My favourite life coach

Nope, that's not a picture of some 40's Indian movie star. That's my maternal Grandmother, known to her husband as Meena, not by the way, her real name, and the rest of us as Granny. Pictures of her show what my grandfather saw when he first laid eyes on her and fell in love. She was and is still today an extremely beautiful woman with the porcelain skin, full lips and dark curly hair though it is now all grey. An octogenarian, she became Granny at nearly the same age I am now, something that I would find hugely distressing and wonder that she did not. Though these days she may look more like the typical picture of the lovable granny type with her short, glasses wearing self, her tongue and wit have not lost their sting and her love and dhal and rice are still the best things to come home to.

My Granny has always been the mainstay of our family, despite my Pappy being the one with the larger than life personality, she is the engine room that kept it all ticking over. All the women in my family have worked and Granny is no exception in that she ran a house with 8 kids, two in-laws and the family shop while Pappy was working for Shell all over the world. In a time where we have courses to teach us how to be emotionally intelligent, manage effectively, blah, blah, blah,blah it is amazing that this woman who barely went to primary school, is in fact, a management specialist, financial wizard, project coordinator and chef even though she would deny that she's done anything out of the ordinary.

At 17, as arranged by her parents she married Pappy and went off to a very different life having grown up with a water pipe in her yard and her father's shop, she moved to the "country" to live at her in-laws with no running water or electricity. Carrying water from the river, cooking on a chulha (woodstove), washing everyone's clothes, working in the garden and having children became the routine. It must have been quite a hard life, great-granny was not known for being the easiest person to get along with, and lonely too, Pappy got his job at Shell and was working 16 hour double shifts.

On his very limited salary she managed to feed, clothe and save enough for them to buy their first property. In our family, her ability to hang on to a penny is legend, with dishes like back & neck chicken pelau, leftovers that became layovers and other gems. We still tease her about that stuff but ironically, it is those very traits that with the spiraling inflation rate, we are now all falling back on. An early proponent of reduce, reuse and recycle, except in her case it was, don't throw that out we might need it; Granny used plastic butter containers for storage, cut up towels for dishcloths, used sheets until they were soft and worn, comfortable and comforting, long before it became fashion again. All those years of hardship left her with an unerring eye for saving a dollar and making do without showing discomfort. The concept of disposable income is alien to her, as are credit cards and vacation loans. If you want something, suck it up and save for it is her take and you know what, she has a point.

When my Grandad was alive they travelled extensively, made a nice home for themselves, helped out their kids, ran their shop, estate and sundry other ventures, all on the strength of what they earned and what they saved. Valuable lesson right there. One that I'm quickly coming to appreciate more and more each day... but I still wouldn't want to be called Granny at 40+!

I'm back

Oh dear, the honeymoon is definitely over, reality has set in and there is no doubt, I'm back in Trinidad. Should have guessed from the traffic coming at me all over the highway on the drive from the airport last week, but yesterday, it took half an hour to get from Pembroke Street to the Library building, and we had to go via Wrightson Road! Something that is a ten minute walk except for the nasty pavement, four inch heels and eye burning heat.

At least I can look at my tan and draw my memories around me to ward off the creeping entropy that threatens to return.

Time in a bottle

Paul Anka has a song called 'The Times of Your Life' and for years it was the Kodak company theme song. In fact, there is a whole generation of people who probably remember the lyrics just from the ads that played on television selling cameras. Now, everyone has a phone camera, digital camera or even a disposable camera. Many of us have boxes full of photographs that we rarely look at it, or countless files full of digital images on our computer. This relentless documenting of every moment, posted up for every voyeur to share in every moment of our lives, memories become less precious and private.

When I set off on this break I was told to take along a camera and make sure and bring back pictures so everyone could see. But I didn't. I don't own a digital camera, I still operate in film; though there is a camera mode on my phone, I don't use it because it does not adequately capture what I want. I've discovered, having worked in television for all those years, that I don't want to relentlessly document every moment. I think of myself as a wordsmith, one still honing the craft but nonetheless, I would prefer to colour your perceptions with my words as opposed to pictures which are unambiguous. True, you will see what I see, but maybe not in the way that I see it from a carelessly taken picture.

