Board but not bored

 

I'm surprised and delighted by the resurgence of the humble board game. I was brought up playing Snakes & Ladders and Ludo, Dizzy Bugs, Mousetrap and Scrabble. My children were initiated into the ways of the Draughts board long before they could ride a bike, and even now on family occasions we will gather around the dining table for competitive games and a little gentle bickering over the rules.

Today's rash of games is different from those I remember from 'the old days'. The look and feel of them is as much a part of the experience as the actual playing - check out Azul, for instance, which is a strategy game we're playing obsessively at the moment. It involves laying tiles that, to my mind, look like Spangles. Remember them? We also turn to Catan, Seven Wonders and Colt Express, the latter of which comes with a cute train on which Wild West characters are moved in search of booty. Phoney cowboy accents have become obligatory when we play this.

We do still dig into the cupboard for some old favourites. However, the one pictured is the worst of all possible worlds; I mean, Risk is bad enough - it can maunder on for hours - but Lord of the Rings Risk means I have to wrap my head around the intricacies of Helm's Deep and Dol Guldur. Good grief.

I did suggest we got rid of this one, but was met with howls of protest from the rest of the Thorley clan. We'll see.

Family Favourites

'With a Song In My Heart'

I'm showing my age a bit here, but does anyone else remember (or remember their parents telling them about) Two-Way Family Favourites on the radio? Hosted by Jean Metcalfe and Cliff Michelmore (pictured), it was a cheesy Sunday morning show through which families on opposite sides of the world could send greetings and a tune to one another via the BBC. All very worthy! In our house, we used to call it 'The Yorkshire Pudding Show', because Mum would be preparing the Sunday roast while it was on. Ah, those were the days.

Last weekend I was up in the Staffordshire hills at a family do to mark the Golden Wedding of the son (and his wife, of course) of a woman who was my mum's cousin on her father's side: at least I think that's who it was. The details probably aren't important. Suffice to say I was surrounded by almost a hundred people who are related to me in some way or another, many of whom knew who I was because I was with Mum. It was a splendid occasion: pie and pea supper and homegrown entertainment in a most convivial atmosphere.

There's literary gold in them there hills

I want to say these are simple folk, but that sounds patronising and I don't mean it to. These were some of the most welcoming people I've met in a long time. OK, so I could have done with some subtitles - I've got a Staffordshire twang, but wow! - but all in all it was a lovely evening.

Then on Sunday I had a nice lunch with my brother and his family, where my little niece confounded all dietary advice my insisting that jacket potato with chips was a perfectly fine choice.

As if that wasn't enough, I've been in touch with another of my mum's cousins, but this time from the other side of the family. She now lives in America and has had the sort of life that would make a fabulous film. She has recently discovered that her son has a half-brother, and there is a whole adventure unveiling itself there, too.

The names would need to be changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty), but there's enough material in everyone's family for a mini-series. Downton Abbey? You ain't got nothin' on my kin!

Karma yoga and unemployment

In the week that the papers have been full of stories about the million-plus 18-24-year-olds who are currently out of work, I have been riled by a story in the local paper that an 87-year-old is still working at our local B&Q. Yes, it's amazing that he's still going strong, and perhaps I should applaud his determination to keep working until he reaches his century.

 

But hang on a minute: if he were to step down, wouldn't that leave a vacancy for some youngster to take his or her place in employment? The article says that he was already past retirement age when B&Q took him on. Is that strictly fair? I'm all for taking a stand against discrimination of any sort, and I know that some employers look askance at anyone over 40. But still…

Put down your tools...

This man has had his turn. He says in the article that he loves retail and speaking to shoppers. Well, why not volunteer in the Oxfam shop? That would surely satisfy his need to keep busy and interact with the public, but would, potentially, decrease the unemployment statistics by one. And how many other such folk are still in work when they should be enjoying their retirement?

OK, so I have a vested interest here. Older son Sam is 22, in possession of a degree, but not in work, despite having applied for over a dozen jobs in the last fortnight. 

The school of karma yoga teaches the value of work for its own sake. There is an emphasis on selfless service and the idea that our nature is not only reflected in our actions and behaviour, but is also formed by them. So perhaps we should work not only for financial reward, but also for the greater spiritual benefits. Karma yoga teaches that we should perform all action without thought for oneself and warns against inaction. So I completely see why B&Q man wants to keep involved – but why not apply this ethos elsewhere and step aside from paid employment now? 

But before anyone points it out, I am also aware that my indignation at this state of affairs is at odds with that other yoga keystone: non-attachment.

Buying a new mobile phone

Been out into town this morning with hubby Clive to get him a new phone.

He’s a bit of a gadget boy, but having taken a realistic look at our finances and paring the features down to those he actually needed, rather than just fancied the idea of, he settled on a pay-as-you-go Orange phone. Since he only spends about a fiver a month on texts and calls, it really isn’t worth him signing an all singing, all dancing contract for the latest iPhone.
 

Even so, he couldn’t resist having a look at the range of smartphones on offer, and drooling, just a little, at the prospect of all the lovely apps and gizmos. While we were waiting for the helpful young lady to retrieve his chosen model from the depths of the stockroom, he managed to take his photo (twice) on the demonstration iPad on display. Honestly, sometimes it’s like having a toddler in tow!

Atlanta

So now he is sitting across the room from me playing with his new toy. Oh no, apparently he’s not playing, he’s exploring its myriad functions. Having run through the entire musical repertoire of ringtones, he is now pressing buttons and beeping away happily. He has just exclaimed: ‘Ooh, I can do video calls!’ Bless.

This is me

I reckon myself to be a writer, so why have I only just set up this blog? Actually, I did have a stab at it a couple of years ago, but didn't stick at it. When I revisited it, life had moved on and, to use the psychobabble, I'm now in a different place. So a new start is called for. By way of introduction, this is me…

Professionally, I edit and proofread the work of others, as well as writing myself - many articles published over the years and six books to my name. More to come, I trust! I'm also a hatha yoga teacher, working with the philosophy that anyone can practise yoga to improve his or her physical, mental and spiritual strength and flexibility.

This is me on the Fourth Plinth!

Personally, I am a part-time vegetarian and full-time control freak. I have a husband and two grown-up (or at least growing-up) sons, an ailing lizard and two fish tanks. I toil on an allotment, sing in a choir, walk and cycle (but not as much as I like to think I do) and go to Zumba classes. I love wordplay, intelligent comedy and loud music. I hate moths, UGG boots and belligerence.

I wasn’t sure how to finish this posting, so sought advice from my elder son Sam, a graduate in Creative Writing. He said that a sure sign of a writer’s desperation and lack of imagination is to conclude with: ‘Then they woke up – it had all been a dream.’ I won’t be doing that, then.