Alternately:
- Circle of Prejudice
- Circle of Segregation
- Circle of Unfortunate Events

Ha ha, had you fooled. Did you think the ruminations would stop post 39? Unlucky (or lucky) for you, the ‘and counting’ might have given it away.  The best part is that I will remain 39 (and counting) in the worldwide web forever.

Thank you, yes I made it and I am still here – making it through 12.12.12 and passing 40 unscathed made for a hectic week.  Quick checklist of the goals I foolishly set myself  last July when I started putting words on the page, lets see:

1. Realising the dream.  You have to know what the dream is to realize it. 2 out of 10 for effort – I have thought about it.
2. The novel .  Hmmm well I do write a lot, not that it’s in any structure, nor does it resemble a novel but it’s a start.
3. Anti-ageing.  I am still waiting for Darphin to send me an enormous selection of free products on the back of the highly flattering words in my post.  My face therefore is still getting older by the day (more so since 15^th December) and I think I may be waiting another 40 years before hearing from them.
4. The Fear. What can I say, I haven’t managed to change ANY of my habits; good, bad and indifferent and therefore The Fear is still at large. Perhaps pre-50?
5. Exercise. Cough hmmm
6. Food and Drink.  Yes please.
7. Celebrations.  The only thing I can 100% say I have achieved and will achieve  (thanks to hubby) when my London trip takes place in January.  Marvelous
8. Gift list.  No tooth fairy or dental benefactor has shown up as yet with a fat cheque so I will continue into this next decade one tooth down and hope that people continue not to notice (or so they say).  Kindle – check (thanks girls), replacement trinkets/watch – on the way, child free night – check.  What a lucky girl.
9. Technology.  Not that I have taken it off the shelf yet but I am now in possession of an iphone.  When I work out to use it I will update.  I have been educated by a number of people following the technophobe post and would like to point out that it is not age that makes me useless with technology, the blame lies firmly at the feet of myself at any age.  Thank you for everyone’s knowledge sharing – if I was more interested I would probably remember the advice.
10. High heels are my new best friend.  OK so they are not high, but they aren’t flat so definitely A for effort of this front.

Happy birthday fellow Saggitarians and fellow new 40 somethings.  Let the games begin.

I am no Spring Chicken – in my fifties and with a grandchild I think I can claim to be comfortably middle aged. I became disabled a couple of years ago with severe joint pains and deteriorating ligaments and have struggled with my mobility and the pain since, using my walking stick and relying on my car much more.  It has been a challenge at times, but as I blogged a while back it has also brought blessings. It forced me to re-evaluate what I do and how I do it – from a bouncy and energetic boss (probably rather irritating in hindsight…!) to a more paced and interactive leader, I think my style of management improved. I know the quality of my relationships improved as I had no choice but to take time to listen and engage with people rather than hop around being dynamic! I see people doing that whole energetic-crazy-lookatme-letsgetitdone crap now and frankly it simply annoys me and I can see it annoying others. It fails to engage, fails to create the right relationships. So I am grateful for my disability, however weird that sounds. It liberated me and gave me better relationships and much better insight into how people, organisations and relationships work. It also, incidentally, showed me who my friends were………

So, I am middle-aged but only in my fifties, not ancient (although I suspect my children might disagree). And I was about to say this morning  that my disability was “only” about age; to reduce and trivialise it and degrade it as unimportant because I am older. Well,  sod that for a decade of the rosary. Age, disability, even simply being a woman, are too often trivialised. We are expected, as we get older, to put up with more and more crap, to recede into the background and fade away, to sit at home, be grateful, and wait to die. Either that or lose our dignity in the rush to appease the Gods of Youth and have ever more flesh tweaked and sliced and be more and more uncomfortable in our own skins. But whatever we do we are trivialised – my own Mothers experience of hospital care as she was dying, in her eighties, was cruel, undignified and inhumane beyond belief. The recent outcry about the Liverpool Pathway is entirely justified, and certainly from what I witnessed during that time nursing as an overall profession has lost much of its claim to moral high ground and to “caring”,  notwithstanding the few – very few – nurses who still seemed to give a damn. The elders on the ward my Mother was on – a Stroke ward which was bizarrely touted as excellent by inspectors who mercifully never had to actually use the service – were stripped of any dignity, denied care and compassion, and hardly viewed as human beings by the people with the word “care” in their job descriptions. If it had been a childrens ward there would have been a justified public outcry. Why should age reduce that need for dignity and care? Our expectations should not be lowered incrementally with our increasing years.

