I would like to take the opportunity to apologise for any disruption to relationships between WibParents and their Offspring I may have caused over the last two days. Any inadvertant distress resutant from my actions is sorely regretted and utterly out of character . . . well, the first bit is kinda true! For the benefit of other WibFolk, I will confess my misdemeanours as follows.
Husband and myself were graced with the wonderous presence of Tractor Girl this week-end. We met in Cardiff and enjoyed a most convivial meal. Whilst journeying back home on the train, TG proved that her name really comes from her abiltity to produce a noise remarkably like a tractor engine whilst laughing. Her state of hysterics was not helped by my pointing this out, though it did seem to cause some amusement to the bloke in the opposite seat. Therefore. this was a bad time for said TG to receive a phone call from her teenage daughter. A phone call where it was necessary for her to sound all responsible and grown up. It was not MY fault that she had to stifle her giggles whislt trying to make an important point to said teenager. Well, perhaps it was, a bit. Sorry!
After having bid farewell to TG on Saturday morning, we were blessed by the arrival of The Family Smudgie, with whom we enjoyed a cafe lunch in Pontypool. It was a predictably fun and homourous affair, only marred by the provision of slightly yukky brown sauce for my chips. The attempt to rectify this by switching to red sauce was a BIG mistake, this stuff turned out to be barely edible! Me ingenious attempt at a solution was to mix the two. The result was an edible sauce, but it produced and unfortunate side effect – a new habit learned by Smudgelet, much to the dismay of Smudgie. Any attempt by Husband to head off the further development of this bad habit by pointing out that HP fruity sauce amounts to the same thing is doomed to failure, I fear. Smudgie, I am truly sorry!
Perhaps WibParents should be advised to keep their children out of my vicinity from this point on, or alternatively to steer clear of me completely themeselves. I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that I am the archetypal Mad Aunt. This is not a problem for me, as it is surely the job of the Mad Aunt to enjoy being slightly rebellious. However, those who have learned through the process of parenthood that there are times when it is necessary to suppress childish tendencies may well suffer from my apparant lack of willingness to do likewise.
Is that terribly wrong of me?
Have been musing on the nature of identity and how we express ourselves, or can be perceived to be doing so. Ness was right in saying that the pink rant was a bit of a ‘hobby horse’, but it has made me ask myself why using a pink diary would be anathema to me. I have come to the conclusion that it is for the same reason that I feel that my current car says nothing about me.
First, the diary. I know myself to be very non-girly. Rightly or wrongly, I find some expressions of ‘girliness’ to be a little distasteful, pink as a fashion statement for grown women being one of them. So, I feel that producing my very pink diary in a work situation would send out the message that I was girly, and girly enough to be proud to make a statement about it by my choice of diary. In my world, this could cause value judgements to be made about me that would be incorrect.
Then there is the car. I own a large, swish-looking cream Rover. The kind of car I would associate with an upper-middle class working mum. This I am not. I have not issue with the fact that I am not, I am just not. In fact, I own this car ‘cos:-
a) I needed one quickly when my green Hyundai packed in, and it was available
b) It was in my price range
c) It is has a big enough boot for allotment tools and the like
d) It has air-con (summer ’06 as a floating-support-worker in my Hyundai oven was unbearable at times)
e) It has electric windows (the driver’s window on Hyundai was a shoulder breaker!)
f) It should be easy to source replacement parts for it
So, all very pragmatic. However, people have said to me that it is a nice, posh car. Personally, I feel that a grubby, battered but faithful old workhorse of a car would be more suited to me.
So, what conclusion can I draw from all this? Well, evidently I should paint my diary matt black and change my car. Alternatively, I should learn to care much less about what people may (or may not) think about me, based on my choice of stationery, transport and the like!
Kate Muir’s regular column in the Times magazine today featured the following key quote,
"My daughter is a member of the army of Unpink, which in girlworld is tantamount to joining the Undead."
Dithclaimer: The opinions stated here are purely those of the BlogWriter and not of the Wibsite, or of the female population, in general.*
*They are, however, opinions shared by more of the female population than current media advertising, marketing and accepted stereotypes would have us believe (or want us to?)
I suggest that lovers of the colour pink should not read on. You may be inordiantely upset by the following rant.
For those who do not know, I am far from ‘girly’. I had a pram for a while as a kid, which I used to push my Kermit the Frog puppet in on the few times that I used it. Warped? Perhaps. The thing is, I find pink hard enough to accept on wee kiddies, let alone associated with grown women. Imagine how overjoyed I was when the team at work (all female) were issued with shocking pink diaries for next year! Ack! I get on well enough with the admin lass to jokingly challenge her about this. She said it was about ‘girl power’ (since when do I need the help of pink to be powerful?) so I asked her if she had ordered powder blue diaries for the guys. She replied that she had. I am not entirely sure that I believe her, but the idea of equal-opps-irritating-diaries somehow makes this easier to take. Rather oddly, my diary is beginning to grow on me – a bit like a fungus!
Other pink thoughts involve pink power-tools. One word – WHY? Seriously, am I alone in being insulted by this concept? Surely, if a woman is free enough from gender stereotypes to be happy to wield an electric drill, then is she really going to be worried about it being a nice, functional colour like black or grey? Me, I do not trust myself with the things (being pretty ham-fisted, not cos I is a woman!) but, if I were to want to buy one, IT WOULD NOT BE PASTEL PINK!
To quote a friend of mine, " I do not do PINK!"
Am off now to stare at something refreshingly deep purple or rich green…
Has it really got to the 13th Oct before I have noticed that Sept has been sitting there, unarchived?
Has it really been the case that my head ihas been so devoid of anything marginally interesting for this long?
Has it really been so full of offline stuff in the Life of Dith that I have not wibbed very much at all?
It would appear so.