Spending Spree

For the past decade or so I’ve taken part in the English Longitudinal Study on Ageing.  Thousands of over fifties take part and it helps researchers ascertain what is ‘normal’ in people as we get older.  Every couple of years a nice ELSA lady visits to conduct an extensive interview, weighs me and times how long it takes me to walk 8ft. 

As a thank you for taking part I receive a £20 Love To Shop gift-card, which I use to stock up on little things just-for-me.

Last Wednesday I took myself to Wilko on Shields Road, Byker, to use the card.

In doing this I was following in the footsteps of my Northumbrian grandma and great-aunt, and no doubt other female ancestors, who would take the tram from Benton to Byker to visit Parrishes and Beavans department stores, now only memories and ghost signs on the outer walls of other shops.

As I was heading to Shields Road I took along four empty printer ink cartridges to be refilled at Superinks, saving money and plastic waste.  This was a regular trip before the recent unpleasantness and I have quite a few empties still on the shelf.  It was going to take half an hour to do the refills, plenty of time to have a good look around Wilko.

Another of my attempts to be greener is to use a solid shampoo bar rather than liquid shampoo, saving on plastic waste and transport.  When I was little Mum washed my hair with Lux soap so the idea of a using a bar is quite familiar, and comforting.  I was delighted to find Wilko had Garnier “Coconunt & Organic Aloe Vera” Ultimate Blends Shampoo Bars on offer for £4 each.  So I got five.

But of course I had to have a rake around and also bought a box of bicarbonate of soda, compressed face powder, and large tubs of Nivea Soft and Cantu Cocoa Butter moisturisers: around £15 in total.

Shields Road also has a number of charity shops, always worth a visit.

I’ve made a small personal vow that any birthday and other greetings cards I buy will be from charity shops as they now have an excellent selection at very reasonable prices.  My first stops were Marie Curie and then St Oswald's Hospice shop next door:  8 birthday cards for £7.66.

The Salvation Army didn’t have any suitable cards but there was a sunhat with my great-niece’s somewhat unusual name on, so that was £4.

By this time it was a good hour after I’d started so it was back to Superinks for the four refilled cartridges: £20.

Driving home it occurred to me that in order to use my £20 gift card I’d actually spent £46.66.

Smile!

From Facebook archives...

30 July 2010 at 11:02 ·

Taking a photo of the birthday boy yesterday in his new t-shirt I said 

"Smile for your auntie … go on … smile!"  

So he smole ...

A Picture of Sartorial Elegance

On the last Wednesday of the month the Ringtons man calls with his basket of tea leaves and bags, ground coffee and beans, biscuits and confectionery.

We never remember it’s Ringtons day so there is always a dash to the door and for Fester to find cash for him.

This month he called halfway through Pointless.

There was a knock at the door.

Ferretfingers stood up and looked out of the window “It’s the Rington’s man.”

Fester “Are you sure?”

Thunderthighs said “Well that’s his van.”

Fester dashed upstairs to the cash stash shouting “Open the door!”

Thunderthighs havered in the hall until I called “Open the door and just tell the Rington’s man your Dad’s gone upstairs for the money.”

“How do I look?” he asked.

“You look beautiful” I replied (he was perfectly tidy in black jeans and a dark green t-shirt).

I heard the door open and his voice saying “My Dad’s gone upstairs for the money” 

then Fester coming down and joining in the conversation.

When Pointless was nearly over and Thunderthighs had returned to the penthouse suite 

I told Fester (who, even on a good day, looks like someone who’s had a bruising encounter with a hedge or two) about the “How do I look?” question.

He looked astonished “What?  He asked that!!  With me in the house?!!”

School Holidays

 

When the boys were of school age a taxi would come and transport them to school.   

A couple of times a week I would chauffeur their father to and from the University’s research farm, more frequently in summer when the insects were moving and there was sampling to be done.   

There was free me-time during the day.

In the summer holidays however things, for me, were far more frantic

From Facebook archives

28 July 2010 at 13:27 ·

Beacon Hill for playscheme, 

Nafferton, 

Tesco, 

home, 

mountain of washing up, 

emails (not working btw), 

Nafferton, 

Beacon Hill 

- blue arsed fly day 

- summer holidays!!!

The Fly

Fester’s interest in insects started with moths and butterflies when he was nine.  He has a Bachelor of Science degree in Agricultural Zoology (insects, pests and parasites), a Master of Science Degree in Nutrition (the hindgut of rats), a PhD (Doctor of Philosophy) in Biogeography (Factors Affecting the Distribution of Ground and Water Beetles) and is a Fellow of the Royal Entomological Society.  He has earned his living doing the invertebrate aspect of Environmental Impact Surveys (Entomological Monitoring Services), and as a university researcher in insect distribution and the things that affect it.   

He caught a beetle new to science on holiday in Sicily, which is named after him, and can be relied upon to identify almost any British insect.

Thunderthighs is virtually phobic about flying insects and any that wander into his room cause screams, cries of “It’s a wasp” and swearing as he flaps, ineffectually at it to leave.

I’ve learnt to ignore him as I’d just get annoyed if I tried to help.

His father on the other hand, if he is in, will go up to remove the “wasp”.

This happened yesterday afternoon: cries of wasp from son, father thunders upstairs to discover no insect except a fly on the landing window.

After tea I heard this conversation on the stairs:

Thunderthighs “I’m certain that insect in my room was a wasp.”

Fester “No it wasn’t.  And the one on the window was a fly.”

Thunderthighs “Are you sure?”

(Loud laughter from his eavesdropping mother.)

Fester, not unreasonably, “Listen.  I’ve written over a hundred bloody papers on insects.  It was a bloody fly.”