And that, my friend, is why I stopped myself saying that my disability was “only” age related. That does no favours to either elders or the disabled. Whatever age we are, whatever the disability, wherever we come from, we should never be expected to tolerate less than humane treatment and compassion. Whether we are ex-offenders or inmates, elders or children, Christian, Atheist, Muslim or Jewish, living in poverty or comfortably off – whether we live in an affluent state or a developing nation – we deserve the benefit of humanity. It is never “only” age, colour, status.

There are many organisations who deserve our support in order to protect our humanity and dignity. Please check out, for that reason, the following organisations, as well as your own, more local, ones and others:

PACT http://www.prisonadvice.org.uk/

NACRO http://www.nacro.org.uk/

Spark Inside http://www.sparkinside.org/

AGE Uk http://www.ageuk.org.uk/

The National Autistic Society http://www.autism.org.uk/

Hft http://www.hft.org.uk/

St Martins Emmaus http://www.emmaus.org.uk/

Porchlight http://www.porchlight.org.uk/

Demelza House http://www.demelza.org.uk/

The Big Issue http://www.bigissue.org.uk/

UNICEF http://www.unicef.org.uk/

- You can live without sex but not without glasses. - Your back goes out more than you do. - You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who walks into the room.

Juz  sayin…

A woman’s idea of romance is candles and satin sheets. A man’s idea of romance is “Hi Honey, I bought you some edible underwear!”

You have to stay in shape. My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She’s 97 today and we don’t know where the hell she is.

I pretend to work here, they pretend to pay me.

I am a nobody, nobody is perfect, therefore I am perfect.

Why don’t oysters give to charity?   Because they’re shellfish.

Ok I’ll try better next week I promise.

But beneath that benign and flavoursome surface, brown and scented, there is a backstory to make the Borgias tremble.

Do you make tea in your office? Do you make tea for everyone in your office? Do you visit each office on your floor, each room in your office, each desk in each room, and ask if anyone wants a brew? Or are you selective? Do you notice who asks whom? Do you spot that Hilda in the HR department always asks the chaps in Business Development if they want a brew, but never ventures as far as Finance? Do you notice that the PA to the CEO makes his tea and tea for the Ops Director but not for the MD? Do you feel offended that Sue takes her tray around to three of the five offices but misses yours, even though you always buy her a drink at the Christmas do? Do you deliberately whip past Jacks office door with the tray so he won’t notice that you are missing him out in your disapproval of his office romance? Or do you make sure he does see you with your tray so that he clocks your disapproval? Do you preen a little when the Finance Director offers you a (rare) cup when he is trying to get a favour from your team? Do you recognise that the woman with the gammy arm never makes tea not because she hates you all, but because she can’t manage the tray, or do you hold firm to your tea-induced prejudice that tells you that anyone making, or not making, tea has an ulterior motive?

The teacup has become a Weapon of Mild Distraction in offices across the country, where staff wait, with bated breath and an offence poised to be taken, to see who pours for whom and who gets the Jaffa Cake and who gets the HobNob. And as for the cakes………..

Tea, the cup that could cheer.  I have an idea: let’s use the teacup in the friendly way it was intended – I will if you will! Pop the kettle on, rattle the tea caddy, rustle that biscuit packet, and let’s raise a cup to friendship (or if not friendship, at least human warmth and a commitment to get along  ) and promise to work together in harmony and peace.  That ritual of preparation has been developed for a reason – to allow us to connect, show affection and warmth, and keep our hands busy. Let’s get brewing! Mine’s a Rooibosh!

