A Weighty Problem

The other day I saw three fat women on television maintaining they were quite happy about their weight, but suffered insulting comments on social media.
It reminded me of when I was young. people were always commenting on how skinny I was. I was 5’8′ and 9 stone 4lbs. I had thin legs and not very much shape above the waist. Many of these comments were made by people who were overweight and some of them were quite hurtful. I never had the courage to retaliate.
When I look at some of the young women nowadays, I think I was born too early.
I am now in my eighties and have lost a couple of inches in height and now weigh just under 11 stone. According to my body mass index I am bordering on obese, yet most people would not describe me as fat


A Weighty Problem

004The other day a TV programme featured three very fat women who said they were happy with their size, but concerned about comments made about them on social media.

Why do people feel it is all right to made rude remarks about someone’s personal appearance?

When I was young ( many years ago) I was considered skinny and people never tired of telling me I was far too thin. I was just under 5’8″ tall and weighed 9st 4lbs. How would I be judged if I were a teenager today with those proportions?

I am now old and have shrunk a couple of inches and now weigh just under 11st. I don’t look fat, but according to my body mass index I am on the border of obese

Oh, Not Again!

I have written about this before, but again yesterday I had a message left on my ansaphone which was unintelligible. I listened about six times to the gabble, but eventually gave up, thinking if it was important the person would ring again. Surely if one is leaving a message and a number to return the call, it  should be spoken slowly and clearly.

Repeatedly we are told that messages are be recorded. I sometimes feel like recording a message , sending it to the firm concerned just to let them hear how poorly their business is being represented.


This is the latest mystery in the Chief Inspector Quinn series.

When he receives a hysterical phone call from his ex-wife, Julia, Quinn has

no conception of where it will lead and affect his present partner, Delia

and their toddler twins.

Quinn’s most frustrating case.

Beloved Daughters

Beloved daughtersHow would you feel if your only child was diagnosed with leukaemia? Pretty devastated as George and Verity felt when they were told about Lucille, but much worse was to come.

Why not read BELOVED DAUGHTERS on Amazon Kindle to find out what happens to this family?

Why are we waiting?

Sitting, waiting, hoping

He will come soon

He said early morning

and now it’s noon

Every car door slammed

Every ring of a bell

He’s coming

All will be well

Frustration starts to rise

I begin to realise

He’s not coming

As I wait and wait

Not for an errant love

But the blooming plumber!

No doubt many people like me, often women, wait in for a workman who has promised to be at your house at a certain time or on a particular day.

The individual never appears, no phone call, nothing! The frustration mounts and so, I suspect, does one’s blood pressure.

We are told people are short of work – not these people who can afford to break appointments and promises without a thought for the person waiting hopefully.

Desert Trip

Recently while visiting my daughter in Cairo we went on a trip to two monasteries in the desert. The first was St Antony’s Monastery where the elderly monk was, to say the least, garrulous, and while he was supposed to be telling us about the history of the place, he seemed instead to be trying to convert us despite the obvious mix of religions in the party. We spent so long there that we were late for everything else and ended up having lunch at 4.30 in the afternoon.

Below on the left is a picture of one of the streets in the monastery. It was baking hot and several people, including me, left the party to sit down in the shade, much to the annoyance of the monk showing us round.

There were several small children in the party and they became very fractious besides being thirsty and hungry and who could blame them!

The second monastery was St Paul’s and there, a young novice was our guide. He was excellent and when told we could spend only half an hour there, he rigidly stuck to it.


On the right is a picture of the second guide who spoke excellent English. He had been in the monastery for two and a half years; it takes three years to become a fully fledged member of the monastery.

After we left St Paul’s we had a long journey back to the restaurant where we were having lunch. We were eating al fresco.

The lunch was good and substantial  and there  were large umbrellas to shade us and a terrific view of the gulf of Suez  but by the time we got there I had rather gone off the whole idea.

Another long journey took us to our hotel which was quite luxurious, but it was a long, long walk to our rooms.

Below is part of the sitting room of the hotel. Next to it is the swimming pool at the hotel and next to that the view from

our bedroom.
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I think this must be the most exhausting “short” trip I have ever been on.