Hi Everyone,
Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve written but life has been a bit of a whirlwind the last few months.
Let me introduce you to Josias Andrew who arrived on Monday 20th July at 9.50pm GMT and weighed in at 7lbs 9oz.
Mother and baby and both doing very well and have been at home since Tuesday.
So my life has turned another corner and I’ve graduated to Granny status. But I’m not going to be known as Granny… but Nana.
Nana Deb 
Oh dear… where to start?
Tony keeps gently reminding me that we have a blog and that some input from me would be nice.
I keep meaning to write on here, but what can I say? My head is full of pregnant daughter… make that HEAVILY pregnant daughter, her up and coming house move whilst heavily pregnant, Tony’s plans for coming home which just happens to be the same week as my first Grandchild will arrive, Rocketmoms on Squidoo which I just joined, and the major, number One distraction in my life… TAGFOOT!!
I’ve just completed my first Rocketmoms lens When Debbie Met Tony
I have no idea how I get all this stuff done and still manage to work full time.
I’m barely sleeping where I’m so excited about Tony coming back and the baby arriving… oh, we know the sex!!!
When Tony is back, he’ll then have to find a job here and then we’re moving house at the end of October and oh, I almost forgot… there’s a little thing called a wedding to plan too 
Isn’t life great?
Both Debbie and I have been busy this last couple of weeks creating new lenses on Squidoo.
While Debhie has been working on her collection of lenses about Hampshire, I have been working on my USA States lenses, and also a local one about my daily walks.
Firstly, Debbie created a lens about Southampton, the city where she lives. Southampton is one of the largest ports in England, in the middle of the South Coast, and has seen many famous ships sail down the river, including The Titanic, Queen Mary and Elizabeth, and also their successors the QE2 and QM2.
She just completed another about Netley, a suburb of Southampton which has a lot of history. Netley has ruins of an Abbey, as well as an old military hospital, the remains of which have been turned into a country park.
Meanwhile, I just completed a lens about the morning walks that I take where I live in Deer Creek in South Florida. The lens has over 80 photographs from the walk, including some nice homes, lakes, and much of the tropical foliage and wildlife of the area.
I have also been working on a set of lenses about the states in the USA. I am creating these in alphabetical order, and so far have completed Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas and California. Each lens has background information on each state, and a list of other lenses about that state. If you have a Squidoo lens about any of these states, please feel free to add it to the list of lenses to get some free promotion.
If I haven’t got to your state yet, why not subscribe to our blog so you can be kept up to date with progress. I hope you enjoy what you see here.
A Recipe For VictoryIngredients;
One large, good, solid idea
A good pinch of AIM/GOALS
One unique theme
A cool name
One cute logo
A massive amount of effective Support
METHOD:
Develop the idea over long periods of time.
Keep your aims clear and focused.
Blend in a unique theme and add a dollop of a cool name. Mix with this in equal parts a cute logo.
Test, test and test again. Invite friends to sample your product at regular intervals. Encourage them to tag, tag, and tag some more.
Throw in a helping of Adsense and a pint of Amazon. This will produce revenue.
Blend all ingredients together and add some badges and ample amounts of goodies.
Pour mixture into Foot shaped tins and cook for as long as it takes.
Meantime, cherish, nurture and encourage the taggers in their footsteps.
When the mixture is ready, and only you’ll know when, hit the
‘GO LIVE BUTTON’
Stand back, admire and be proud in your VICTORY because your creation will rise and become the best on the net.
This blog entry is a contest entry on Tagfoot
Debbie and I are pleased to announce that we got engaged yesterday (8th April 2009). We have known for a long time that we wanted to get engaged, and how we felt about each other, but we just wanted to wait until the time was right before making things official.
I dropped down on one knee in the bedroom behind Debbie while she was looking in the closet, so that when she turned around and saw me it was obvious what was happening. I asked her if she would marry me, the answer to which was a wonderfully happy “YES”.
A little known fact is that pretty much everything that has happened in our relationship happened on a Wednesday, so it only seemed right to get engaged on a Wednesday as well. After the tears of joy and lots of hugs etc, we decided to head out to the shops to look for an engagement ring.
Debbie knew more or less what she was looking for, a Trilogy ring in White Gold, so once in town we looked around all the jewellery stores until we found one that we both liked. We narrowed it down to two rings that we both liked in one of the stores, and it wasn’t hard to make a decision. Fortunately, the ring was even the right size and fitted her finger perfectly.
To celebrate, we went out in the evening to a local Indian Restaurant that we both like, which does excellent food, and it’s only 5 minutes walk from the house. The meal was wonderful, followed by a walk home, the stars out and an almost full moon shining down on us.
