THERE is a mood swing taking place amongst the British public which over the last couple of weeks has been given a massive nudge by the Olympic Games.
Could it be that we are beginning to see through the King’s clothes?
Could it be that we are beginning to realise that hype should not take precedence over substance, that fame comes through hard work and dedication and not by just turning up at the right party.
I was born only a few miles from the geographical centre of England. My cousin, the daughter of my mother’s twin, was born a few weeks earlier only 18 miles further south. Throughout our childhood we saw each other several times a month. You would think then that our accents would be similar, but even in this relatively small island there are numerous differences – few men from Cornwall would understand first time round someone from Tyneside in the North East and vice versa. My cousin and I are quite similar in lots of ways, we even look alike and in early photographs it is difficult to tell her children from mine. However, we pronounce many words rather differently. She has always lived below the line that differentiates those who use a long vowel and those who cut it short. – She says ‘BARTH’ and I say ‘BATH’. She says ‘PARTH’ and I say ‘PATH’. My children, who spent their early years in the south and grew up near Manchester, have combined the two - They have a ‘BARTH’ in the ‘BATH’ or even a ‘BATH’ in the ‘BARTH’, while hers are definitely southerners.
With the summer film season in full swing, some of you may be wondering how much money you need to make your own blockbuster film. After all, with the latest Batman adventure, The Dark Knight, earning almost $200 million in the first few days of its worldwide release, who wouldn’t be tempted to make a film and retire on the proceeds?
It used to be such a simple affair going to the pictures or the flicks as we used to call it.
Hand over a few coins, grab some popcorn from the small kiosk and sit through a support feature before the main event.
Back in those days – I’m talking about the late 50s, early 60s here – there was a huge selection of cinemas to go to. Grand names such as Regal, Alexandra, Classic and Gaumont.
The one within walking distance from me was called the Cavendish and it is there that my love of film began.
Saturday morning matinées for kids, what an adventure that was...
I don’t know about you, but I get a little confused at times as to who exactly I am and even what to call myself. It depends upon the circumstances and who I am with to some extent: In a shop I may be ‘Madam’ or ‘Love’. In other parts of the country it might be ‘Duck’, ‘Pet’, ‘Luvva’ or ‘Hen’ At home I can be Margaret, Maggie, or Mom. Elsewhere I might be Mrs Watson or John’s wife, Jo’s Mom, Brenda’s sister or even occasionally myself. I have been identified as Alf’s daughter, Lizzie’s niece, Eric’s cousin – I could go on. I am a wife and mother, a daughter, sister, cousin, neighbour. I am a cook, a midwife, a gardener, a writer, a preacher, the lady at number 60 and a woman. Sometimes I take on several of these roles in one day and even more than one at once.
If your family has pets then you'll know how attached you can get to your four-legged friend, they are practically an extra member to the family and so you'll want them to go everywhere with you when it comes to going on holiday. If your holiday plans this year don't involve flying out of the country (and with the rising cost of flights and living in general not many will be able to afford it anyway!) then there's no reason why you can't take your dog along too.