I didn't want to spend my time behind the lens, I do that every day if you think about it. Instead, I prefered to experience the grains of white sand between my toes, feeling the roughness of the lounger under my back while I turned my face to the sun each day, reveling in the warmth and heat. And maybe you missed the dive boat bobbing at the end of the wooden jetty, but it featured in the corner of my eye as a marker to how far I was from shore. As did the line of happy red buoys marking off the boat passage into the bay making it safe to swim without fear of being hit.

The little bay off of the Cotton House is truly beautiful. In the distance you can see Bequia but really, you don't look that far. The bay, full of little fishes, curious, darting at your toes is much more interesting. As I float on my back cushioned by the cool embrace of the sea, the sky seems close enough to touch and I feel like I never want to go back to the craziness of every day. A quick shake before collapsing on the lounger, Guiness coming to visit, his furry brown body wiggling in ecstasy as I scratch behind his ears or rub his tummy.

My life has been a constant of crunch across the dry, cracking earth, begging for rain, to the beach where all there is to do is nothing but relax. Lesuirely lunches, sleeping if I want or a quick walk down the lanes into 'town'. Three shops, the bakery or drinks on the sea, maybe a homemade ice cream dripping deliciously on my fingers in the heat. The quirky trees lining the lanes all have personalities, they reach upwards inviting you to look at them and guess as to what they resemble, no walk is boring, you never know when you'll trip over one of the island's tortoises who have the run of the place.

So no, even though I included a picture of Guniness the wonder dog who is much more photogenic than me, I don't have tons of photos to mark this occasion but I do have many happy memories that will stay with me to be shared in the telling. Thanks to everybody here who made me feel so welcome, for taking care of me and caring that I had a good time.Do you remember the times of your life?

Novel

Wow, this is what kicking back feels. My friend Slacker wrote this most excellent blog about his love for the sea and words. You should go read it.

Sun, sun, here it comes!

There must be something to all those studies that say people get happy in the sun or at least it's more bearable. Statistics show that there are more suicides in winter in cold countries. In the West Indies we don't usually kill ourselves because we're depressed, it's because we get 'horned' or we get 'vex' with somebody. I won't go into ethnic sterotyping, largely because I'll get hate e-mail which is kind of annoying. I have noticed though, since I've been sitting around in the sunshine, evey day so much so I look like a piece of polished wood, I'm a lot more relaxed.


Sure it took a little time for me to wind down, the first day I was bouncing off the walls, by day two all the walking around had burned off the negative energy. Since then I've been decamped on a really lovely beach, picture perfect, blue skies, clear water with little waves, white sand, loungers, beach umbrellas, it's been grand. But I did briefly wonder, are we so unhappy at work because all the offices are painted grey, with dark carpets and air conditioned so cold that some days you can't feel your fingers? And I think the answer might be yes. People are conditioned by their environment and colours also play a big part in this. In developed countries they've stopped painting hospitals all white and have gone to healing colours like green and yellow which are cheery. All the better to make you feel better.

I'm not complaining about my working conditions, some people have it worse. Sitting here with the sand between my toes and the sun shining on my shoulders, the world is not so bad. Anyway, this is cutting into my quality beach time with Guiness lounging at my feet.....

Birthday present

My little bro gave me one of the best presents ever. For the first time in fifteen years we have been under the same roof for an extended period, just the two of us hanging out together. It's been great, at least for me, don't know how he feels about having a house guest taking up his space, bed etc for this long!

I know I've pointed out in the past that I wanted to trade him in for a dog but that's just talk. I like my brother as a person and I think, even if we hadn't been related I would still like him. He puts up with me bless his heart.

