This Week

This Week has been quite an interesting week.  I don’t mean to use the word ‘interesting’ as saying a ‘bored’ week but a ‘good’ week.  I have met some many strangers this week.  I have had a week off from work.  So I guess you can call it a week of vacation.  A holiday week.  A thought crossed my mind.  A smile that you give to a person like love.  Giving someone a bit of love to brighten their day.

A smile is what makes people smile at you.  What makes people approachable.  This what makes strangers talk to one and another.  This is probably the way people fall in love.  Like that old saying ‘fell in love when I first saw you’.  How cheesy.  I think I’m going to puke.

The smile is the most important thing ever.  I’m probably not making any sense as I am writing, blogging at 03:53am, where I should be fast asleep.  But my thoughts keep talking, buzzing in my mind and won’t let me sleep.  The only way I can, is to release a thought into a blog.  Write it down, in scribbles, and then look back realising that it does not make sense because I cannot read my own handwriting.  It becomes a writer’s block.

So, the smile.  🙂 Is the reason why strangers talk to each other.  Am I correct?  I believe so.  This week I have met many people.  My sister thinks I talk too much and waste my time talking to people whom I don’t know.  She is probably correct.  I guess this is because of all the years I have spent working in retail.  A skill to have, having a great rapport with people.  I just happen to click with people.  To me, it is all about the journey of a person.  For example, a person gets up one morning and goes to work, goes shopping, walks or drives home, spends time with family and then goes to sleep.  The journey is where the person spends most of their time.  Let me try and explain this better.  A customer enters a shop, buys a product.  They spend most of the time looking for the product.  Their moods will change depending on the people they meet on the way.  When that person reaches the till or checkout, if they receive bad service, their day will end badly.  If they receive good service, their day, theoretically will end good.  Hopefully, you see the picture which I am trying to paint with these set of no descriptive words. (I used to be once a good fiction writer.  This I hope to get back to when I have time.)

A smile cheers people up.  It is very attractive in human sapian view. (Apologies, if I can’t spell.  I haven’t slept a wink yet. Lol, meaning laugh out loud not lots of love.)  If a baboon smiled at you, it wasn’t because they are trying to be friendly.  It normally, means a form of aggression, because they are baring their teeth and so on.  So, in the animal kingdom, things mean different things.  (Ugh, I’m getting bored of the word ‘things’..)

So, back to what I am trying to write about.  Smiles.  I’m the type of person who speaks to everyone and anyone.  Even if I don’t know them.  Why that is, I don’t really know.  I met a man in the park, because his son was playing with my nephew.  My nephew is a bit like me, speaks to any child, will ask them their name and he hasn’t even started school yet.  From a parent view, you’re probably thinking “Don’t speak to strangers”, I agree.  It’s great seeing, his bubbly character with other children.  I met Adam, we had a nice conversation.  We smiled and shook hands and gave our names.  A nice formal greeting.  Yesterday, I was speaking to the Spec Savers assistant about barbeques and the difference between lamb meat and sheep meat, which is pretty much the same.  His service was brilliant.  Again, a smile started off the conversation.  A little smile can get you far sometimes.  There’s a saying and I believe too, when you’re on the phone and you answer with a smile, the recipient can normally tell and get some sort of vibe, and it spreads happy vibes.  Let’s sleep on that thought.  Good night!


You are Enough

Today after swimming for forty minutes, I bumped into a school class mate.  I knew I recognised her and called out her name.  She was getting into her big 8 seater, turned around and recognised me straight away.  We started talking and giving a brief catch up about our lives.

It was just the way she said that she’s a single mother of four children.  To me, that is pretty impressive.  Why do people always put themselves down?  Why aren’t we ever happy, with what we have?  Appreciate.  You are enough.  Why do we compare ourselves to others?  Everyone experiences different things, and therefore behave differently.

Or, maybe like something I read on Instagram, it said “This may piss you off: You are where you deserve to be in life.”

I don’t know.  Do you agree with this?

And I’m feeling good! Da dah! da Dah! ….

Yes, feeling good indeed!  I have just completed writing up my column and have sent it to my editor.  I love writing.  Especially, when you get the chance to do some real journalism.  Get out there and write from first hand.  It’s such a thrilling experience.

The best part I feel about writing, blogging and scoping big dreams, is the positivity that comes out from all of this.

See above video link, to see the music that is playing in my mind!

I love been able to write about community news.  You’d be surprised by the amount of stories I get to write about.  I have had people tell me, “how boring”, but you know what, IT REALLY IS NOT!  It’s really fun.

You have to start somewhere.  🙂  Have a great day all!

This is bugging me for ages.. Why? Whip up hysteria?

On May 1, 2014, there was an article in the Daily Mail about a fast food retailer replacing their meat (ham) for halal meat.  I thought this was great and posted it as a status.  Unfortunately, not all think the same as I.  The amount of abuse I received was horrendous.  Then in today’s (Wednesday, May 7) newspaper The Sun had on it’s front page.  It just made me really angry.  Why whip up hysteria?  It is worrying about what the world is coming to.   

