Author: Lesley Polley

The different stages of my life have been fun and challenging in equal measure! But I have appreciated and learned a great deal from each one. My background is in law where clarity of meaning and purpose both written and orally expressed were vital. I then moved into the world of politics, becoming Borough Councillor whilst at the same time running the Constituency Office of the Rt Hon. Ann Widdecombe for many years. Here too, it was essential to demonstrate high standards of English but, perhaps more particularly, find exactly the right level of sensitivity and nuance in press announcements, correspondence, reports and the like. During the twelve years I then spent in Burgundy, France teaching English to both adults and children, my writing skills became anecdotal and humorous and that is now reflected in the Life Story Books it has been my absolute pleasure to have produced for people over the last few years. My skill is to ensure that the character, intonation and the ‘voice’ of the person shines through on every page of their special book. It is not my book – it’s yours!
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Autobiography

I’m chasing down those dead thoughts like leaves in autumn,

Hoping they will reveal again the colour we bought them

For when we see that gold, though brilliant now,

Is already fading to brown.

I’m hoping that these old memories

Are not sepia as the photos

But are going to become clear and green

And fresh as the daisies

That sprinkled the lawn with delight

When I was seven or eight

And mourned when the lawn was mown.

The precious flowers had their heads chopped off

Like Mary Stuart or Sir Walter Raleigh

Who were beautiful, but not wanted.

There, you see, I have done it,

Another memory returns – how vivid!

Pink cherry blossom, bespeckling the grass

Pleased my child’s eye so much.

Are these worth remembering, writing down?

Or is it best to forget

And let

The present day world believe that the past was always worse?

And yet,

I know the lies and the spin.

Perhaps my corner of life is worth recollecting

And telling people of before it all falls away

From my tree like autumn leaves.

Jacqueline Mulhallen

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Here’s the thing…

Here’s the thing about looking at everyone else and wishing you were them because it looks like they’ve got it better than you…

1. Not everything and everyone is what they seem – especially on social media.
2. If they really are as fabulous as they appear, then I can guarantee they got there by working harder than everyone else and becoming the best version of themselves.
3. If you want that for yourself, you are going to have to take the hard road and do exactly the same.
  • Be inspired by fantastic people, use them as the evidence of what can be achieved but don’t spend too long there, step away from your device and go and get yourself sorted!
  • Find the things that light you up from the inside
  • Help others as much as you can
  • Make no excuses
  • Do whatever it takes till you get where you know you should be
  • While your doing all this – just be you!!!
  • Get to know yourself better and learn to love yourself a lot more

You can only ever be you so find the very best version of you and share that awesome person with everyone 💕

Mandy Breen 6 February 2022

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More Tanners and Bobs by Anon

My oh my, every word rings a bell, not only ‘jumpers for goalposts’ but other things as well.
Throwing sticks into trees, those conkers WILL fall, bikes with no brakes, a fixed wheel was all, ‘cowhorn’ handlebars, no mudguards at all.


Throwing stones at each other, health and safety unknown, no hard hat playing cricket, plastic ‘box’ for your manhood but no case for your phone. Phones were in boxes that stood on the street, bright red, firmly they’d stand, no phone in your pocket, that was just for your hand.


No TV at home, that was a luxury for the others, Saturday morning pictures with a shilling from our Mother’s. Sixpence to get in, sixpence to spend, hours in the sweet shop, the choices? No end. Blackjacks, fruit salad, sherbet fountain, gob stopper, maybe a jubbly? or maybe a ‘whoppa’?


A teatime, a bedtime, no ‘raking the streets’, food that was ‘good for you’ with very few treats.


School uniform, short trousers, cap, satchel, a tie. Darned holes in your socks, leaky pens, that awful blue dye. Blackboard dusters, ammunition for ‘Sir’, It came your way if his wrath you’d incur. The cane, the slipper, or the flat of his hand, no redress for violence, parents didn’t understand. “You must have deserved it, they don’t punish you for nought” “you’re not there to have fun, you’re there to be taught”.


Well taught I was, and taught well may I say, It gave me the values I hold to this day.
Respect for those wiser, consideration of others, role models to emulate, love for our Mothers.


At the time there were no grudges, it was just part of life, we had FUN without telly, or computers, no strife. Modern kids miss out on the lessons we learned, they expect all to be given, nothing is earned.

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Tanners and Bobs by David Wood

Back in the days of tanners and bobs, when Mothers had patience and Fathers had jobs. When football team families wore hand me down shoes, and T.V. gave only two channels to choose.

Back in the days of three penny bits, when schools employed nurses to search for your nits. When snowballs were harmless; ice slides were permitted and all of your jumpers were warm and hand knitted. Back in the days of hot ginger beers, when children remained so for more than six years. When children respected what older folks said, and pot was a thing you kept under your bed. Back in the days of Listen with Mother, when neighbours were friendly and talked to each other.

When cars were so rare you could play in the street. When Doctors made house calls; Police walked the beat. Back in the days of Milligan’s Goons, when butter was butter and songs all had tunes. It was dumplings for dinner and trifle for tea, and your annual break was a day by the sea. Back in the days of Dixon’s Dock Green, Crackerjack pens and Lyons ice cream.

When children could freely wear National Health glasses, and teachers all stood at the FRONT of their classes. Back in the days of rocking and reeling, when mobiles were things that you hung from the ceiling. When woodwork and pottery got taught in schools, and everyone dreamed of a win on the pools. Back in the days when I was a lad, I can’t help but smile for the fun that I had. Hopscotch and roller skates; snowballs to lob. Back in the days of tanners and bobs.

David Wood

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Translation Service

Translation Service

French to English/English to French translations
Carried out by certified Translator working in conjunction with French Counterpart
A very personal and efficient service.
Rates upon application.
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Now, that sounds interesting!!

For Girls Who Are “Too Much”: The True Story of Althea Gibson

by Megan Reid

‘As a child, I was often told I was “too much”: too opinionated, too headstrong, too tall, too skinny, too black, too energetic to fit in. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been fascinated by the stories of girls and women who were also told that their interests and goals made them “too much” for the society they lived in. My idols were Janet Reno, Michelle Kwan, and Dominique Dawes (not to mention Anne of Green Gables and Meg Murry)—but I wish I’d known Althea Gibson’s story…..’