For the last three days he's allowed me to do absolutely nothing, something I very rarely get to do, and I've been slowly winding down, like a clock, the ticks are coming less often. But I don't mind, maybe it will make me less intense, or maybe I will feel less keenly the things I cannot control. All I know is having been here has made me understand how close I was to totally exploding from the stress of always doing or trying to do. And also to realise how unimportant it all is at the end.

We all want what is best but we also have to know when to let it go. Life can only become as toxic if you let it. As I watch my brother go about his business I can only marvel at how competant he is and how much his staff seem to appreciate him. It's not that easy, I know, and I'm very glad that despite everything else that has gone on in our lives that he retains some of the best qualities.

So bro, if I haven't said it before, you're the best and I wouldn't trade you in for anything! Thanks.

Another one bites the dust!

Okay, it's another year gone by. Will have to spend some time reflecting on what I want to do, where I want to go. That kind of thing. Because I have to, unless I want to spend more of my life just marking time.

Caribbean idyll

For the first time in ages I was fishing around for something to say. Over the last few days I've been saving up a host of blog ideas but truthfully I'm tired of writing about all the awful stuff. There is a part of me that really just wants to veg on the beach, watch the waves, pet Guiness Jagger and not take on anything. So that's what I'm going to do.

Sometimes you just have to let it all go and let yourself have that breathing space to know that your life is where it needs to be in this moment. I'm not going to get all existential, this is just what is now.

So I enjoyed my brief trot around the ciruit this afternoon, marvelled at the quiet, oohed at the tortoises, nice touristy things that don't require me to destroy a few more brain cells. We all know I'm not used to doing nothing but I sure as heck am going to get some practice in!

See ya'all later!

T-minus and counting

Laughter is an instant vacation - Milton Berle

Have a lot of laughs!

Bugger off

In less than two days I'll be barreling up the highway singing Freedom at the top of my lungs. I guess you could tell that I'm looking forward to getting out of here for some R&R. The hound has realised that something is amiss, the suitcase came down, he knows what that means. He and the Xman, who's house sitting, will have some quality time together. Whatever, my arrangements are all made.

The sun is shining, the sky is so blue that it almost hurts your eyes to look at it. Okay, I'm not about to start singing or anything equally foolish. But I was feeling rather together this morning so I decided to wear my "girly" dress to work. Now I very rarely wear dresses as a rule being a tom boy and all that. This particular dress does take some courage to wear, it's fitted, black and white pattern and though it's knee length with high neck and long sleeves it's a very Womanly dress. I feel like a girl in this dress, I've stopped traffic while wearing it. I'm not some svelte, toned beauty type, far from it! Smugly I will admit that I have a nice ass, or so I'm told and the sight of it in this dress has caused various otherwise sensible men, to say things that they may have not voiced.

Why am I bringing it up you wonder? Well, there I was, feeling on top of the world and I was brought crashing back when a woman, who I only know from the coffee shop, offered to give me a "cure" for my not so slim waistline. Well hold up darlin", who asked you? Yes I refused the muffin on the pretext of fitting into my swimsuit, which is too big by the way. (stop laughing Blue). Now I wanted to ask if perchance we were having a relationship which meant that she saw me naked and it was bothering her. Last I checked we weren't, but I contained myself admirably I thought. I however refuse to be crushed! Nothing is going to ruin my mood so help me. And I am comforted by the thought that while I sun in the aforementioned swimsuit, she and all the other detractors will be slaving away dreaming of what I have. Shallow? Yes, but if you can't say something positive to someone, just shut up.

Out came the sunshine

The sun finally came out properly this morning. In three days I'll be climbing into a swimsuit for the first time in two years and sunning myself on a beach. My heart is singing at the thought and the rest of me has already started the process of disconnecting. I go to work but it's not so bad, I have something to look forward to.