Here is a link:

Everyone are entitled to their own opinions and beliefs.  That is what makes the world so interesting.  It is an option.  You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.  Retailers have to support their customers needs.  If there is a demand for it.  It is fine.  

One of the comments, I received was about ‘why was a minority group force anyone change a menu’ – they weren’t forced.  It is a business approach.  A business is focusing on their demand of the majority of their customers. When you’re at school, college, Uni they tell you express yourself, free will, speak. I’m going off the point now, in the early twenty century, minority overpowered the majority. It was the suffragettes for women to vote. How is anything minority a bad thing? If it wasn’t for the suffragettes, we wouldn’t be able to vote today.

I guess, this is a subject, you try and avoid when blogging about.  As it brings up religion and fear.  This whole world is made of some many different people, from different cultures.  If we want to live in peace, we have to respect others and adapt to our area.  


I’m currently in the middle of writing my column about community news.  I rang my sister about a 100 years celebration of Brownies, and told her you have to attend.  As it was asking for ex-brownie members and ex-brownie leaders.  My sister was not interested, as she is now busy with her personal family life and unfortunately has no time.  I was excited, writing about it.  It made me think about my childhood.  I wanted to join the ‘Brownies’ group, as it was seen as ‘cool’ and ‘intelligent’.  Something good and you get to sew on badges, when you do something good.  It makes you think though.  Childhood groups.  They might have been so important to you then.  Not now.    

When religion is actually taken seriously..


Thursday, March 27 was my last shift at work.  I am now officially off for nine days before I go back to work.  Hooray.  I hear you say.  Yes.  (I’m nodding.)  But I won’t be working, catching up on domestic duties, end of year accounts, and writing my column.  Anyway, on my Thursday shift I was pretty happy, it was a good shift, massively busy, crazy long queues on the checkouts.  Between 5pm and 7pm, I was on a checkout serving customers.  Main thing is, I managed to get all my jobs done.  My duty manager on shift was checking the tills (which I normally do, in this case, she was learning something new.)  

Anyway before I head off and change the subject, it was nearly ten o’clock in the evening, store closes at this time.  I had delegated jobs to my team, making sure everyone is doing the job right.  One of my colleagues, Ryan, asked if he could quickly buy something.  Sure, I said to him.  After I had back stocked all the of big pop from the warehouse, he happily came up to me and told me, he had won £100 on a scratchcard.  Everyone were telling him, he’s got to share his payout.  There was six of us on shift, so they were all telling him: £10 each please, and the rest he could keep.  Ryan said that he should give me some of the money, as it for me, that he bought it and won that large amount of cash.  I was very pleased for him and I told him, technically you should give me half as it’s my birthday.  We laughed, nah.  No thanks, I told him.  I was just really pleased he won something and told him to treat himself to something nice.  That just shows that scratchcards (that we sell in store) actually work and you can win good amounts, not just the measly £1 or £2.  

I quickly, headed to the kiosk and bought a box of celebrations chocolate.  When I was paying for it, my colleague Ryan, queried me, telling me to buy a scratchcard.  I said, no, I’m not very lucky.  The colleague, Matt, who was serving me asked me “Isn’t it against your religion to buy scratch cards?”  Yes, it is.  Everyone does it.  It’s not like I am an addicted gambler.  People do a lot worse, for example, drinking and smoking.

This thought stayed with me, when I got home.  Religion always crashes into everything.  When do people take their religion seriously?  I’m not practicing mine however I do believe in God and there are parts in my religion which I take very seriously.  I love being charitable.  This week I have sponsored money to Epilepsy Action, Cancer Research and Parkinsons Society.  I am strict with myself, when it comes to drinking alcohol and smoking.  I have never touched the stuff.  If this wasn’t a religious principle, I think I would have chosen this any way.  I always dress modestly.  Never had a relationship with the opposite gender before marriage.  These things, I have taken very seriously.  

Again, I am heading off into another direction.  So, yes, when do people take their religion seriously?  Here is my list:  

1. Religion is only important to people, when there is a DEATH.  Everyone want a place in heaven.  Make sure you have the ‘correct’ ceremony. 

2.  When you’re family starts growing – BABIES – is another issue.  Naturally conceived, is fine.  As long as the baby is made in the bonds of marriage.  Some religion states, that IVF is wrong.  It is viewed as ADULTERY.  It has to be the husband and wife body parts or not at all.  So, what happens, if the female cannot produce eggs or male has a low sperm amount?  I guess, it depends on the person and how strongly religious they are.  Abortion – again, another area, where religion comes in.  Ending a life.  For or against.

3.  ADULTERY  – having any forms of relationships before marriage or whilst in a marriage.  With anyone, both genders.  male and female.  Male and Male, female and female.