This was a very special day for us both, and we just wanted to share it with all our friends.
Tony & Debbie
Great. After all the frustrations of the last few weeks… weeks? Who am I kidding? MONTHS… Tony is stranded at Atlanta airport due to a flight delay.
When we planned this trip, obviously cost was more of an influencing factor than usual. So we decided on a stop over rather than a direct flight as it was so much cheaper.
First leg was Fort Lauderdale to Atlanta with a one hour ten stop over before boarding the second flight to Gatwick, UK. Just about enough time to make the connection with a few minutes to spare. However, the first flight was delayed by 45 minutes. Great. So Tony, along with another 20 or so passengers making the same journey, were boarded anyway. They arrived at Atlanta around the same time as the Gatwick flight took off.
Now I’ve been on flights across to the UK where we’ve been boarded and then told we were waiting for other passengers from a delayed flight… and we waited and waited. I think it was almost two hours we waited. But Did Delta do that? NO!!! They boarded passengers in Fort Lauderdale fully aware that there was no way they’d make their connections. But did Delta hold the connecting flight so the 20 or so passengers could make it? NO! So it took off right on time.
But wait, there’s a later flight going out of Atlanta… but it was fully booked. The airline staff at the desk kept Tony, and others, waiting for over an hour while they sorted things out. No hotel offered as the delay was due to the weather but they did kindly give him some food vouchers for his 24 hour stay at the airport.
Another passenger suggested they ask to be put on standby for the later flight. This wasn’t actually suggested by the airline. So they found another desk, asked to be put on standby for the 10.10pm flight. That was delayed due to the cleaning crew apparently. A third of the passengers hadn’t turned up (probably delayed from another flight) so things were looking hopeful. But no, due to the delay, they arrived and were boarded. At the last minute, someone who had put their name down before Tony, was in the process of being handed a first class ticket as there had been a no show. Just as he was about to board, in walked a woman who was VERY late for her flight, no apology and that was the last seat taken. So the other passenger was then given a hotel voucher for the night and off he went.
Tony then resigned himself to the fact that he was stranded for the night. He left home at 10 am saturday morning and it was now 11pm at night and the next available flight is 5.20 pm Sunday evening. That arrives at 7am (local time) Monday morning in the UK. He’ll have been travelling for 48 hours by the time he gets here.
I spoke to him this morning, which was around 3.30 am for him. He was cold, thanks to the air con pumping out all night although he had found a nice armless bench to lay on. The lights were all blazing away and the TV’s were all left on. If that wasn’t enough to keep him awake, some cleaners and security officers reguarly walked past talking or laughing at the tops of their voices just to make sure no-one got any sleep.
Although he has his laptop with him, there’s no free access at the airport and currently he’s refusing to pay for it. We’ll see how desperate he gets through the day.
So there we have it. Another frustration to add to the long list. Today we should have been having a relaxing day together. Instead, Tony is exhausted and stranded and I’m sat here worrying. It would have been a nice easy drive to collect him from the airport this morning. Now, I’ll be driving up and back in rush hour traffic and trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near London in Monday morning traffic. I’ve also had to speak to my boss as I’m not going to be here for the start of my working day.
I hope Tony does eventually get some sleep on the flight back tonight but I doubt it. So tomorrow he’ll crash when he gets here and then it’ll take him days to get over his jet lag. Thank goodness he’s not here just for one week.
So, would the person, persons, Gods, long gone ancestors, spirits in the sky, fate or Karma, whatever/whoever you are, please stop testing us… we want to be together, Ok? Live with it!
The inquest into the death of 14-year-old Shaun Jones, heard that he died 12 hours after taking a prescribed tablet for mild acne. Shaun consulted his doctor about spots on his back and shoulder and was prescribed the drug Minocin. But the pharmacy was out of stock of that drug, so in consultation with the doctor, he was given Sebomin instead. Two hours after taking the drug Shaun complained of breathing problems and was taken to hospital in Llantrisant, Wales, where he died the next day. The hearing continues.(Source; Children In The News: Daily Express, 26 Feb 2009, p18; Independent, 26 Feb 2009, p17; Mail, 26 Feb 2009, p35; Mirror, 26 Feb 2009, p19; Sun, 26 Feb 2009, p22; Telegraph, 26 Feb 2009, p12)
You might also find this article interesting THE IMPACT OF ACNE
Four whole months after my interview at the US Embassy in London, and the help of my M.P. (Member of Parliament), this arrived:
Please be advised that we are now in a position to issue your US Visa. Please resubmit your passport to us for visa issuance. Note that you have three months from the date indicated above in which to resubmit your passport.
