Versatile Blogger Award

Thanks to my good friend, Elizabeth Currie at Wayward Lady, I’ve been awarded the ‘Versatile Blogger Award’. It doesn’t come free though. First, I must nominate seven other bloggers to receive it. Hopefully, that’s the easy bit. The difficult bit is (cringe) I have to reveal seven previously unknown (interesting, embarrassing, intriguing etc) facts about myself. Well, I’ve always preferred to get difficult things out of the way as soon as possible (Does that count as one fact? No? OK), so here goes:

1. I was a 1960s Bee Gee Bopper and somewhere, I’ve even got the badge to prove it. Even more embarrassing is that I fancied Robin Gibb. I think I thought that since I didn’t stand a chance with either Barry or Maurice (and I did with Robin?) I’d go for the least good-looking one. Sorry, Robin. Still – he proved himself a lovely person and worthy of my devotion over the years!

2. I’ve always loved music (don’t say a word about the Bee Gees) and wanted to play an instrument. So far I’ve tried, and failed, with violin, guitar, piano and … yes, even the recorder. No matter what the instrument, by the time my brain had processed what chord I need and where on the frets, keys or apertures I need to place my fingers, the audience has left the room. And don’t suggest I try singing instead, everyone’s left before the end of my first note.

3. I’ve a secret ambition to garden. But I’ve just looked out of the window to describe my latest achievements and noticed the Box cutting I planted last summer is now a sickly shade of yellow.

4. I’d love to tell you I’m one of life’s popular party people. I’d love to tell you that, but like my Box plant, after 11pm I turn a sickly shade of yellow.

5. As my children will tell you, I’m a constant preener. Not of myself, of them. I can’t stop my fingers brushing their hair into place the second I set eyes on them.
My children are all in the twenties.

6. I once mistook Lewis Hamilton for a W.H. Smith salesman (Sue Moorcroft, novelist extraordinaire and Formula (number) One Fan will wince at this one). I went in to buy a letter rack and, getting thoroughly annoyed with the crowds of shoppers who seemed to have nothing better to do than take photos and stand around chatting, I pushed my way through, perused the letter racks (itching to slap the huge presence apparently stuck to my shoulder with W.H.Smith superglue), chose my rack and looked round for a till. Ah! A pleasant young man in a suit! I moved towards him and held the letter rack out. He smiled, a very nice smile, quite a cheeky grin in fact, but I noticed there was no till on the table by his side, so with a loud sigh, I pushed him aside (I’m getting really annoyed by now) and strode across an inexplicably empty space; the huge presence still stuck to my shoulder. I reached the next crowd, contained behind a rope barrier. I looked at the rope, somewhat puzzled, and the huge presence suddenly stepped forward, saying, ‘It’s the till you want is it?’ pulled the barrier aside and ushered me to a girl at a till, chin in hand with longing eyes lounging on the man in the suit by the table. The penny dropped. It was a book signing! ‘Who’s the author?’ I asked (being a writer I was a little embarrassed at not knowing). ‘Lewis Hamilton,’ she said. I cast her a blank look. ‘The racing driver?’ she said, ‘The one you just elbowed out of your way?’

7. Ok, so now you’ve all had a good laugh at some of my most secret things, I’ll reveal my last.
I’m a softie.
Last week my partner and I drove along the M4 past a sign for Wooton Bassett. I looked at the words ‘Wooton Bassett’, and I saw elderly men in uniform saluting. I saw teenagers in jeans standing reverently, I saw men and women, mothers and fathers with heads bowed, I saw pushchairs with babies in and ‘bikers’ in leathers standing respectfully. I saw soldiers making their last journey home in a sleek, black hearse. I heard silence.
And as our car rolled on down the motorway, I tried to hide the tears rolling down my cheeks.

And the nominees are (and this was more difficult than I’d imagined. I’m dreading offending great blogging friends and how do I chose just seven?):

• Effie Merryl at Ephemera Blog
• Mandy James at Mandy’s Musings
• Clare Kirkpatrick at On Writing
• Rebecca E Brown at My Little Notepad
• Alison Wells at Head Above Water
• Rebecca Bradley at Life in Clarity
• Rebecca Emin at Ramblings of a Rusty Writer

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5 Responses to Versatile Blogger Award

  1. suemoorcroft says:

    Great blog post, Debs! But what a waste of a perfectly good Lewis Hamilton! You ought to be ashamed.

  2. Maggie says:

    All wonderful revelations and all true!

    • Yes, Maggie, and you’ve known me long enough to know! In retrospect perhaps I should have put something in about our flat life in London in the 1970s? I was able to stay up till dawn without going yellow then – and so were you! And THEN there was the time … perhaps not, I’ll never stop! 😉

  3. Thanks for a very good laugh Debs! But also for the genuine depth of sentiment expressed for such as Wootton Basset. ‘Real life’ is, of course, made of such a spectrum.
    I relate to so many of these (I just had to google Lewis Hamilton!). But know you did the man’s ego a good long term service here!
    I once had to ask my daughter why this particular guy’s face kept appearing on all the Gillette razor adverts, to be met with a blank stare (& she’s used to me by now) and to be told ‘That’s David Beckham mum!’
    Perhaps we should sign up for music lessons together, as long as they’re not late evening classes; I, too, wilt after 10.30sh pm! As they say at all the best fiestas in Latin America ‘hasta las seis en la manana’ (until dawn). Nooooo…….!

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