An older man is distinguished, he greys with salt and pepper flecks.  He can carry off style without the fear of being called mutton, but he goes bald.  Unlucky.  There’s no disguising age when your once thick barnet is reduced to a bush at the back and sides and some wisps on the top.  Men do of course have the option of shaving it all off at the first signs of loss, luckily the ‘fashion’ of bygone decades of the comb over is long gone (Was that really a fashion or just blatant denial?).  What though if you have a funny shaped head?

I have a friend who as far as I can recall has never had anything but a shiny pate.  Another friend was looking forward to going grey, he always had a penchant for older men, the greyer the better, and although he was always pretty distinguished – how many students do you know wore silk house coats (aka dressing gown) and warmed their 2.99 merlot on the radiator? – he is now uber gentlemanly with his greying locks.

Other age giveaways for men? Well; ear hair, nose hair, mutant eyebrows (hair growth everywhere but the head) and the male equivalent of the muffin top; the beer belly, which appears with or without drinking beer. In my limited experience I have seen that men tend to a) care less than women and b) take up sports with more gusto than women which combats the belly issues although can’t help with the random hair growth.

In our age of male grooming and Mr. Metrosexual, men are more likely to own some kind of beauty product and doubtless many wives have had the tweezers out on their other halves to keep them well presented.  A facial balm or a body scrub was probably unknown vocabulary to our fathers’, not so to our male peers.  I do have to add a small disclaimer at this point as my husband wouldn’t know a balm if it smeared itself on his nose (perhaps not a bad idea).

Here in Israel the men are especially well kept. Due to the climate and the outdoor lifestyle, a Mediterranean diet and yearly army service until at least 40, a good proportion keep themselves trim (another disclaimer?  No, I won’t involve specific people).  Also people don’t really drink here.  Yes I know it’s crazy but you’d be hard pushed to find an Israeli fella who looks forward to a few pints down the pub a couple of times a week.  No offense to my fellow countrymen but the cold climate, bangers and mash and Stella Artois need more sessions down the gym and no weekly beach visit means less need to worry about stripping off in front of strangers for the Brits.  Now before you all start I know there are many exceptions but I have been to the swimming baths in the UK and I know what I have seen (it still haunts me).

Someone recently told me that men lose themselves between the age of 40 and 55 and if you’re a single lady of a certain age you should grab them before or after this period if you want true fulfillment.  When I asked for some clarity she said that the whole ageing, career, keeping up with the Brad Pitts is just too all-consuming for multi-task shy fellas and so trying to start a relationship with them is just destined to fail.  This sounds like it’s one of my sweeping generalizations, but maybe she has a point.  Most of the men I know of this age are married or gay so I have no evidence to prove or disprove her theory.  I do know that career is paramount and providing for your family or maintaining a certain standard of living is key to many of my male peers.

I had a look to see which men are fellow 2012 40 year olds and lo and behold, my fave Hollywood male celeb Ben Affleck plus dishy Josh Duhamel, Chris Tucker and Eminem have had big birthdays this year as will Jude Law (speaking of going bald) just 2 short weeks after me.  It’s hard to equate these men with us mere mortals, they have the time and the money to age sophisticatedly just like the women from this vintage.  For some reason I was surprised, I really considered these men to be younger than me – especially Eminem, let’s face it he will always be 27.

So what’s the answer for men of my generation, well first and foremost it helps if you’re gay.  Without exception every gay man I know who is 40 or over is very well turned out.  Second, if you’re married; listen to your wife she really does know best, really, and third buy a nose trimmer, every little helps.

Borrowed from http://www.coloribus.com because it made me chuckle for a very long time

1. I cannot speak on the phone during their waking hours
2. I seldom have waking hours outside of theirs
3. I am always the mother being tutted at/sympathised with on the park
4. I have single handedly filled a land fill with nappies
5. My house has a faint whiff of pee (or maybe that’s just my imagination)

2 year old twins are the stuff of parenting challenges.  As one is safely ensconced in a pram/car seat another escapes, as one stops shouting for Mummy, water, food, toilet the other starts.  It’s a non-stop attention shop in my house.  Now that the twins can also speak, the noise in the house can reach dangerous levels, add to that the fact they so far speak a different language to mine makes it a challenge with a twist.  It’s one thing understanding the noise in English, quite another when its coming at you in a mix of English, Hebrew and baby talk – ‘what are you saying?’

