Testing

Testing our new podcast channel

Classic vs Chick Lit

Last night I finally made time to watch Jane Austen – The Unseen Portrait, in which Dr Paula Byrne argued the case for a portrait of Jane Austen she’d acquired being genuine.

The real Jane Austen?

It was a fascinating detective story. I adore Jane Austen’s work but I must admit I know very little about her life.

However the portrait debate has whet my appetite to find out more.

Jane Austen was no fluffy writer. She was a formidable wordsmith with a sharp wit. For me this new portrait conjured up that image perfectly. I found the resemblance in the family portraits, especially the nose, striking.

It is A Truth Universally Acknowledged ….

that you’re never going to get agreement from every expert. However two of the three Austen scholars, Kathryn Sutherland of Oxford University and Claudia Johnson of Princeton University, interviewed for the BBC show believe it’s an actual depiction of the writer.

Pride and Prejudice

However Deirdre Le Faye was not persuaded. If she turns out to be wrong, I’ll feel sorry for the man who sold it at auction after her dismissal of the portrait as “imaginary”.

Unseen but Not Unheard

How sad that Jane Austen was not considered “worthy” of a portrait in her lifetime. Her father and brothers were. Can you remember them? No, me neither. How many other amazing women have been lost in history because they were not considered important enough because of their gender to be remembered. At least Jane Austen’s words were finally recognised for their genius and her legacy lives on through her much-loved books.

I for one am persuaded by the portrait. I’d love it to be genuine.

Childhood Explorers

Recently I’ve been enjoying the BBC2 series “All Roads Lead Home” which features the actor Alison Steadman, Sue Perkins and Steve Mangan exploring their childhood haunts using natural navigation skills taught by Tristan Gooley. (I’ll share more about these skills in a separate blog.)

Me On The Ferry Cross The Mersey Heading Towards Pier Head around 1958

I’m a huge fan of Alison. To me she epitomises all that’s great about an older woman. She’s lived her passion all her life, honed her craft magnificently and still remained authentic. Her journey was across North Wales to her home town of Liverpool. I knew the same haunts. We lived in North Wales but would travel to Chester or Liverpool most Saturdays. While my mother went shopping, my father would take me on the ferry and round his own haunts. In the programme Alison returns to the Everyman Theatre where she made her name.

In My Liverpool Home

I was fortunate enough to chat with Alison in March 2010 after a performance of Mam at the Nottingham Playhouse. I mentioned I’d been at university in Liverpool, recalling my times there in the late 1960s and early 70s and how I used to go to the Everyman on a regular basis, sometimes getting free tickets in the nearby Cambridge pub for Monday performances.

Me with the Lovely Alison Steadman - Photo thanks to Douglas MacDonald

I reminisced about plays I’d seen there. Alison asked me if I remembered a play by John McGrath entitled Soft or a Girl. She said it was a milestone for her. The title rang a bell, but I couldn’t recollect any details. Later I looked it up and saw it ran in 1971. A review reminded me of Ella, the main character played by Alison who sits brushing her hair at her dressing-table, yearning for a house on the Wirral. Immediately I remembered the scene clearly. I’d always thought I’d first become aware of Alison Steadman after Abigail’s Party on TV, but my first experience of her work was actually this live performance several years earlier.

Alison has written: “The Everyman was … one of the most important and happiest times. It was the first time I really experienced ‘political theatre’ and how it could help and change, or at least make an audience think again and have a great night out as well. Soft or a Girl will always stand out in my mind.”

I’m honoured to have been in a small way part of those times. I’ve always felt a resonance with Alison Steadman. I’ve now discovered we both had special memories of North Wales and Liverpool too.

Silver Separations on the Increase

What a surprise! The Over-60s made the front page of the Daily Mail last Saturday. It seems there’s a rising number of so-called “silver separations”. According to the Office for National Statistics, while the divorce rate is falling steadily among all other age groups, there’s been a rise of 4% in the over-60s group in the two years to 2009. 