Three months? It was on it’s way the next day!! Of Course, this email was quickly followed with:
We regret the delay in responding to your inquiry. We have been waiting for information on your case from the Non-Immigrant Visa Unit.
Why the wait? Where have they been?
I have to say, I’ve been appalled at the way this has been handled. This all started to go wrong when Tony and I decided to ‘do things properly’ and get a Non-Immigrant USA Visa to allow my to visit to the USA for a year. How often do you get the opportunity to have a whole year off work to spend in another Country?
At my first interview, I was asked questions about Tony that I simply didn’t know the answer to… why would I know what his social security number is? The consular officer that interviewed me obviously had a hunch that she wasn’t comfortable with and so denied me the visa.
As the Chief Immigration Officer at Miami quite rightly summed it up ‘ I was denied a visa because some A**H*** was having a bad day’ Some bad day. Some bad day that took away my only chance to have a year out. Some bad day that caused me to be held for 15 hours at immigration. Some bad day that left Tony stood in arrivals all night long not knowing what was happening. Some bad day that cost us in changing flights and re-applying for interviews. Some bad day that my employer went to a lot of trouble for and then did it all over again so I could return to work early. Some bad day that meant I had to find somewhere new to live from 4500 miles away. Some bad day that worried my kids, my parents, my friends not to mention Tony and myself. Some bad day that meant I couldn’t even go through the United States in transit. Some bad day that meant Tony and I couldn’t spend time together last week when I had the week off work.
I hope she doesn’t have another bad day any time soon. I appreciate the authorities have to be very careful over who they approve for visa’s, but when you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong, have a government job for which your criminal record has to be checked reguarly, meet all the required criteria, have documentation to prove you intend to return and funds to support yourself, why does it come down to someone’s gut feeling? A gut feeling that left me almost having a nervous breakdown.
A gut feeling that will leave me feeling sick every time I travel to the United States in the future. A gut feeling that will almost give me a panic attack as I go through immigration and see those men in black waiting to check me out.
Surely the system isn’t right if it relies on gut feeling? Do these officials have any idea of the impact on people’s lives when they make these decisions? Her gut feeling was that I wanted to live in America. If that’s what I wanted, why bother going to all the trouble of getting a year off work?
Apologies for sounding angry, but somehow I feel I’m entitled to. Here’s something to make us all smile though – Funny Immigration Video I hope you enjoy it
This is the story of a fun shopping trip I had with my eldest daughter on Saturday. I will do my best to try and bring the character of the area and the sights to life and I hope you enjoy this trip as much as I did.
There is a suburb of Southampton called Portswood. It has a right old mish mash of shops and a very diverse clientele. Portswood is bordered by a very wealthy residential area, student land, and a whole host of cultural communities.
Portswood has a great shopping centre which is spread along the High Street. I suppose it runs for half a mile in length, and each side of the street has a range of banks, pharmacies, charity shops, greengrocers, clothing outlets, bakers, etc. There is a Post Office on one side and a library on the other. There are also various fast food take aways and a couple of restaurants. There is even a high end supermarket (for all the wealthy people) and a low end frozen food shop (for the not so wealthy people). There is a beautiful bridal shop and a Blockbusters video store. There used to be a Woolworths store but alas, the store is now an empty shell as the company have gone into administration.
The High Street (equivalent to Main Street in the USA) used to be the main place to shop in England when we were growing up, but these days most of the shopping is done in the newer malls or shopping centres that are on the outskirts of town, leaving the High Street full of more interesting shops and restaurants, many of them lower end but very diverse.
Well, on Saturday morning, my eldest daughter and her bump which is now a definite, easily recognisable bump) called to ask if I’d like to go and hit the charity shops with her to see if we could find some maternity clothes. We used to go shopping together regularly, but haven’t done this for ages, so I was quite excited about having a girly afternoon with my eldest baby. My daughter had apparently just had a temper tantrum because nothing fitted, so she was in need of something to fit her expanding waistline.
So, I prepared myself with flat boots, plenty of carrier bags, money and a promise of “don’t impulse buy”. Off we went and actually managed to park quite easily, which is a rarity nowadays when shopping in England.
As soon as we got out of the car, Gemma (not her real name) needed the loo (restroom), despite having gone just ten minutes earlier at my house. As luck would have it, there was a public toilet at the entrance to the car park. I waited outside as I knew what was lurking in there (I really dislike having to use public toilets). I heard her close the cubical door which was then followed by cries of “eeerrrr” , “oh no” and “why did I come in here?“ I patiently waited, giggling away, until she reappeared, muttering about “now she knows why she carried antibacterial hand wash in her bag” and “why don’t they clean these places?”