There are a few key words necessary to know when entering my domain if you are not a Hebrew speaker.

1. Mime – (water) sounds like mine so at any point they could be referring to either water or a belonging of theirs
2. Cacky – (poo) not to be mistaken with cracker (cacka) one of the twins’ favourite food stuffs.  Cacky comes with a smell or a squatting toddler
3. Od – (more) often said 15 times over at a gradually louder level
4. Zay oo – (finished/enough) usually heard on the park when the swing/slide is scarily high or when a plate is sent skimming across the table to the floor.
5. Die – (stop) don’t think too literally on this one, ‘Mummy, die!’ ‘die die die’ can be heard repeatedly from all 3 kids directed at a parent or each other.

My children came arguably late on in life, the first at 35 and I have wondered on occasion if this extreme parenting would have been easier had I been 25.  Do 29 year olds get as tired as 39 year olds after a day with the childers? As I remember it, I was having a blast at 29 and was far from ready for the responsibility of children so I don’t regret the timing, just wish my physical make up in my mid to late 20s could have stuck around until after the teething, the diving to catch one heading into danger and the pushing of a pram carrying 42 kilos was over.

My kids make me see things through fresh eyes, ‘Mummy you do nothing at home’ said the 4 year old when we were discussing what people did for jobs the other day.  They are also a constant reminder of my shortcomings, ‘how does a satellite stay in the sky?’, and a catalyst for self-improvement, ’build us a house out of these boxes, we need to recycle’.  They introduce me to the otherwise unknown or forgotten world of Balamory, snail farms and fairy princesses and for all those reasons and more, they are my most important reason to celebrate as they are the greatest achievement in my 40 years.  To top it all I also get to be carried along by their excitement which is sure to surpass my own on my big day.

“Anything invented before your fifteenth birthday is the order of nature. That’s how it should be. Anything invented between your 15th and 35th birthday is new and exciting, and you might get a career there. Anything invented after that day, however, is against nature and should be prohibited.” Douglas Adams (author of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)

Last night my 4-year-old taught me what to do with those bar code looking picture things on adverts.  See, I don’t even know what they are called and seeing as my phone doesn’t have a camera or even predictive text for that matter, I am not sure I will be reaping the benefits of this advertising tool in the near future.

I am the last of the technophobes, I don’t own an i anything, no pod, no pad, no phone. I’m not sure I could work them if I did own them – oh yeah I could ask one of my 2 year olds to teach me.  They already try to change screens on the laptop by touching the screen; very annoying and more importantly how on earth do they know touch screen technology?  Not from our luddite house, that’s for sure.

Remember when you watched with wonder sci-fi on the tv as a kid?

Wow wouldn’t it be amazing if we could see the person we were talking to on the phone?  Wow.

Imagine if we could walk around and talk to someone on the phone without being attached to a cable. Wow

Imagine if we could talk into a watch? hmmm

Imagine if we could be transported to a different place?

WOW

OK so maybe the last one isn’t possible (yet) but wouldn’t it be cool if it was?  I could nip home to visit whenever I felt like it.  Bye bye budget travel, not nice knowing you.

Thinking about all these new gadgets and how they literally used to be the stuff of science fiction brought to mind that old BBC classic, Blake’s 7.   In short it was a low-budget sci-fi drama whose main characters were Blake, Avon, Jenna, Vila, Cally, Gan and Zen the computer. Hmmm, yes, says it all really. I wanted to be Cally (?)  I also used to colour my soda stream lemonade with food dye as their blue and green drinks looked exotic. I remember it seeming terribly hi-tech at the time – take a look now, not so much 

With only two weeks to go until B day, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I have to add become more techno savvy to my list of things to do before 40.  The fact you are reading this is in itself a miracle (of course it could be just myself I am amusing).

Actually, is there anybody out there?