Over 60s Solo Revellers - Courtesy of Just You Holidays

Dr Ros Altmann, director-general of the over-50s group Saga, sees it as more proof that life’s changing for this age group being the start of a new phase of life, not its impending end as people in the past were often led to expect. “They are not old!” I heartily endorse that. My 60+ friends and I are certainly enjoying life to the full. There’s less angst, less need to impress and more just being who you are.

According to the report we are witnessing a major social revolution, with older generations redefining their life, including re-evaluating relationships and sometimes deciding to start again. It’s never too late to start a new life.

“Every Silver Lining has a Cloud” – Mary Kay Ash

7,063 men and 3,977 women aged 61 or over – 11,040 in total – divorced in 2007. The number had risen to 11,507 by 2009. The higher number of men getting divorced in that age group getting divorced reflects the fact husbands are usually older than their wives.

That’s true of my ex-husband and me. We were 26 and 23 respectively when we married in April 1975. We divorced amicably after over 30 years together. I wonder whether friendly splits are more likely as you get older.

Golden Age Oldies

For me I don’t feel old so why would I act it? I love the freedom and independence. Life’s fun and full of possibilities. I wish you the same.

Loss

These words in the Queen’s message at the 9/11 remembrance service for 250 missing UK citizens on 21 September 2001 have popularised this heart-connecting sentiment.

Recently I’ve had occasion to reflect on this phrase as I had my old dog, Sammy, put to sleep on 8 November. (I paid tribute to him in A Good Dog Never Dies.) We had a wonderful life together.

Me with Sammy and Bran in March 2010 thanks to Douglas MacDonald

He went on walks till a few days before we both decided it was time for him to pass over, probably aged 17. I called the vet to put Sammy to sleep at home. It was a peaceful end for my loyal companion of nearly 14 years. As my ex-husband commented, Sammy was totally devoted to me from the start. The feeling was mutual. He was very special to me. Although I miss him, I can picture him in spirit frolicking along on walks with me and my remaining dog, Bran.

Animal Companions

However I wasn’t expecting Bran’s reaction to Sammy’s death. He’s been rather subdued, out of sorts and slightly depressed. Of all the 7 dogs and 3 cats I’ve had in the last 36 years, Bran is the only one to have reacted in this way.

Sammy and Bran at Dovedale March 2010. Captured brilliantly by Douglas MacDonald.

With every other pet it’s as if the animal who died never existed. It’s not seemed callous, it’s just the death seems irrelevant somehow. So I’ve been somewhat surprised by Bran’s demeanour, especially as they haven’t really played together for a while. I guess Sammy’s just always been there with him for 5 years.

So I’m just being gentle with him, giving him time and hugs. He’s got company for a few days while I dog-sit for my sister’s young Lhasa Apso, Domino. They’ve been best mates for 12 months so I’m hoping he can help Bran come to terms with Sammy’s death.

What are your experiences with your pets? Have they grieved or carried on as if nothing’s happened?

Walk and Talk

While strolling by the River Dee in Llangollen yesterday with my dog, Bran, I encountered the delightful Bernadetta Henry, known as Nan, and her Bichon Frise dog, Boris. Both dogs were sniffing the same post so she and I chatted while we indulged them. Bernadetta told me Boris was her Hearing Dog as she was profoundly deaf.

Bernadetta Henry (Nan) and Boris - courtesy of Daily Post

This young 88 year old needed a new means of coping with her deafness after her husband died 7 years ago. The solution appeared to be the Hearing Dogs scheme. Anxious to be accepted, during her interview she was disappointed to admit to no prior experience of Bichon Frises. Fortunately her daughter piped up that she’d rescued Pyrenean Mountain Dogs for 28 years – in fact sometimes 15 at a time. The venture began with an advert wanting someone to run a rescue centre for the breed. She said to her husband, “We’ve got lots of space. Why don’t we put ourselves forward?” The interviewer smiled, “I think we’ve found a home for Boris.” Apparently he was rather feisty and liked to do things his own way so he needed an experienced owner. So instead of waiting three and a half years, Bernadetta had Boris very promptly. Dog World reports how he saves Bernadette’s life daily.

