London Work Miracles and Mates

                                      Euston Station and the start or another mini adventure.

I set off from Wigan station and arrived at Euston relaxed and ready to work as hard as I could at my new Demonstration Contract at a brand new warehouse behind Wembley Stadium.

Being a 'Demo Girl' has been an amazing experience from learning how to cook in the tiniest of spaces to meeting Joe Public with its many facets and faces. But this mini adventure had me in the very heart of the capital and heading towards Cricklewood.

Several hair raising tube journeys later I arrived at The Crown

in Cricklewood. its a very imposing building, looking a tad incongruous with its pretty architecture and its oh so modern additions.
its set back from the main road with a good sweep of driveway and a lot of attention to detail with its cast iron posts and chains, the cobblestoned drive adding a little to its imposing frontage.

Set to one side is the additional building to the original. I can hardly call it an extension ts absolutely enormous and as imposing in its own modern way. Keeping faith with the current fashion that any extension must bee seen to  be from a different era, with all the bells and whistles it has truly beautiful aspects to its structure.

I entered the reception area and was immediately seen too, my electronic room key handed over in a neat little paper wallet and off i set to discover what had been booked for me.
I admit that having had several horror stories whispered in my shell like (ears) I was a tad apprehensive.
I passed the indoor swimming pool promising myself a swim later,

A promise I broke after half a pint of lager and an amazing evening with Jean Lowe, my colleague and several very kind gentlemen who bought our drinks and entertained us generously without a single word or gesture out of place.

The room was lovely. I can't say it was anything other than that. Ensuite bathroom, generous bed, good carpeting and the TV was a decent size.

A telephone, iron, hair dryer and sundry other little helpful additions ensured I was more than pleased.

Most importantly the coffee tray was full and I sat down and enjoyed a drink before changing and heading to the bar to meet up with my new colleagues . What an AMAZING bunch of people !

Jean Lowe is my colleague from the north and she has worked the demo route for a long time and took pleasure in introducing me to so many new people, it was hard to put names to faces at first but I soon ironed that out and we had a really good series of connections.

I've said more than once that I love my little job, I go to a place where literally everyone smiles, hello, good morning, can I help you, do you need anything..is always in the air and whats even nicer is that it is all genuine. I didn't know what to expect from this new crowd, Men and Women from all over the country, diverse characters, Individuals with 'demo' stamped right the way through them. We share a common gene of genial companionship, communication, people 'people', but that isn't a guarantee of acceptance..............I needn't have worried.

AMAZING is about the most overworked word when describing an experience but for me, quite genuinely...it was amazing. These people, total strangers bar for one person, welcomed me into their hearts and not once did I feel anything less than welcome, part of the team. Yvonne McKeown and Lianne Beverley Snape were particularly lovely to me but then more and more people added to the chain of friendship. fa too many to mention now...but I will, as time goes on.

We sat through the first evening saying hello, old friends leaping into each others arms for hugs, squeals of delight as  people re-connected and then bedtime. Oh that bed.mmmmmmmmmm it was heaven. Crisp clean sheets, lovely soft pillows, space, lots of space. Morning had more people arriving, more squeals and giggles and hugs as connections took place once again and then it was meetings and a god awful buffet and then........................V.I.P. Night and the opening.

Manic is about the only way to say it, people, food, demonstrations in multiple figures, people rushing here and there and then exhaustion as we staggered to the coach and back to the hotel.
The chatter started low on the coach, a gentle hum as people began to wynde down and then there was a buzz and a hyper giddy moment as people began to relate incidents and issues and suddenly the roar of dozens of people all hyped and still raring to go......wow!

Tuesday was no less frenetic and it was a 14 hour shift as well. We all staggered onto the double decker bus at 7am

and we would stagger back onto it at 9.30pm later that day. apprehension had all of us quiet , organising, running schedules through our minds,
We had an hour long wait before we could get into the warehouse itself but we all had to be present and correct and then it was our showtime.
By Wednesday things calmed a little but then the sun beat down oppressively and 30 degrees of pure heat hit us whenever we had our break or lunch......thank heavens for air conditioning.
By the evening we had successfully launched Wembley and we had a few hours before we would need to pack for home and we spent it......partying of course.

By the next morning there were a few sore heads, one or two gamely had stayed awake all night and several of us had drunk more than our usual limit but the frenetic work schedule was now over and more normal hours would resume. Some of our people stayed on till next Monday, but many of us had flights to catch back up to Scotland or trains to take us miles away home. I was on the train for 1;30 so by ten o clock I was packed, ready and sat out in the sun baking myself and drinking reams of coffee to stay awake and alert.

