What do you call a man who comes into your life in a "special way" when you are in your early fifties?
My gentleman friend? - Well, of course he is but this is rather formal, the sort of thing my mother might have said so it's a definite no-no. Conjures images of tea-dances, gramaphone records and Sunday afternoon walks with little white gloves and a demure hat.
My chap? Only in certain circles but it's OK, chummy, fairly informal but not truly descriptive if a bit thigh-slapping.
My partner? A bit too businesslike for me and not technically accurate. True partnership in all respects however is a worthy aspiration something sadly lacking in my former life.
My boyfriend? He's not a boy, he's definitely a grown up and all man.
My significant other? What exactly does this mean? Sounds rather schizophrenic to me.
Or, as he qualifies, - well only by 16 months - my toy-boy? Ok, sometimes I joke about it but it usually ends up backfiring on me.
Shorty? I'm ever so slightly taller than he is in stockinged feet but it doesn't seem to bother me or Bernie and Slavica Ecclestone so it doesn't bother him either, although his lack of Bernie's fortune does cause some concern.
Actually none of the above really paint the right picture so the most apt description I think for this lovely man who would do anything for me, freely expresses his feelings, accepts, loves and is often amused by my idiosyncracies and tells me that every day with me is an adventure, (yes, flattery got him where he is today) is worthy of his title - my Lover.
I'm not sure my mother would approve of this but it's honest and she does approve of him.
I haven't actually asked him how he refers to me....... Lucky?
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
Thursday, 15 May 2008
New Toy
I mentioned a new toy in my headline - I'll explain.
It was a bit of a surprise, came without wrapping and, most importantly of all, there were no instructions.
I have a Japanese friend who lives in Yokohama. She writes to me once a year, sending a very beautiful Christmas card and telling me about her life in the last year. She has had three boys, now young men and last year she told me she had retired. I was intrigued. She had a very traditional marriage, a husband who worked in the city, a lovely home, and the luxury of making her family her career. I read on.
Her youngest boy had left school and had embarked on university life in Southampton. She had decided that her 'working' life as a mother had come to an end and the story was beginning. Her command of the English language is pretty good and there was no doubt what she meant.
O was at uni, J had just left to begin her undergraduate life and after shedding tears and missing them both dreadfully, I found myself with time to spare. No timescale for producing meals, almost no housework, only enough washing to run the machine once a week and a shortage of china and cutlery as it took almost ten days to fill the dishwasher. I could cook what I fancied or not if I didn't. My life outside of work and social diary took on a rather nebulous form.
It took time to adjust my food shopping habits and for weeks I contributed to food waste statistics Eventually I figured it out, started to do things in MY time, went for coffee on a Saturday morning with my Telegraph and pen, didn't have to check in or request check-ins from anyone.
So the toy comes without rules and instructions. There can be as many players as you like, the pieces move in all directions, you can take it with you wherever you go, play it wherever you want for as long as you want and do you know what? I think it will be a best seller.
It was a bit of a surprise, came without wrapping and, most importantly of all, there were no instructions.
I have a Japanese friend who lives in Yokohama. She writes to me once a year, sending a very beautiful Christmas card and telling me about her life in the last year. She has had three boys, now young men and last year she told me she had retired. I was intrigued. She had a very traditional marriage, a husband who worked in the city, a lovely home, and the luxury of making her family her career. I read on.
Her youngest boy had left school and had embarked on university life in Southampton. She had decided that her 'working' life as a mother had come to an end and the story was beginning. Her command of the English language is pretty good and there was no doubt what she meant.
O was at uni, J had just left to begin her undergraduate life and after shedding tears and missing them both dreadfully, I found myself with time to spare. No timescale for producing meals, almost no housework, only enough washing to run the machine once a week and a shortage of china and cutlery as it took almost ten days to fill the dishwasher. I could cook what I fancied or not if I didn't. My life outside of work and social diary took on a rather nebulous form.
It took time to adjust my food shopping habits and for weeks I contributed to food waste statistics Eventually I figured it out, started to do things in MY time, went for coffee on a Saturday morning with my Telegraph and pen, didn't have to check in or request check-ins from anyone.
So the toy comes without rules and instructions. There can be as many players as you like, the pieces move in all directions, you can take it with you wherever you go, play it wherever you want for as long as you want and do you know what? I think it will be a best seller.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
The sad demise of the letter H
Language as we all know evolves over time. No more hath, thou, wilt and all those rather old-fashioned, outdated words that our fast-paced, streamlined 21st century lives have rendered obsolete. What However Has Horribly Happened to the letter H?
'Aitch' according to my trusted Concise Collins is the name given to the sound produced to represent this eighth letter of the English alphabet but there seem to be increasing numbers of our native speakers who choose to make life so much more difficult for themselves by insisting on referring to this symbol as 'Haitch. It puzzles me why this is so. It is much harder to pronounce, requiring in mid-sentence a halt in the natural flow of speech in order to make an intake of breath to produce this sound. - A says 'Who do you bank with?' B replies 'I bank with Haitch ess bee cee'. Try it for yourself, you'll see what I mean. It really isn't that easy and it doesn't sit well with me. It really grates.
Only yesterday I arranged a delivery and was asked for my postcode which includes this beleaguered and threatened consonant. The customer service agent at the other end of the phone repeats what I have said and I wait to hear what seems inevitable. ' bee, haitch' - I want to scream 'you silly woman, the letter is aitch. Get it right please! The H in haitch is silent.
'Aitch' according to my trusted Concise Collins is the name given to the sound produced to represent this eighth letter of the English alphabet but there seem to be increasing numbers of our native speakers who choose to make life so much more difficult for themselves by insisting on referring to this symbol as 'Haitch. It puzzles me why this is so. It is much harder to pronounce, requiring in mid-sentence a halt in the natural flow of speech in order to make an intake of breath to produce this sound. - A says 'Who do you bank with?' B replies 'I bank with Haitch ess bee cee'. Try it for yourself, you'll see what I mean. It really isn't that easy and it doesn't sit well with me. It really grates.
Only yesterday I arranged a delivery and was asked for my postcode which includes this beleaguered and threatened consonant. The customer service agent at the other end of the phone repeats what I have said and I wait to hear what seems inevitable. ' bee, haitch' - I want to scream 'you silly woman, the letter is aitch. Get it right please! The H in haitch is silent.
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