My heart goes out to those farmers who lost their hard labour in the floods over the weekends. The price of food is rising daily so this does not help the situation. Actually, the price of everything is going up shortly. In a month we'll pay more for electricity which usually causes price hikes from the manufacturing sector. In an effort to reduce "consumerism" the banks have again raised their lending rates, not their interest on savings etc. At every turn the average Joe or Mary is being charged more and making less. How can you save if you have nothing left over from paying bills?

It's sad, but to some degree I've had to give up my smiling ladies, they've become a treat. I wonder what will happen to them if everyone starts doing the same and I lament that as a society we'll lose another valuable piece of ourselves.

Meanwhile, I'm still thankful to the universe that I live on a tropical island, that I know good folks, my hound is happy and in three days I get to hang with one of my most favourite people, my little bro.

Still raining

It's April, we don't expect that it's going to be raining like this yet. I love the rain, even when I'm stuck in my office or trying to get from one place to another when it's pelting down. Rain can be very healing. There's nothing like curling up in your bed under a blankie with your book listening to the large drops hammer on the galvanised roof or watching through the windows as the run off streams down into the drains. It's almost soothing. As a child, playing in the rain was mandatory, as was the smacking you took for getting wet. But there's nothing like turning your face up to the dark sky and feeling each drop as it hits you, your clothes sticking to your skin, hair plastered but happy, happy, free.

August is one of the rainiest months here. In the pre two hundred odd cable channel, X-box, Internet days we craved things to do because we couldn't go outside. We learnt to bake cookies to ward off the insistent hunger caused by boredom; played Monopoly until someone got beat up for cheating. Can anyone remember Parcheesi? We honed our All fours and other card playing skills and generally drove each other nuts waiting for the rain to end to burst out to hop in the puddles and mud.

Rain is a familiar friend that drives away the burning heat of the dry season for the damp humidity of the wet. The flowers disappear but the lush foliage in every imaginable shade of green cloaks the hills, roadsides and gardens. The voluptuous fecundity caused by the heat with ripening fruit and overblown flowers is gone, replaced by the sensuous slide of droplets on skin, the promise of snuggling under the sheets or even singing in the rain.

In want

They sure don't make electrical appliances the same way anymore. Crap, I sound like Granny! It used to be that appliances were built to last a long time and were sold with that promise. Lifetime warranties? What's that? Sure you can get them but for the life span of of the average mobile phone, computer and appliance redundant in six months, not years. It's not hip to discuss longevity in our increasingly transient world when everything is geared towards accumulating new, better, whatever models, never mind about sustainability or environmental sense.

My dryer, inherited from my former sister-in-law and her husband was bought back before the birth of their first child some 26 years ago, it was a very forward model with digital readings and things. As an old environmental hack, conscious about carbon footprints, energy efficiency and all that, I'm always concerned about using it since it was made in the pre-Energy star days. It works pretty well though, that is when it's not acting up.

But I confess, I've been lusting after a batch of new, spiffy appliances for quite a while. The stainless steel, five burner gas range, fridge with freezer on the bottom, you know. Now I'm not one of those house proud types but I do love nice kitchen appliances, it takes me back to my cooking days when I had a Garland Grill and other joys. The last fridge I'd bought died the day after the two year warranty was up. Lucky old me. I ended up with the man's fridge a ten or eleven year old veteran when I got it.

My washing machine, bought new for a change, quit on me again last night. It does that from time to time when it decides it needs a rest. Except this time it was full of clothes, towels and water. It will not drain, it will not rinse, it will not spin. Clearly our romance is over and it's given up the ghost. I have to call a repairman of course. But then, I also need to find someone to fix the rusting on the fridge, the timing something on the dryer and yes, I would REALLY like a proper oven. My stove was made for people who don't cook, even though it has four burners, it was slightly used when I got it and they only kinda work.

For the first time ever, I long for something other than a nice vacation, hot shoes or bag or a stack of books. These are my usual wants. Now. I. Want. A. New Fridge/Stove/Washer etc. Pretty to look at, energy efficient, quiet and mostly, new. Does that make me shallow? Do I really care? Nope.