Ok – your toothbrush was hardly dry when you realised that there were some things you didn’t realise about your other half. Love was in the air, you knew you had made the right choice, but you were becoming aware that some of the things you had been told were less than truthful – some were lies of omission, and some were downright porkies.  But hey, that’s what we do sometimes when we want to impress so you forgive. But as time goes on you discover bigger porkies, more major gaps. You start to get angry and you have rows, shout a bit, let it out a bit. You begin to regret committing.

STOP!

Think about it. Think about the reasons you had for committing – the rush of excitement, the feeling of rightness, the opportunities to do stuff you enjoy (shhh….!!!!). Take  time to reflect on the  face you fell for, the reasons you felt the excitement, the rush of affection. Step away from the disappointment of finding out the flaws, look at the love.

Ok, you will know by now that I am also talking about taking that new job. You were wooed by an organisation who needed you and fell for you too. They put their most attractive side forward to attract you and perhaps were less than honest about the flaws. Weren’t you also a little eager? You fell for the job as well as the organisation, you felt that lurch in your heart for the role, became excited by the opportunities, perhaps you overlooked the clues that might have been there because you wanted it so much……….you have had jobs before, you know the score, you will have noticed the clues, you chose to ignore them in that heady rush towards commitment!

If you care deeply about what you do, if you have high expectations of your professional colleagues, if you buy into the carefully crafted appearance of the organisation, you will feel disappointment when those flaws surface. The extent of your disappointment will depend on two things: the extent of the flaws and whether they are more important than the rewards and the opportunities to achieve. But before you bale, reflect on whether the organisation also cares as much as you do about what you do. If it does, if there is a shared drive, put that anger away, reach out your hand of friendship and support, and walk forwards together towards that shared goal. The flaws  may or may not be repaired, you may or may not regain that first flush of love, but perhaps you may both be stronger for the honesty and the clearer vision.

Feel the love, look with clarity on that face, and try again.

for more details, visit http://www.toyarena.com/product_info.php/371-gundam-age-normal-doublebullet-model-kit-p-6629

My life has been changed by a hoover, well an electric Ewbank – remember them? No more down on the knees with a dustpan, the childers are now encouraged to make as much mess as they like, then they can whizz round Mummy’s new  toy and everything is spick and span.

The bigger problem now is how to stop the fight for whose go it is.  I always win.  My house has never been so crumb free.

Would I have cared so much even five years ago?  Is it the arrival of 3 kids in 2 short years that tipped me into old age or is it simply the fact that a household appliance has a greater worth when you reach 40?  Who knows.  Who cares.  This hoover is better than any fancy face cream, jewellery, fashion accessory or even new shoes (although only just). This hoover has truly changed my life.

And it would seem I am not alone http://housekeeping.about.com/od/productreviews/gr/SharkVX3.htm

There are a couple of reasons for the obsession.  Firstly, for women shoe sizes don’t change too much so if you are having a fat day your shoes will always fit and you don’t have to see yourself in the neon lit mirror in the changing rooms.  Secondly, shoes are one of the biggest statements you can make in an instant. I know, I read fashion magazines.  Nothing says I’m cool, successful, confident like the right pair of shoes. It works for men too; never trust a man in a pair of loafers, especially if he’s sockless.

I have a height problem.  I am too tall.   I know that loads of people think this is a good thing but when your husband is half an inch taller than you and all you friends, bar one is shorter, then flat shoes are the way forward, ho ho.  I do not like feeling like Herman Munster.  My gorgeous sister is at least 3 inches taller than me and has no problem sporting 3 inch heels but I jut can’t do it, much as I’d love to.  The giant feeling is not something I embrace so the many pairs of impulse buy heels I own come out of the cupboard before a night out, are tried on and then returned to the cupboard in favour of some flatties.

As a result of my tallness I have amassed quite a collection of flat shoes, mostly of the sportswear variety although as we know I don’t partake in sport.  A very good friend once gave me a piece of invaluable advice called the shoe trouser ratio; the bottom of your trouser must cover exactly the right amount of trainer for the look to work.  This principle also works for other shoes and boots and, I think, is something you should all be aware of.