4. GETTING MARRIED – when two people decide to get married, everyone are happy.  However, if they are coming from two different backgrounds, it can cause stress.

5.  GAMBLING, ALCOHOL, SMOKING – I put these in, due to that fact, these things are down to the person.  Some of us, us bought up with the concept, this is BAD.  Yet, people do these all the time.  I’m fine selling the stuff to people.  It is just worrying, when people get aggressive and violent.  As it has an effect on their health.  

If I have missed anything else, please comment.  Everyone are entitled to an opinion.  That is what makes life so interesting.    


Dirty minded computer

I was looking for another word whilst typing my column.  Trying to rearrange a sentence that I am bored or repeatedly writing.  This word is ‘invite’.  As I re write the sentence and search for another word for ‘come’.  I clicked the button for thesaurus and guess what my computer came up with.  Another word for ‘come’ it said ‘semen’.  Not the type of word I was looking for.  Tut, tut..

Realtalewryter writes home

My earliest memory of my first house was in a town called Raunds.  It was a semi-detached house with a drive way for my dad’s car.  If you faced it from the opposite of the road, you would see on the ground (left side) there was a patch of grass, with a tiny white fence made out of metal, painted white.  Directly under the window, a patch of plants, various flowers growing.  On the right was the driveway.  The front door was wooden and bright red.  A golden number 29.  Three big windows at the front of the house.  At the end of the drive way was a tall wooden gate that was locked, it lead to the back garden.  I remember getting a piece of wood stuck in my palm from pushing the gate.  A splinter.  My mum had to fetch a safety pin to take it out.  I remember the pain.  

Most of the time, the house was quiet, as my big sisters all went to school.  My dad would work all day and night.  I would never see him.  I remember being scared of him.  It was because I didn’t know who he was.  I remember I used to cry and slam my hands in the window.  I watch my sisters leave for school, one by one, with their packed lunches and combed black hair into silky tight pony tails.  My eldest sister attended the high school, and the three between me and the eldest attended the junior school.  I wasn’t old enough to start school yet.  

I don’t remember the smells.  It’s all very visual.  When you entered the house, you would end up in the hallway.  Directly infront of your the hallway would divide into two, on the immediately left was a door that led to the living room, directly in front, was a corridor that led into the kitchen, then on the right was the stairway, that led upstairs to the bathroom and three bedrooms.  I remember sleeping in a cot, it was a big cot, in my parents bedroom.  Then the day arrived where I got my single bed, which was right next to my parents double sized bed.  Shortly, there after, we moved to the town, that I have grown up and settled, and now still there as a married woman.  

I still dream about this home.  It was my first home and ideal.  When I write fiction, I always base my stories on this first house. 



Sleep Talking

I find when I am stressed out, I tend to sleep talk.  In my case, it’s sleep swearing.  But not just in English language, it also comes out in other languages.  I am mutli-lingual you see.  I’m not the type of person who uses bad language frequently.  I never swear, it’s just not me.  Unless, I am really angry.  Is there anyone out there, who has the similar affect?  



I was typing at my laptop as my sister walked into my room and told me she met a girl at work.  My sister also works in a retail store, like I do.  My sister works on the checkouts in the morning in a convenience store, while I work in the superstore.  Same company, different branches.  My sister said to me, the girl, obviously not a girl no more, a grown women like myself, asked her if My sister was my sister.  So it was ” Are you XXX sister?”  XXX means my name.  My sister looked up at the woman she was serving, my sister told me she looked really familiar, like as if she has seen her somewhere.  The answer, my sister gave her was ‘Yes, she works at the big store.’  The girl, my sister was serving told my sister, “I’m Tracey, I went to school with your sister.”

When my sister told me her name.  I was so excited.  Tracey is a friend who I have lost contact with, and I have been trying to find her.  What is she doing in my home town?  I wondered.  I asked my sister, what was she wearing?  Did she have a wedding ring on her finger?  How does she look like now?  Blonde?  red haired?  brunette?  What name was on her debit or credit card when she paid?  What did she buy?  My sister’s reply was she couldn’t ask her any questions as she was busy and couldn’t remember.  The last thing Tracey said to my sister was “What a small world.”  

I guess I just got very excited when my sister told me.  I began searching old school photographs on facebook, which I found and showed to my sister and she said she looks the same.  Similar body built like myself.  Not as tall as me.  Shocking, when we were at school she was always taller than me.  Tracey was the ‘A star’ student, very competitive if I got a better grade than her on a psychology essay or exam result.  She was very intelligent.  She loved horses and played a violin.  Artistic like myself.  She went to university in London to become a vet or a brain surgeon.  We kept in contact when we both finished our ‘a levels.’  We lost contact when she was in first year at Uni, and after I had resigned my job in the bank industry.  That was pretty much the last I saw of her.  I did write, but she stopped responding.  A year ago, I wrote a letter to the house which her parents owned in Stanwick.  I wrote in it, if she still lived there to contact me and get in touch.  There was no reply.