Accident?

Well the morning started off with a bang and not in a good way either. Had a later start caused by sick man waking me up last night. I was in no mood to be washing out coffee pot and all of that for ONE cup but I had to, had to have my coffee, so it was made by someone else. If you've never been to the Rituals in St. James it's a nice enough place, large glass windows that look out onto the busy Western Main Road. It's kind of hard to hide in there because you can be seen from all sides so if you don't like eating in the public eye, it's not the place for you.

Standing making small talk with the other regulars and Adanna behind the counter as she expertly swirled up a Moccachino, a regular with Hazelnut and Vanilla Latte, tall, it was just another fine morning. The Drummer guy (name withheld) and I were at the counter looking out at the street. We heard the brakes first, everything happened in stop motion after that. The blue car ran into the back of the goldish coloured car, bumper parts, broken lights flying everywhere, everyone behind them pulling on brakes and moving aside to try an avoid the wreck. Simultaneously a grey pick up coming in the opposite direction swerved round the side managing to clip the edge of the cars before ploughing into an old Cressida parked illegally on the side of the road. The force of the impact pushed the Cressida into the on-coming traffic causing people to swerve everywhere. Debris all over the place, the pedestrians on the sidewalk breathing heavily I'm sure. It was a really close call.

The Gayelle folks must have a had a field day because they're often shooting their morning programme out in front of their building across from the Infirmary. They and the lady from the Fruit shop were literally first on the scene, talk about breaking news. All of us in Rituals were a little shaken, if the pick-up hadn't stopped it would have ended up over on our side. Thousands of dollars in damage in seconds. Fortunately no one was badly hurt, miscellaneous bruises, scrapes, banged up hand. The pick up looks like a write off, the air bags deployed in there and in the cars that had them which should give you an idea of the force of the impact. At least five or six vehicles were damaged, the traffic was unbelievable. People were pouring out of the Infirmary to macco, of course. Even harder to believe, the police station is within walking distance, they could see the drama from their roof. Up until the time I left, clutching my coffee, chaos was prevailing and nary an officer in sight.

I watched a friend trying to get around the wreck blocking the road, he was lucky, he'd missed the drama by minutes. It was an accident caused by stupidity, lack of attention and ego, like most road accidents in this country. It was made more appalling by the amount of people witnessing this travesty and then, further compounding the stupidity by driving like assholes because they wanted to pass NOW.

There are many mornings where I have had to dodge people driving the wrong way up a clearly marked one way street. Yes I know there is insurance but it doesn't help you when you're dead right. I am totally sick of the carnage that prevails on our roads because we are discourteous, uncaring, lawless and lack responsibility. Every time I hear that someone "lost control of the car" or the other platitudes used by newspapers I wonder. How fast were they going and how good a driver were they to begin with? Speed does not equal sense. Tin foil Japanese cars are more likely to flip or swerve when stopped suddenly at high speed. Tank like European cars like mine have a longer stopping radius due to the weight of the car, yes it can go from 0 to whatever in 60 seconds but you have to know how to apply the brakes. Our awful road conditions don't help.

So, yes I am a trifle shaken but this morning's event. I'd prefer if the only jolt that I got was from my coffee.

Lord of the Castle

The residents of Casa Coffeewallah all know who the boss is, the male components both think it is them. I, lowly woman am very aware of my status as provider of lovies, food and back/belly rubs depending on the species. I'm also the cleaner, cook, laundress and walkies lady but that's another story.

In truth, the ruler of the roost is the hound. Of course he is, he spends more time in the castle than I do. He generally whiles away his day snoozing on my bed or under the bathroom sink with the occasional frantic barking at whatever just to let the neighbours know he is on the watch. At night he briefly patrols the yard but, having barked at Sandy next door and peeing on the gate requiring hosing, he bounds up the stairs and limes in front of the tv with whomever happens to be watching. When reprimanded for transgressions he has expressions ranging from, who me, to quizzical, eyebrow lifted to John Cleese in a FIsh Called Wanda.

