What personality trait in people raises a red flag with you?
I have to say that anyone who doesn’t look me straight in the eye 👁️ suggests to me that the person is not sincere and may even be lying. They certainly will give the impression that they’re not saying what they are thinking. 🤔
Someone in a group conversation, constantly looking at their phone suggests that they aren’t interested in the company. Disrespectful.
Someone who gossips about others behind their backs. If they do it to others they’ll do it to you.
Watch how they treat others.
A positive personality trait is how they treat others. A red flag is being derogatory, unpleasant or simply just rude.
Name the professional athletes you respect the most and why.
I am probably going to upset many of you by saying I don’t respect any professional athletes.
First of all I’m not a sporty person and therefore don’t follow any sports. I used to like tennis in the 70’s and eighties when there were genuine players who played for the love of the game. Jimmy Connors, John McEnroe and others with real personalities.
From what I see nowadays the current professional athletes play for the rewards of fame and money. Let’s face it they spend their time doing what they enjoy and travel the world getting paid obscene amounts of money, some due to advertising and tv appearances, so what exactly is there to respect.
Maybe I am being unfair but I find it hard to compare a hard working doctor or nurse to the life of a professional athlete.
When I sit down and put my feet up I feel guilty that I should be using my time in a more productive way.
I have an Apple Watch and it usually beeps to let me know when my heart beat is below 45. Yes I know that’s very low but I’m on a beta blocker. It usually happens when I’m on social media, twitter in particular so I obviously relax while scrolling and going off on many tangents.
Another way I like to relax is walking. I walk almost every day beside the sea, taking in the changing views, depending on the weather. I feel very relaxed when I get back home.
We all have our own ways to relax, for my husband it’s golf. but whatever yours is do it as often as you can, it will benefit you in the long run.
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
‘Sticks and stones may hurt my bones but words will never hurt me.’
I have to confess and this may put you off reading further articles but I have a swear word, which I do use on a fairly regular basis.
I only use it at home when something isn’t going right or there is a minor disaster.
I use it sparingly with friends and family but it is the first swear word that pops into my head.
When I was younger it was rarely used on tv 📺 or social media but now it’s in common use and most tv shows especially after the watershed are using it copiously.
My elderly aunts and my parents would have had a fainting fit if I’d uttered the word in their company.
Thankfully, as it’s just a word, it’s not a major blunder to use this expletive, and in fact it appears to be quite acceptable by some people.
So if you know the word I’m talking about and it makes you feel that I’m a bad person for using it, then you can fly away off 😂
A strong feeling of anger and dislike for a person who treated you badly:
No I’m not holding any grudges.
I have in the past. I’ve been hurt by those close to me on many occasions, either by what they did or what they said.
After a breakdown which ended up in counselling I realised that holding grudges was affecting me and not those I was angry with.
So I let the anger go. It took a while but time is a great healer and when I look back now I’m so glad that I did.
No one can get through life being angry all the time. Not good for mental or physical health. You don’t have to forget but you don’t have to feel hate and anger.
So to use the old cliche ‘ Life is too short’ and that is why I can say while I haven’t forgotten I don’t hold any grudges.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
So where did you go for your holidays? Much asked question at this time of year, especially on a visit to the hairdressers.
Well I don’t actually like holidays so I didn’t go anywhere, I answer. Shock horror. I might as well have said I hate puppies.
Why I hear you ask do you not like holidays? Well maybe not. But I’ll tell you anyway.
Where do I start?
Probably the fact that I’ve had many disasters. And then there is the fact that I don’t like flying. ( I’m ok with boats provided its a short journey). Where do you get a suitable climate if you are fair skinned like me, and I’m being kind to myself with that description, cause I’m actually pasty white.
Go somewhere like Spain where the temperature can reach 33 degrees and you are asking for trouble. Which is exactly what I did some years ago and the result was disastrous. What was I thinking?
After driving from Belfast to Girona ( I did mention I don’t like flying) we booked into what was supposed to be our base for the next few weeks.
A house had been rented for us by a friend in Spain. Either the friend didn’t like us, and wasn’t really our friend, or he didn’t actually have a look at it. Enough to say it was well below my expectations. So I did what any woman in my position would do. I threw a tantrum. I cried and I blamed the hubby. I point blank refused to stay in Casa Twadell. ( only NI readers will get that reference). After negotiation with the management we got an upgrade and for a while I was content. That was until the temperature reached 40 degrees.
As a result of the high temperatures, forest fires broke out in the hills nearby. We awoke, well rather we got up the next morning (there was no air conditioning so sleep was nigh impossible) to find the car covered in ash. It was drifting in from the forest fires and although the smell of wood burning in Autumn is pleasant, it’s not what you want on a holiday in Spain.
It smelt more like Belfast on the 11th night. So we were now risking suffering from lack of air and being burnt out of our holiday home. It couldn’t get any worse. Don’t bet on it? After a lovely meal in the nearby Santa Christina d’Aro, I began to feel a tightening in my joints. They had become noticeably red but I put it down to sunburn and rubbed in cooling cream.