My bag was bulging with odd little things I had collected over the previous few days. Never the less that little bag held four pairs of trousers/shirts, security jacket, two hats, two aprons, three blouses, dress pants, dressy up dress, shoes,underwear, swimsuit (never did go to the pool) jumper,cardigan, sundry items of personal care, makeup,a large biscuit tin, my kindle, phone, charger, first aid kit, medication,and 'stuff' including my gorgeous hessian new bag courtesy of the hotel, a couple of chocolate bars and some mints and my purse with all the relevant proofs of identity and of course the bak card ................


Jean and I headed off through Cricklewood, stopping by a rather dilapidated small caravan blaring out a decent Bob Marley tune for a quick dance and a shuffle then on to the train station.
Several tube journeys later and we found ourselves back at Euston with an hour to spare (so we thought)

What better than a fast lunch and a little drinkies ...........which we duly did. We discovered Gino D'Acampo so of course we had to have some pasta (deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelicious) and gorgeous bread and a couple of lagers to help it all down.

finally we made it home.

Next year its Reykjavik, if I am chosen to join up again.......well thats another adventure entirely.
Miracles, I forgot to include the miracles.

Successful demonstrations are when you have not only displayed the item/ food/ self in such a way that the product sells fast and furious throughout the day. An empty pallet is considered a huge boright links to make your display good is genuinely exciting. For me, my pallet emptied fast and was refilled enough for me to feel I had done a good job. That was a small miracle.
That I managed to find my way through tube stations was another miracle because the reason I have had so many adventures in travel is literally because I can't read maps or guides as well as some and get myself 'lost' a lot.
That everyone got on so well, and everyone was so kind was a small but gratifying little miracle too. For nearly 100 people, some complete strangers to the group like myself, to integrate immediately and remain fast friends afterwards was another little miracle.
and lastly...to have survived London traffic in the rush hour, on a double decker bus through some of the smallest, narrowest streets. With my heart in my mouth as various narrow escapes provided me with gasps, hold my breath and eyes squeezed shut seconds along the way...is definitely...a miracle.

Affording an Adventure

My plans to continue with adventures is...well continuing!

Finances are the issue currently. I have taken on a job that will give me the time to do all the planning, sorting out maps and creating the itinerary. In the meantime I am adventuring around the local area and discovering places I have never seen. Its been fascinating so far.

I started with my local area to give myself a little more confidence in driving through unknown territory, especially without a sat nav and loaded with required paraphernalia including the dogs.

.
Caesar is biggish in size and bouncy, always wanting attention so he has to learn how not to get on my nerves haha. He needs a long walk usually but recently his shoulders have begun to hurt and that has made a difference in how long he walks for.
His bouncing around days are over.

Jake is different again, only small in size but he is my watch dog and will bark if anything or anyone is too close to my car. he is 8 years old and a fiesty little chap. He needs more time out and about than Caesar, mostly due to his actual breed but never the less he is a vital part of my early warning system for safety.








We have journeyed for just a few miles and then further and further with the occasional night in the car to test the comfort and the wisdom of my adventure and its possible hitches and glitches.

Liverpool was the big test, it is going to be a difficult process for all three of us because though it is close to my current home, it is a big big city and expanding all the time.

I am researching the best possible sources for various pieces of equipment and then come the next summer...we will journey further afield. Training in effect.

Adventures here we come.

I speak English and this is my Arse.

While I may not be the most educated of women, I am someone whose perception of life, the Universe and everything , has not been crafted by computers. games, apps and attachments.

Little plastic thingimagigs that ping me, poke me or generally interrupt a damned good conversation with a ring tone ; (to alert me that someone has posted a message of some description on a social website of no particular importance). These amazing relatively new inventions did not interrupt my every living moment.

 My sleep was never disturbed by someone logging into a website which kindly ‘alerted me’. Though what is kind about being woken at 3am by a screeching  bing /ding/ping escapes my understanding even now...I was thankfully, in my youth, the recipient of 8 hours solid sleep in a nice warm room devoid of flickering screens, The absence of hums, pings and dings , remains a fond memory. There was absolutely no evidence whatsoever of telephones, i pods, i pads , TV’s, Music Centres, MP3’s and the like, throughout my formative years and subsequent teenage moments. In essence I slept the sleep of the innocent and pure...beautifully.

I grew up with conversation as the main core of events in the day. Conversations with my parents, sibling, and even...bate your breath please...........with my teachers.

Those conversations are now almost a defunct part of societies personal  and interpersonal communicative actions, instead ‘we’ send images via Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. We text entire conversations in capital letters, single letters standing for whole words and what is fascinating is that from child to aging old Nana we are reading fluently what has become an entirely new language in itself which is almost universal to our world and its individual nations no matter what ethnic language is spoken.

OMG! R U OK.FGS.PM.ASAP.
16 LETTERS to ask Oh My God Are you okay, For Gods sake Private Message me as soon as possible.

What continues to amaze me is that I too am becoming proficient at such messages and then again, I find myself more and more disgruntled, more annoyed than ever because the spoken conversation is also adopting and adapting to this new phase of communication. We are beginning to speak in shorthand.