The dog is a ham and an expert in turning up the guilt. He deserves an Academy award for his ability to sigh and assume the put upon position (left paw tucked under, right paw alongside nose, body slightly curled to allow tail to rest under stomach, ears folded back). It's hard to be mad at him when those big brown eyes radiate sincerity as you come in through the door at the end of a hard day, usually when he's eaten something he shouldn't have or tripped up the garbage can.

He is the best alarm clock on the planet. The rahtid animal will wake me, not the man, up at 5:30 AM to be fed, walked and what ever else. If, woe betide you, you fail to arise at his first nudging, he will, in order; hit you with his big head, paw at you from the side of the bed. If unsuccessful he will up his game, climb up on the bed and dig you out from under the covers. He knows that if he irritates the man enough, I'll get up to keep the peace. Yes, I know I'm being manipulated, the Dog Whisperer would have a fit but you know what, he doh live here. You try to deal with a ninety pound Partweiler when you're half asleep. I understand however, when I am not around, he will sleep until whenever his master chooses to arise and will be the model picture of faithful dog. Needless to point out, there are days when I wish they would all run away from home.

Of course we should have known when we got him. Having had the beautiful doberman die suddenly, the mutt was a substitute. He looked like a sweet puppy, all fuzzy, floppy ears, big paws and melting eyes. I eyed him, figured that he was going to be a big guy and called him Zeus. You think I would have known better names giving power and all that. Now he really does think that he's Master of all he surveys.

Cold!

It's really cold in here today. I can barely feel my fingers as I type this blog. It's almost like being back working in foreign, wishing I was home in the sunlight. Except, I am home, where the average daily temp is 34 degrees, celsius. That would make it very hot outside, hotter when the sun is shining which it isn't today. Today it's kind of watery blue out, dark grey clouds so you know it's going to be raining at 3:00 and all the staff will be packing up to go home as soon as they can sneak off.

It's so cold that I'm wearing a shawl and eating cup of soup with my hands wrapped around the container. I swear my breath is coming out cloudy when I speak. Why is it, we live in the tropics and yet feel the need to air condition ourselves to the point that it is just as uncomfortable as if we were in the heat. But then, why do we wear lined suits emulating our brothers in the cold?

Years ago as a liaison for a WIPO consultant, we spent the better part of a lunchtime walking, yes, WALKING around Port of Spain so that he could see the town. There I was, stalking around in four inch heels and neat little blue suit on the uneven, vagrant lined pavements. It was exhausting and tiresome, not to mention hot. I didn't mind so much because I got to show my visitor, who was very interested, the original architecture of my capital city. There were the lace balconies on Frederick St., very like the one's in the French Quarter in New Orleans. The Red House, little old shop fronts mixed in with the newer buildings. Jean Paul was enthralled at our rich heritage and stopped to admire the Chang mural in City Hall. He wore light weight summer suits which were made of cotton and reveled in the brief off time that he had, sunning round the Hilton poolside.

I wish someone would tell the air-con Mafia that it's okay to turn it up to a more acceptable 28 degrees. That way we wouldn't maybe get ill so often from breathing in recirculated air and the requisite spores and the constant change from very hot to very cold as we go about our business. And for those of you who LOVE the cold, you might want to consider where you live, in case you hadn't noticed, the default setting is hot.

Things

This is my fourth attempt at today's blog. I have a lot of stuff going on inside that I want to write about but somehow think that I should leave alone. People getting killed for standing up for themselves, outrageous prices, all kinda ting. And then I thought, time to disconnect my mind and live in the now. If you haven't read Eckhart Tolle's book The Power of Now, you should. It makes getting through the days a lot easier. You process differently.