The next morning I awoke to find I was wearing a pair of inflated rubber gloves. What you may ask? It was only when I had a proper look I realised that both hands had swollen so badly that they looked like inflated rubber gloves. Panic set in. We set off looking for a doctor, hubby pretending all was ok, but actually imagining how he would cope in a foreign country with the wife in hospital.
The first doctor we were directed to was a doctor in private practice. He charged 25 pesetas to tell me I needed a steroid injection. My nervousness at having an injection paid off. I told him I would come and have it the next day if it didn’t get any better. Came out of his surgery turned the corner and found a walk-in clinic that accepted our E111. As a further sign this was a place I could trust, the doctor was a Dr Allen and she was Scottish. After diagnosing a severe case of urticaria or nettle rash as it’s commonly called, she gave me an injection. She also gave me a valium to slow my heart rate.
To hubby’s relief the valium knocked me out for a couple of hours and I woke up drooling but with some of the tightness in my hands gone. However all the blood vessels had burst and should a part have been available in Dr Who, I was your woman. Wouldn’t have needed make up at all. When I want to scare the grandkids I show them the pictures. Eating with cutlery was well out of the question for the next few days and while dining out I really felt I should have been ringing a bell and shouting unclean.
We somehow managed to get through the next few days without any drama until the night before we were returning home. Remember, we had driven here. I woke up with a tummy bug and all that goes with that distressing condition. I won’t go into details as many of you have been there. Suffice to say that while on route to Calais, I made a call at every service station between Girona and Bourg-en -Bresse.
Now if you know the geography of France you will be saying to yourself ‘thon’s a funny route to take to Calais’. It was you see pre sat nav days. As a result of me moaning and groaning in the back, the big son misread the map and we ended up 80 kilometres to the East, heading for the Italian border.
However that was one of the better parts of the holiday. We booked into a beautifully quaint hotel, and watched an exhilarating thunderstorm from the comfort of our rooms.You will be glad to hear if you stayed with me this long, that we arrived home safely, marriage still intact.
Still don’t like holidays and haven’t had one since 2010!!! Happy to stay close to home.🏡
Watching my children and grandchildren doing well brings tears to my eye.
Getting their first jobs, first houses, and being happily settled makes me happy.
My husband became a Professor after years of hard work contributing to research and academia. I found it quite emotional. When he was given the all clear for bladder cancer was also a day of happy tears. Different but happy.
The day I graduated from university at the age of 50 did make me shed a few happy tears. It was something I had wanted to do for many years but life got in the way.
My daughter recently became a nurse prescriber after working as a nurse for almost 30 years and we were very proud. I have a tear in my eye when I see how my son has progressed in a business environment and the acclimation he gets from his peers.
I could mention other family achievements but I don’t want to appear boastful. So these and other achievements brings joyful tears to my eyes.
It was a Housing Association with many complexes throughout Northern Ireland. There was a monthly magazine and I did a column with all the news from headquarters and the different dwellings.
Eventually I started writing short stories and was thrilled with the response
When I had my children I didn’t have time, university took up most of my time too, but one day I noticed an appeal for writers and I thought I’d have a go.
It was so successful that I was asked to contribute more, which I did.
So I think what keeps me blogging is the feedback. If no one was reading my blogs I probably wouldn’t be writing. My video blog on Twitter has had over 60,000 views. It’s the story of my growing up in NI from 1949 – 1979.
So I guess I write because there’s always someone who’ll read it and that spurs me on. I’m also quite opinionated so like to have a view on all that’s going on. 🤭
Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.
I decided to interview my younger self aged 19.
Where do you think you’ll be in 50 years?
Gosh that’s old. I don’t want to think about getting old. Don’t want to think much about the future.
Are you happy with your life ?
Not really I didn’t work hard enough at school so like a lot of my friend’s didn’t make university and I’m working as a Clerical officer in the Civil Service.
Do you get on with your parents?
No not really. I’m seeing a Protestant boy at the moment and my parents don’t approve. We have to keep our meetings secret or there are all sorts of rows. I left home when I was 16 and now live in the city.
What are your interests? Don’t really have any. Like pop music and going to see the big groups coming over from England.
What do you think of the situation in NI at the moment?
It’s very sad and quite frightening. Lying in bed at night, hearing gun shots, explosions and seeing rows of houses burnt out.
Will you stay here?
I’m not sure. Despite everything I love my family and wouldn’t like to leave them.
How do you survive on your own?
I get £27 per month and I live in a hostel at the moment which is £2 per week and that includes food. The nuns are quite strict though.
Ok thanks for talking to me.
Note. I did go to university when I was 50. Married the Protestant( with parents approval) stayed in Belfast. Had 2 children and four grandchildren and got well past the grand old age of 50. lol
CHATTER 