So the question has to be at what point do we start wearing old lady shoes?  My fear being that one day I am 40 in a pair of high tops and the next I am sporting rubber soled foot gloves.   Maybe when you hit a certain age  you just don’t care anymore and just shop where all the other old ladies shop.  Hopefully it’s around age 85.  For now I am going to try to shake the heel phobia, start on a low half-inch and work up.  If time keeps passing so quickly I’ll be in the foot gloves phase and will have missed the opportunity to wear lady shoes.

New Shoes, Paulo Nutini http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmbUNF1Q4R8

At 4 it’s a something

By 5 and a half, age is a competition

Until 11

Then it becomes really important

To be older.

At 16 it’s better to be 17

At 17 better to be 18

From 18 til 24 youth is everything

But appreciated.

From 25 life choices are pondered

Until 30 when a new word enters the vocabulary

Ageing.

35 is the clock ticking

Until 40 and then

It’s mutton dressed as lamb

Life begins at 40

And we’re all the new 30 again.

Excellent.

An Institute of Leadership & Management document dropping out of some interesting research says:

“There are few other occupational areas where it would be considered normal to appoint someone to a role without any training before or immediately afterwards. The research suggests that the majority of managers receive no training before or immediately after their appointment, causing a skills gap as applicants step up to first line manager level. The research identified three key skills that were desired at all levels of management – communication, people management, and organisation and planning. Developing these skills in all employees will prepare them for management and assist them in their day-to-day work. It will improve communication with colleagues and management, help them manage suppliers and contractors, and help them organise their own workload”.

The bold highlights are mine

Source - http://www.i-l-m.com/downloads/Research_talentpipeline_july2012.pdf

93%
of respondents say low levels of management skills are impacting on their business

47%
of employers cite lack of internal staff capability as the biggest barrier to an effective management pipeline

57%
of employers have a plan in place to ensure a pool of future leaders and managers

18%
of UK employers expect managers to have received any management training prior to appointment

I don’t think I need to add anything……………………

Well, to be blunt, it’s you.

Those wilting shrinking violets will thrive on a conversation, good use of their talents acknowledged and rewarded, and good, solid, old fashioned engagement. You remember, before we all had to grab the latest buzzwords and trends, when we talked to people, took an interest in them as individuals, noticed their talents and enabled them to achieve.

There is little doubt that Hockney, if faced with the blundering disempowerment of having to paint your shed a nice shade of taupe, would find a way to creatively subvert that and create something better. Your teams are probably doing the same in their own way and within the limits you have imposed on them. Free them from those shackles of under-estimation and your own fear of being exposed as having areas of weakness and let them paint their masterpieces and practice their etchings. Nurture and release them and they will come back to you with riches and rewards, smiles and friendship, and a genuine gratitude that no money could ever buy.

WAIT! Before you answer… Read this post!

Let’s face it, if you are under 21, you wish you were older and if you are over 21, you wish you were younger.

That’s the fact of life, and there’s no changing it.

Age is important to us for many different reasons but a model’s age is even more sacred for a very particular reason.

One of the most important secrets that a model holds dearly to his/her heart is the infamous birth date or age info.  It’s for good reason why it’s kept a secret too.

Two words:

 Type Cast!

Take a look a the following photos. What similarities and differences do  you see?

Similarities? Well, that’s obvious…  they are all me.

Differences? That’s obvious too.

It’s true that these photos were not taken around the same time, but a couple of months apart. Because I know I haven’t aged that much in that time, Here’s the point I’m trying to make:

With a wardrobe, hair, styling, attitude, and pose change, you can be a completely different person. In one photo you can look like a young school boy/girl and the other, an edgy pirate!

You need to prove to modeling professionals how versatile you can be. If you tell them your actual age at let’s say an interview, they will most likely type cast you and possibly not consider you for other projects you might be a good fit for.

So what do you do when someone from the industry asks you for your age?

Some models lie. That is too risky.

I would advise you to give a range of the different looks you can achieve. For example, you can say that you have a range of 20-30.

Just remember:

If you are a professional model, you NEVER EVER EVER give your age so easily and openly… at least without a fight.

So what are you going to do the next time someone asks you the “million dollar question?”

