To your knees, people, Boudica is IN THE BUILDING!

I've been compared with many female characters in my lifetime.  The first, obviously, because of the freckles, was Anne (of Green Gables).  Did she have a surname?  *Google says 'Shirley'* (co-incidentally my mother's name). 

Have YOU seen my tonsils?

When I had my tonsils out at the rather decrepit age of 24 (and put in the children's ward, which is the USUAL place for humans having their tonsils out - they being at most 8 years old) I managed to find a grown up TV-area one evening and a old dear in there looked up at me (tonsil-less and probably swollen of throat) and said "you've the look of that Stephanie Beacham off the telly".  And, delightedly, as an avid follower of 'The Colbys', I took it as a compliment.  Until just now when I realised she could've meant when she starred in 'Tenko' - 

 

My GBF once told me I had the legs of Christie Brinkley but then he also told me I had the sex appeal of a road accident.  Both these 'compliments' were, of course, aided and abetted by copious quantities of Special Brew and I appreciate that neither are entirely accurate.

And finally, today, after nearly 7 years of working at our local Middle School, I found out why it is that most of the kids there (I mean  young students, of course I do) either avert their eyes and pin themselves up against the corridor walls when I pass, or else hold my gaze so disconcertingly that I often have to whip out my mirror when I get back to my room to check for food-in-hair/teeth/eyebrows.  

My lovely colleague told me that when she used to teach a class about  Boudicea, when describing the Queen of Icani (that's, rather unexcitingly, *Norfolk* to you and me) she used me as a reference.  And although my initial reaction was "Eurgh - not that Dyke in the Chariot!", since Googling all manner of images of her, I found this rather lovely description and I'm sticking with that, thank you very much:

 Wikepedia says:

"... that she was "possessed of greater intelligence than often belongs to women", that she was tall, had long red hair down to her hips, a harsh voice and a piercing glare, and habitually wore a large golden necklace (perhaps a torc), a many-coloured tunic, and a thick cloak fastened by a brooch...."

That's me to a Tee - minus the cloak and the bling, obvs.

Oh, and the harsh voice.  

And the piercing glare (I hope)

So, just the greater intelligence and the red hair then. Which isn't quite waist-length.

And the tallness.

Def. not the many coloured tunic.  I've only got one of those and I'm still not convinced myself... not enough to lead an army of men from Norfolk on a merry rampage, anyway.

In fact I'm not even sure I'd feel overly confident in a many-coloured tunic going round Sainsbury's these days.

How to prepare for the Annual Holidays

The Old Days

1. Make up enough sandwiches (ham/tomato, cheese/tomato) to feed a small continent.
2. Fill at least three thermos flasks with ready-made up coffee (so that in 4 hours it will taste of nothing but warm plasticky-metal), tea and very weak cheap squash of indeterminate flavour.
3. Strap Gerbils (in their cages I mean) to table leg in caravan to ensure stability – also empty their water bottles, remember how they didn’t enjoy last year’s 6 hour shower up the A303?
4. Leave notes on every available surface for grandparent who only has to water plants by all accounts. Maybe they’re in code to make her trips more interesting?
5. Turn off the water.
6. Turn off the electric.
7. Close all curtain half-mast to confuse potential burglars into spending so long outside rubbing their chins thinking ‘are they/aren’t they’? that they get so irritated they hand themselves in before committing anything more serious than peeing in the privet due to protracted wonderings.
8. Notify the local constabulary that they’ll need to walk more slowly past No.4 for the next fortnight during their rounds. Yeah, right.
9. Strip the beds.
10. Why?
11. Defrost the fridge.
12. Again…why?
13. Alert every neighbour to be extra vigilant; thereby ensuring that any hardened criminal worth his/her salt knows precisely where Mrs Cooper stores her valuables (does a fox-fur shrug count?)
14. Leave more notes
15. Pull up ten square kitchen carpet tiles where the fridge defrosted and hang them on the washing line.
16. Leave a note for the milkman. In an empty bottle on the doorstep. Thereby announcing yet again that the property is vacant.
17. Fill at least five boxes with variety packs of cereals, dried milk, Sunny D (dried orange juice) baked beans, plum tomatoes, dried rice, vinegar, salt and enough muesli to coat a stretch of the A34 in the event of a sudden snowstorm.
18. Take Sea Legs
19. Pack blankets, sleeping bags and pillows ‘just in case’ (see No.17?) even though we’re staying with Grandma and she has beds and cupboards full of food.
20. Make a note to buy yoghurts closer to destination - just in case. Yoghurts probably haven’t made it to the corner shop in Dorset yet – they ARE a new-fangled food, after all.
21. Much like sprouts at Christmas, prepare everything 2 days beforehand and go to bed 12 hours earlier. After all, it will take over 6 hours, maybe 7 if the wheel comes off the caravan again after dad drives over one of those invisible roundabouts like he did last year and we had to stop, unhitch, drive to the nearest garage and then wait for a part to come in from Devizes to Middle Wallop.
22. An hour into the journey, remember you forgot to bring the dog, which is still tethered to it’s outside kennel looking slightly bewildered. Return, Repeat.

Year, after year, after year……until you’re old enough to realise this was some kind of sick joke on behalf of the Seventies!

8th July .... 1980

You all know my predilection for Time Travelly stuff, right?  Well, I thought I'd dip into what I was doing exactly 30 years ago and here's my diary entry for  8th July 1980.
Briefly,  this was the year I left school (in a mighty huff as I wasn't allowed to go to Art school as I'd hoped)  and so I started working in the most Arty place I could think of - as an Apprentice Hairdresser in a posh Hair/Beauty salon in town.  Clearly, I'm not enjoying it much...

"Hate it! Absolutely detest the place an' I'm not - repeat NOT joking.

Met Jackie at dinner - Ginny came in 'cos Fliss was havin' her hair done.  Alison (big one) told me I was fat and I should try wearing something else! Humph!

Got on the wrong bus comin' home!

Biddenham, Bromham & Oakley - 1 hour late home.  Went down Del's.  Saw George 4 a fleeting second.  Lay in tomorrow!"

Also, clearly, exclamations marks were the way to get my point across!  And I'm wracking my brain trying to remember if there was a 'small Alison' to offset the Big one.  Much lol-age!