I am not simply upholding English as my Mother tongue, I am waving a flag here for all languages, because the rot has set in amongst us all, with Franglaise and Spanglaise and the list is endless. The purity of our personal languages is being eroded. I am all for an easier communication, it is good that so many people can now communicate , but a little part of me still wants to preserve the language of my youth.

This is my arse! I said, not my ass, not my ‘bits’ not my situpon...my arse. Such a wonderful word, savour it as it spreads its enunciation across your tongue...arse. As Prince Harry said, it is a proper word for your backside and I cheered when he used it.

I came fifth in the race...because there is an F there, right there in the middle but we hear fiTH, or my absolute personal dislike siCth we have an X missing, have our tongues and teeth become so lacking in ability we can no longer pronounce the X in a word..siXth surely. We don’t say secual we say sexual, don’t we ? so why did poor old Six get a letteroctomy?

It is my sincere hope that out there, in the world are like minded individuals who will preserve the spoken language. In all its richness and quirkiness, it needs protection from the encroaching and admittedly handy little shorthand for the texting and the social media junkies.

I will, where appropriate,defend English from erosion of  its' richness and the beauty of its language which has become the focus for lazy tongues and idle minds.

Or, as I suspect, am I turning into a Grumpy Old Woman.........................

A Gesture of Sorrow

                                                                My Brother David

Always supposing I have declining years. We all face annihilation in one form or another, well if my life gets cut shorter than I thought would happen...I will just have to make sure I have everything still compiled and recorded at the least in a rough format before I start my journey...one cannot prepare enough and that is exactly what I shall do...prepare.

Of course I should begin at the beginning really, what happened was that my baby brother David was killed in a traffic accident. He was just 34. I cannot describe the terrible sense of loss or the events of that night without hurting all over again, sufficient to say, my family were devastated and my little Mum and my sister and I, grew very close as we supported each other through the mechanics of burying our loved done.

It was a dark time and not very pleasant to dwell on. Following the drawn out wait of the local council grave diggers being on holiday for Easter, after a two week wait for the Coroner’s report following an autopsy we eventually managed to give my brothers body the final rest he deserved and the following weeks were spent with distraction techniques for us all.

On one of those distraction days we sat together in a pretty little garden centre and I went to buy coffee and cakes. On my return to the table Mother offered me the money for the drinks and cakes and I refused. What followed was a five minute delicate but never the less argument where Mother tried to get me to take the money and I insisted it was my gift to the day.

It ended with my sister intervening

 ‘ Mum, so Sue has to take time off work, so have I and neither of us have much money, but right now, today, Susan has ten pounds she wants to spend on us, and tomorrow, it isn’t promised, we found that out the hard way, so let her buy you a coffee and a cake Mother, it’s her gift and it’s her pleasure, lets enjoy it eh’.

We sat down with a sigh, the awkward moment passed and a lady sat at the next table said quietly, I have been where you are, I wish you all peace and smiled sadly. A tiny gesture and it undid the emotional side of us . We stretched across a little space and touched hands in a gesture of sorrows shared .

Others in the small cafe nodded and like an odd sort of Mexican wave people around the room stopped for a little moment and touched hands, or looked meaningfully towards us, towards each other. A small moment, an insignificant thing in terms of world issues, and yet, for us, a single moment of shared pains with our fellow man . An ease, a gentleness descended and then without any prevarication Mother said’ what do you want to be when you grow up girls’ and that single small moment changed my entire world once again.

It’s fair to say that when Mother asked her question both my sister and I laughed out loud. It was the sort of thing you expect when you’re ten, but then we realised she meant what she said. We discussed how our brother had never completed his early promise of career and the subsequent issues of his marriage to a female he had long since left but never divorced. 

We worked our way through the reality of our world and the conversation ended up back at Mothers question. Simple, direct and honest, she wanted to know what we really wanted in our lives, so we told her. We also acted on it.

The result was that both my sister and I changed our way of living and our destinations on life’s meandering path became different, more fulfilling and more honest with ourselves.

I became an artist, travelling 120 miles for an interview at a college, moving home and for 8 glorious years I lived the life I truly loved and welcomed. My art sold in small amounts and I had a little success in other areas, a little poem published here, a small blog gaining a following there, and all in all I enjoyed my world immensely. Eventually I published some of my books on Kindle Fingal and SeaHold and more to come as I finalise my many years of writings.

 I even managed to get embroiled in an affair of the heart which is still ongoing but as they’ say, ‘its complicated’, he is much younger than I and I don’t want to share my space these days, but its still alive and kicking in its own unique fashion.

One gesture of sorrow from a kind hearted woman, gave root and then flourishing vine to my new life.

never be afraid to share your sympathy, who knows what it will do.