I was driving through the village today, on the way to Scunthorpe to get Betsy a new bank account set up for university, when she asked the question, “Mum if you hadn’t gone to university and chosen to live abroad do you think you would have always lived in Broughton or somewhere close by? Would you have lived at home?" My answer was “I doubt it” to which Betsy asked “Why not? Hmmm… good question. When I stop to think it doesn’t really make sense to not have stayed local. It seems that I’m a bit Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde! I love to Live Abroad, I love to be at home. It is same same but different!

My dad's had a bit of  time of it this last year with his health, so we've been vey grateful to have the NHS here in the UK to draw upon. I'm a huge advocate for nursing staff particulary and feel they are incredibly underpaid and undervalued by our government. We have had some amazing care and attention given to us so because of this I've been loathe to criticize the NHS.. thus far.... We've also had some pretty rubbish experiences though and every now and then it is very hard not to have a sense of humour crisis about some of the things that have happened to us. However, rather than just write a long (and it would be long) list of 'issues', instead I'll sum up in a couple of paragraphs or what I'd do if I ran the NHS!

Last night I had the most horrible dream. The type of dream that isn’t at all subtle and brings all your worries to the surface. It actually woke me up crying, which is really weird as I’m not much of a crier! I can’t say that I’m not prone to the odd tantrum and door slamming episode when I’m not getting my own way, but most of the time, I and the rest of my family have a more ‘British stiff upper lip, let’s get on with things the best we can’ approach to life.
 
Why we cry

I think when I do resort to tears it is more likely to be through frustration than anything else. They, whoever they are, say women at work must be professional and never cry, however it isn’t always possible to rein in emotions. I remember a couple of years ago feeling so frustrated that a very poorly colleague and friend of mine wasn’t getting a fair deal at work. Ironically it was only when angry tears leaked out that things started to happen to improve her situation. It seems tears can be powerful. Whilst I am opposed to pretty much everything Theresa May stands for, I still felt sorry for her as she struggled to contain her emotions as she stood outside Number 10 the other day. Tears also seem to be a trigger for sympathy and empathy.

I met a dear friend for lunch the other day. This particular friend has made something of a sport of ‘winding me up’. At least that’s what he thinks he is doing. Not so, I just like to humour him by pretending to be cross. (Well most of the time anyway!)

I do wonder how many of his ‘wind up’ comments are said solely to annoy me! If unintentional, the poor man probably spends half his life, when in my company, stepping on egg shells! He did confide to Saint Mick the other day that he is a bit unsure what he is allowed to say in front or to me for fear of being politically incorrect! No doubt he used a phrase like “politically correct nonsense!”