SCOOP! HENRY HOOVER – PEEPING TOM

I was in a shop changing room the other day, and was already feeling vulnerable. 

I freely admit to being the kind of person who peers up at the ceiling tiles suspiciously;  convinced that beings lurk behind them, snooping down at me in my semi-clad state. 

I don't tend to linger in these places.  Indeed I try to be as quick as possible, not least because the less time spent in front of a mirror in my undies the better. 

In a Jam



Traffic Jam
(I know, too awful)

So there we are . . . stuck in traffic.  Me and Children Nos. 2 and 3.
We are on the last leg of a journey we make every  day, and which usually takes 8 minutes (give or take) door to door.

But on this particular day (which of course was the day it was IMPERATIVE I was home in time) we were stuck in traffic . . . for 50 minutes.

The first 5 minutes were given over to
a) wondering exactly how long we might be stuck here (visibility was restricted and no obvious obstruction could be discerned)   and
b) growing frustration about dinner arrangements for the family. 

Time truly was of the essence as Child No.1 at home was due at a Dress Rehearsal from which he would not return until gone 10pm. 
Child No.2 (in the car with me) was due at a rehearsal for a concert he was doing with the rest of his class. 
Husband was laid up in bed with so- far- undiagnosed- but- none- the- less- very- painful back problem. 
Dog was probably just sleeping somewhere, so that wasn't an issue.

But it was all whizzing and whirring around in my mind - wondering how on earth I was going to get everyone sorted out and delivered in time and how could I possibly . . . .

Eggscuse Me ?

Is it just me . . . ?

Apologies for lowering the tone and introducing a level of coarseness hitherto unplumbed on these pages - but this caught my eye today as I was doing a spot of internet shopping.

I admit things have been a tad stressful at home lately, and I am very, very tired - but . . .

Does that look rude to you?

Star Struck

I used to think  I was quite cool (not that there has ever been any evidence to support this) but I have recently found myself to be what can only be described as Starstruck.

So far I have managed to spend my life pretty much entirely avoiding contact with Stars, both major and minor.

However, I always thought that, should I come face to face with a celebrated personage, I might retain an air of dignity - perhaps even issue forth with a charming/witty observation. 

That was until a recent encounter with a Famous Person in my local corner shop caused me to revise my opinion. 

In very close proximity to aforementioned FP my throat closed, I went bright red and sweated - a lot.

Now this person was someone whose programmes I enjoy, but I wouldn't say I was in awe of them.  Why they should elicit such an extreme(ly unattractive) response is quite beyond me.

Naturally enough this whole episode brought to the surface a striking dilemma.

Waiting Room Only



Maintaining Radio Silence

Sitting in a hospital waiting room this morning - having already thumbed through the magazines and imbibed the complimentary 'Chocomilk' drink  (delicious, thank you for asking) - my eye was caught by the following notice:

"This radio is on for a reason. 

Please do not switch it off or turn it down"

I was intrigued, and not a little unsettled . . . and I shall tell you why.