We followed our previously well trodden route which takes us down one side of the road, cross at the pedestrian crossing, and back up the other side. That way, we miss nothing!
The first thing we noticed were that a couple of local businesses had closed down, one a national butcher chain. However, we didn’t let this deter us and we soon found ourselves inside the Barnados Charity shop. There it was, a cream lampshade, just calling to me! “Debbie, I want to be in your bedroom, buy me, buy me“. It was £1.50 ($2.50) and it was brand new! First purchase made… oh yes, I was supposed to be looking for maternity clothes… rummage, rummage, nope nothing let’s move on.
So on we went… past the fish & chip shop, past a newsagents, past a Pound Shop (equivalent to a Dollar Store), past a bingo hall, past an Indian restaurant, and there was our second target the Scope shop which is a Charity for cerebral palsy and disabled people in general. Rummage, rummage, “oh look at those gorgeous emerald green patent shoes, they look brand new” only to be met with “for goodness sake Mother, they may have been ok when you were ten years old, but not now!“ Oh ok… back to the hunt for maternity wear. Then, I saw it waving at me from a hanger… a gorgeous white crinkle cotton blouse… well, I had to have it, didn’t I? I only have about 5 white crinkle cotton tops so I really did need it. Nice hats for weddings etc, no, don’t need those… onto the books… nope nothing there for me but Gemma found one she wanted… nice handbags and “Oh what a gorgeous pair of boots” can I really get my size 7′s (US 9) into a size 5 though? No maternity clothes.
We went past the frozen food shop for the not so wealthy people… past the pub, oh didn’t know there was a pub there, but it’s next to the betting office so probably not a nice pub… past the dry cleaners and across the road to the other side.
Now here’s where I first noticed that there were a lot of foreign accents, and I mean A LOT. As we were looking at the beautiful Cinderella style wedding dresses in the bridal shop window, this poor unfortunate lady walked past us. Over here, long, blouson style tops are in fashion and are worn over jeans, trousers or maybe leggings. Well this lady who sounded Russian obviously didn’t know about the trouser part because she had her bright yellow blouson style top on – which only just covered her derriere I might add – over the top of a pair of grey lacy tights (pantyhose). Well, I wanted to run after her and point out her mistake, but Gemma held me back. At the bottom of the ladies rather large grey lacy covered legs, were a pair of interesting yellow ankle boots and on the top of her head was a grey beret, so it looked like grey head, yellow body, grey large lacy legs, yellow feet… oh dear! But seeing people dressed, ummm, differently, is all part of the colour of Portswood. You will see Asian ladies in Sari’s, students wearing typical student attire, old ladies in things they really shouldn’t be wearing and then normal people like me and Gemma.
So on we went, past the mobile phone shop… past an internet cafe, oh that’s new… past a bank… past a low end shoe shop… past a hardware shop… then into another charity shop, this one was the Cancer Research shop. The lady behind the counter was a real character. She was what I’d call a rough diamond. She had badly bleached blonde hair with two inch dark grey roots which was badly in need of a good cut, lots of cleavage showing, a chain dangling a stone studded ‘R’ around her neck which her cleavage threatened to eat at any second and both hands full of rings… but she was lovely.
By this time, I was fed up with rummage for maternity wear and asked straight out if she had any. She went and found a gorgeous top for Gemma and we matched it up with some trousers too. As I was talking to the lovely lady, I spotted a beautiful pinky coloured cashmere cardigan which had been displayed on a wall. I asked to look at it, which of course involved the use of a step ladder and the voluptuous cleavage threatened to escape as the lovely lady made her way back down the ladder with my best find of the day. It still had the Marks & Spencers tags attached. It was made with cashmere & angora… price £8.95!!! Originally, it would have been £40-50. M & S sells good quality clothing that lasts for years. It’s not cheap though, but it’s also not the most expensive, but everyone here loves Marks & Sparks as we call it.
Then the bargains flowed, shop after shop we found some great stuff… maternity combat trousers, big baggy tops, a sparkly evening top for me and then… oh I just have to have you… my little darlings, you’ve just been waiting for me to find you… what caught my eye? A pair of gold, satin covered, open backed, kitten heeled shoes with a little jewel on each side… I know, they sound terrible but they are just perfect for a party I’m going to next weekend. I’ll be wearing a black trouser suit with a lovely cream top and the shoes will be discreetly, yet still on show, tucked under the black hems. Now of course, I might not be able to walk in them and I imagine dancing will probably be out of the question… maybe after a few lemonades I might attempt a dance, we’ll see.