-XingKai

Don’t tell him I said this, but sometimes it takes someone older and wiser to put things in perspective and to look forward and not back.

I have long understood that turning 40 was no big thing but for some reason it knocked me for six when at 39 I realised I only had a year of ‘youth’ left.  Obviously this is nonsense; you’re as young as you feel, age is just a number bla bla bla.  Rightly or wrongly I have spent way too long thinking about the passing of time and nostalgia is all very well but what about the present and the future?

My light bulb moment arrived in the form of an extraordinary email from my 74-year-old Dad. I have long thought my dad is a bit of a genius, and as a scientist he is all about the facts, but in my opinion there is a creative soul gagging to get out.  I think he (not so) secretly pooh poohs all this blog stuff so I asked him to write his memories of turning 40 to see whether he would catch the ‘what’s all this writing for’ bug.  See for yourself, I think he did.

I can’t really remember being 40 it’s so long ago. I do remember not wanting to be 40 as it seemed I was at the top of the hill and the only way was down. It was like a watershed; drifting around in the clouds of youth was now definitely over and from now on it would be a rush downstream to a sluggish old river.

Actually, it hasn’t been like that at all. Life in some ways got better and more interesting if, at times, more worrying; watching you three grow up, sometimes succeeding sometimes failing.

If you think being 40 is a shock wait till your kids are 40! Then the real shock is how old you are. You don’t like what you see in the mirror so you don’t look. Your hair has gone, your teeth are brown, you’re going deaf, you need new glasses, your knees/hips/back are painful but all your friends are also so smitten except, of course , those who didn’t make it this far.

But look at it this way. Yesterday we went a strenuous walk in the Peak District. The sky was cloudless, the views glorious, spectacular. So we were out of breath and the knees ached but it was so good to be alive.

Nothing more need be said.

Not far from where I live is a dilapidated cement works, which always catches my eye whenever I drive past it. When the sun came out on Sunday afternoon, I finally took an hour out of my day to drive over and take some photos. I love the broken windows and rusting girders, and this shot caught my eye… Say ‘Cheese’…

Shout out to collaborator Richard – new collaboration to be decided, but definitely on its way soon!

In my very humble and possibly warped opinion, the way your life pans out is simply down to the cards you’ve be dealt, chance (you can call it luck) and choice. Whatever ‘The Secret’ says about thinking good things and good things will happen I just can’t swallow, although there’s a lot to be said for looking on the bright side. If the key lay merely in positive thought The Priory would be out of business and we’d all be happy billionaires.  Everyone in the hospital is not a negative thinker right?  Fate, luck, chance call it what you like but it decides and the only time we get some semblance of control is when we make choices; bar of choc or apple, rich old fella or impoverished young fiancé.

In an ideal world as we get older surely we should know what the right choice is, older and wiser, bah, it’s a myth, it doesn’t get any easier. You just get more choices about more important stuff and less time to make the right decisions.  Then the next tricky bit is following the decision through. I made a choice to go on a mini journey of self-improvement before I turn 40 and although I have made some very tiny baby steps (I have done some exercise – I know – can you believe it?), I am still thinking rather than doing. So how about trying the challenge with me; in the next 40 days make a choice to change something, just one thing that will improve your life, it can be big or small but I find if I have a time limit I’m more likely to see it through.  Go on, give it a go and keep me posted.

image from childrensdirectory.net

I’d like a new tooth for my birthday please.  I’d like a watch and some jewellery to replace the stuff the burglars took 18 months ago, I’d like a kindle, a party, a child free night, I’d like the ring I coveted from my boss 10 years ago.

I want never gets but I would like sometimes does, so I must have a chance….

Yeah yeah world peace, health and happiness for everyone I know yadi yadi yada, but damn it I’d like a new tooth.  Dentistry is expensive stuff and the tooth fairy did not come for the back milk tooth I lost aged 36.  I am still waiting and unless the cost of living has risen dramatically in fairyland since my childhood then I don’t think when she finally gets to my pillow she’ll be leaving a grand.  Still, I want a new tooth.  Just saying.