Last week I spent a great deal of time admiring the fine figure of a man. Not my man, not even close. I was working, again, but I got lucky, Wendell Manwarren was involved. Now if you hadn't already guessed, Wendell is one of my favourite people. Not because he is good looking, though he is, not because he's highly intelligent, he's that too; no, I love Wendell because he has such great energy. I'm around him five minutes and I feel better. About anything. In the long years that we've known each other I have never had a bad Wendell moment, he's always got a positive vibe, even when his day hasn't been so great. That's really hard to find and I hope that he always has that going on for him. And for the record, he gives fabulous hugs too but that's between me and him....

I've come to believe that's the secret. Find something positive, something that works for you and hold it for a moment. Then let it go having enjoyed it for what it is, stop picking at your emotional or physical sores, they only get worse and then you hang on to them, as a badge of honour because it gives you an out. Instead of letting it go and moving on with your life. Because this is what you have, now. Like Charmayne who cooked me this really great lasagne this weekend. I've enjoyed every bit that I've had so far, she even made enough for me to freeze for later on. You have to allow people to love you in whatever way they choose to show you.

So instead of concentrating on all the bad. Stop, disconnect your mind and enjoy the now.

Rainy days and Mondays

It was Karen Carpenter I think who sang about rainy days and Mondays always making her feel sad. I suspect she had a lot of things on her mind making her sad. It is awful to think that in her world of plenty, she starved herself to death because she had some misguided sense of beauty. It's really frightening how many women are uncomfortable with their body image and make themselves miserable to live up to some impossible "ideal".

We deprive ourselves of enjoyment, we make ourselves ill all for what. Some f***** up barometer that has nothing to do with making women feel better about themselves but has everything to do with selling a product. Have you ever noticed cosmetic ads? Some "beauty" is touting that a lipstick or cover up that hides the little imperfections. Dammit, I'm old enough to have laugh lines around my eyes, I've earned the right!

People can only make you feel bad if you let them. So don't. My friend Shirley made me feel really good today. She hasn't seen me in nigh on twenty years but paid me a great compliment. Thanks Sweetie, you made my day! And for that I'm off with two gents to have drinks this afternoon....

Smiling ladies

My coffee is made "with love" most mornings by the great ladies at Rituals in St. James. Many days, my mornings start with an array of ever cheerful women who usually provide excellent service, delicious food and always a cheery wish for a good day to me. I am regular at a few morning food establishments and I always feel special in that they remember the way I like whatever it I get from them.

Whether it is Charlotte and Sandra outside Brooklyn Bar who know I like my pair of doubles with slight and nothing else. That's right, you can keep the cucumber, shadon beni and all that gunk. Doubles are meant to be sloppy, channa filled, not too runny with a small smatter of pepper, enough that the flavour of the curry is not overwhelmed by burning. Then there's Tara and the girls at Sweetness with their crisp, ready fried bakes filled to the brim with tomato choka or smoked herring, they too know exactly how much pepper gets added. They lament that they've had to increase their prices but the conversation is still free. As previously mentioned, the stream of Rituals barristas including Carol, Yvette, Adanna et al. They always enquire after my health if I miss a few days. Ditto the ladies at Frankie's.

Occasionally I am lured by delights bought for me by my colleagues including a particularly interesting corned beef bake tantilisingly dropped on my desk by the Slacker on morning and never a repeat. He of the mile high bake and saltfish. Now reading this you might think all I do at my desk is eat. Quite the contrary, many times it is this morning push that takes me through the entire day. I constantly get lectured by well meaning friends and relatives about eating cereal at home and that kind of thing but I realised long ago that if I didn't have these morning ladies that I would be too removed from the real world. These ladies keep me real and I welcome the chance to start the day with a smile and a kind word.

Too funny

Someone sent me one of those wretched forwards, some of it was truly funny. Thought I'd share a couple of the gems...

I've learnt that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.

I've learnt that it years to build trust, and it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.

I've learned that you can by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you'd better have a big willy or huge boobs.

I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, unless we are celebrities.

I've learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades, and there had better be a lot of money to take place its place!

Have you had your laugh today?