrived here I came down with a cold – the first one I’ve had all year!  Nevertheless it’s rather pleasant to know there’s nothing much that needs doing, apart from long walks along the beach and the chance to sit and read.  Sam’s currently installing a room thermostat this morning while I log in and catch up, but after that the day is ours to do with as we wish.

I’ve been thinking about what’s happened in 2019 as regards my hobby as an Indie author.  I published my anthology ‘Understanding‘ in April, my paranormal novel ‘Partners in Time‘ in May, a paranormal novella ‘Finding David‘ also in May, and my suspense novella ‘Examining Kitchen Cupboards‘ earlier this month.  I’ve also had a short story included in Kaye Lynne Booth’s paranormal anthology ‘Whispers of the Past‘.  So all in all I’m happy with that.  I’ve also managed to read 18 books on my Goodreads’ Challenge, which is 6  more than I originally signed up for.

I’ve also cut down a bit on social media.  I’ve deleted my Facebook account and am just going to stick to mainly WordPress and Twitter and carry on running a street team book promotion group from my MeWe account.  LinkedIn will also get the elbow, as all it consists of is people trying to sell me something. Trying to keep up with too many social media sites is a great time suck and can be quite stressful.  At my age I’ve decided I don’t need the stress!

Although I’m a bit under the weather and sneezing at the moment,  I’m happy with what 2019 has brought.  We have a new van to enjoy, and look forward to welcoming family members and friends to share in barbeques during the summer.  There’s an empty space where our old van stood, but they left the doormat where the gate used to be.  It was sad to see it go, but we realise these vans don’t last forever.

Hope 2020 brings all you wish for.  We have a few more days here to enjoy our R&R, a disco and buffet on New Year’s Eve, and then back to work on 2nd January.

Atishoo!  Love from Stevie. X

Share Your Christmas Short Story – Winner

Hi all,

I had several entries for the Christmas competition,  and I enjoyed reading them all.  I singled out Darlene Foster’s ‘The Bright Lights of Christmas‘ as a winner, which instead of fake commercialism, incorporates the true meaning of Christmas.

https://darlenefoster.wordpress.com/2019/12/15/the-bright-lights-of-christmas/

Congratulations, Darlene, here’s your laurel to display, and do I have your permission to post this story in the anthology I’ll compile in 2020?

 

 

Don’t forget to check out these other great stories and poems below:

 

Richard Dee :  A Winter’s Tale https://richarddeescifi.co.uk/a-winters-tale-2/

Times & Tides of a Beachwriter:  ‘I, Isabella’.

https://tidalscribe.wordpress.com/2019/12/13/friday-christmas-fiction-i-isabella/

D.G Kaye:  What’s in Your Stocking?  https://dgkayewriter.com/share-your-christmas-short-story-or-poem-stevie-turner/

Abbie Johnson Taylor:  Silent Night

https://abbiescorner.wordpress.com/2019/12/10/silent-night-fiction-2/

Toritto:  Thoughts on Writing Out Christmas Cards

https://toritto.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/thoughts-on-writing-out-christmas-cards-a-re-post/

S R Bottch:  Today I Smell Gingerbread.  A Holiday Story  https://srbottch.com/2019/12/15/today-i-smell-gingerbread-a-holiday-story/

The next competition will be in February. 

I had a look through my most popular posts, and ‘Share Your Short Story’ and ‘Share Your Short Story / Winners’ seem to be the most viewed, and so thanks to all who have supported the contest in the past.  

I’ll have a bit of a blogging break after today, as I will be deluged with relatives and then Sam and I are off to the van for a 5 day break on the 27th.  So all that’s left to say is happy Christmas, and I hope the New Year brings all you wish for.  See you in 2020.  Love from Stevie. x