Dog Days

She and I reminisced about the dogs we’d loved. I’d had my beloved Sammy put to sleep 3 days earlier at the age of 17. Bernadetta had rescued a Pyrenean Mountain Dog from death’s door, nursed her back to health, till she died at 22 years old – still a breed record.

Bernadetta only gave up the rescue 4 years ago when she had a stroke. She was told by doctors she’d never have any movement again. She set out to prove them wrong. She now has movement in her upper body and gets round in her motorised wheelchair. A true inspiration!

Century Celebrations

What lies ahead? Well, Bernadetta plans to fly the length of Wales for her 100th birthday. I asked why not on her 90th to which she replied she intended to live past 100 so it gave her something special to look forward to. For 101 she mused it might be a flight over the Lake District.

What a fabulous woman. I’ll be looking out for her on my next visit. I can’t wait to hear more stories.

My old dog, Sammy, is definitely in his twilight years. I’ll have had him 14 years in January and he was a young dog then, not a puppy. So he could easily be 15 years +. When I first got him, I wanted to call him Spook. He was white, quick as a flash, now you see him, now you don’t. However I was outvoted by the family and he became Sam, or Sammy. He’s always been very much my dog. I recall bringing him to meet my other two dogs, Scruffy and Bruin.

Sammy Bringing Up The Rear As Usual

To ease him in gently I took them for a run on a neutral field along the road. I remember him racing round, then coming back and looking up at me as if to say, “You’ll do.”

Since then he’s been a constant companion, a wonderful friend. His mission in life, aside from looking out for me, has been to say hello to every dog he meets. They sense he’s no threat as he trots up to them, tail wagging.

Now he’s slowing down noticeably. He still gets excited about going out for walks. They just take twice as long to complete. People have got to know him, ambling a few yards behind me and Bran. (He sulks when he’s on the lead and goes even slower.)

My Sammy mission is to look after him all I can, to make his final days, weeks, months as easy and pleasant as can be. He has a whisked up free range egg every morning and though I don’t eat meat, I buy him sausages, bacon, chicken and his favourite ham. His legs have started to go wobbly and he drags along his paws. I’ve decided from now on to take him in the car up to his favourite woods every day where he can wander at his own pace, sniffing at will and enjoying the soft ground. It also means Bran can still run about and get plenty of exercise.

I have the occasional weep as I walk along. I’m so pleased he’s moved with me into my new home as I believe it’ll make it easier for us to stay connected once he passes through the veil into the spirit realm.

So on this All Hallows Eve when we remember our ancestors and the seen and the unseen worlds intertwine, I look back with deep appreciation on his life and that of my other dear animal companions.

I happened across this short poem today which comforts me.

“A good dog never dies. He always stays. He walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter’s drawing near. His head is within our hand in his old way.”

(Mary Carolyn Davies)

It sums up my thoughts perfectly. I know he’ll always be with me.

Women’s Hidden Worth

Photo courtesy of Target Ovarian Cancer

Thanks to Karen Kiely who co-produced my website for sending me this quote from the multi-talented Sandi Toksvig.

“When I was a student at Cambridge I remember an anthropology professor holding up a picture of a bone with 28 incisions carved in it. “This is often considered to be man’s first attempt at a calendar” she explained. She paused as we dutifully wrote this down. ‘My question to you is this – what man needs to mark 28 days? I would suggest to you that this is woman’s first attempt at a calendar.’

It was a moment that changed my life. In that second I stopped to question almost everything I had been taught about the past. How often had I overlooked women’s contributions?”

Time To Be Visible

How often have we all overlooked women’s contributions? I know I have. Indeed sometimes my own.

No longer. I’m now positively seeking out stories of women’s achievements.

Will you help me in sharing stories – your own and other women you admire?

It’s time to come out of hiding!