We found a Polish shop. No, not a Polish shop that sells Polish. A Polish shop for Polish food shopping. We have the country’s largest Polish community here, and shops to cater for their needs are popping up everywhere. So we went in to see what delights they had. Well there was jar after jar of some lovely looking things, no idea what they were though.
When we eventually crossed the road at the top of the High Street, we were laden down with bags. Our feet were aching and Gemma was needing another bathroom moment but decided to wait… wonder why? We went into an Asian food shop where Gemma found some Botong for her South African husband. Botong is, I think, raw meat flavoured with goodness knows what and made to look like a sausage. Gemma tricked me once into tasting some and assured me it was cooked. I won’t tell you how it tasted or how my stomach reacted, I’ll leave that to your imagination. Anyway, Gemma thought her husband wouldn’t notice how many bags she had if she took that home for him… smart girl
We approached a fabulous shop selling all kinds of fresh fruit, vegtables and flowers. Over here, it’s quite common for shops to display their goods outside the front of the shop so you can select what you want and then go inside to pay. As we got closer to the door, Gemma started making some interesting sounds… almost like pleasurable gasps really. Then it hit me… the smell of fresh fish. Whilst my stomach was turning over and threatening to evacuate it’s contents, Gemma was in sniffing heaven. Great big gulps of fishy smell went into that girl… it’s a craving she has, the smell of fish… I waited outside turning a shade of green and trying to sniff the air coming the other way while she went and sniffed around and eventually came out with a bag of fresh fish and a gleaming happy face.
We then returned to the car, weary and tired but happy with our bargains. I made sure the fish was put in the boot (trunk) before we made our way home.
Can’t wait to go again…
Well, it’s happened. I’m going to join all those mature people who are known as Grandparents. A new generation is currently preparing itself to enter this world. A journey that I am so excited about.
I had told all three of my children years ago that there was no way on this earth was I going to be ready to be a Grandmother until I was at least fifty. So last summer, I had that magical birthday and I just knew what was going to happen next. And it did. And I am SO excited!
My eldest daughter Gemma is going to be a mother. She and her husband have been trying for a long old while to have a baby, so it’s a much wanted new addition. I remember at my birthday party telling her that her body would be saying ‘phew, the old bird finally hit 50, we can relax now and make that baby’ , and it did …
This week, Gemma recorded the baby’s heartbeat on her mobile (cell) phone as the midwife listened to it. Then of course, the recording was sent to me via a text message and I have that precious little beating on my phone. I reguarly listen to it, especially when I’m feeling a bit low (due to current events).
Every time I go shopping, I’m there in the baby aisle getting all the special offers. I’m gradually building my own superstore full of baby goodies. I’ve had conversations with new Mum’s in the aisle about which are better, Pampers or Huggies?
Funny isn’t it, when I think of this new baby, or about my daughter becoming a mother, I see a baby girl in her arms. Now I have no preference what-so-ever, but that’s what I see in my mind. If I find myself in the clothes section, I find myself looking at all the little pink frilly outfits, without even realising it. As a Mother of two girls, I desperately wanted a boy and waited a long time for my son to make an appearance, so it surprises me in a way that I’m leaning towards the pink variety LOL!
I decided very early on, that I want to be known as Nana Deb. Grandmother is so ageing, as is Grandma. My own mother is Nanny, so I don’t want that title as well.
The baby isn’t due until July, which happens to be the same month as my birthday, so we still have a long way to go. But watching Gemma’s tummy swell, and helping her through the sickness and emotional roller coaster that has hit her has brought all my maternal instincts flowing again.
Her father and I have agreed to go halves on a 3 in 1 travel system that she wants. The one she has her eye on is over 500 pounds! I’ve told her to have a re-think on that. As her father says, you can get a used car for that LOL!!
So along with my visa trauma’s, I have something very special to look forward to. Oh, the first scan is on Tuesday. I was desperate to ask if I could go, but that’s my son-in-laws place to be by her side, not mine. I can’t wait to see the photograph though!
Please note, The image used here is of a ‘marzipan’ baby made by Camille Allen.
If you’ve seen the “The Smell of Rain” or “Marzipan Babies” ( Or “Sugar Babies”) email, you have probably seen some images taken from this website www.hoax-slayer.com . However those pictures are really of sculptures created out of clay by Camille Allen.
The babies are not made of Marzipan – they were never made of marzipan or sugar or almond paste. They are not real premature babies.