Ichabod's Day

As a child I frequently suffered with night terrors. Periods of waking through the night with inexplicable intense fear and dread which led me to scream out until pacified. My parents, after a while, subscribed to the "she'll grow out of it - just leave her to it" philosophy, leaving my older sister, with whom I shared a room, free reign to exacerbate the fear even further by telling me such things as the bogeyman lived in the airing cupboard in our bedroom! I can't blame all of it entirely on her, I will admit to an interest in, even a fascination (possibly macabre) for the supernatural from a very young age. I read innumerable ghost stories, loved Tom's Midnight Garden and would sit for hours in my Grandad's shed listening to the older children in the neighbourhood relating ghost stories.  During daylight hours these were all fascinating and would spur my imagination - which would return with a vengeance in the dark hours before the dawn and scare me to dea...

Just come back from a busy weekend down at the family "pile". Sorry - using rather grand words as have renewed interest in tracing the family tree - a task started by myself and my Dad a few years ago but that has stalled more recently. We decided to treat ourselves to a trip to London to the BBC Who Do You Think You Are exhibition. As usual, the journey down by train was uneventful with one or two amusing incidents. First announcer sounded as though he was using a loudhailer from outside the train - never did get to hear what he was actually saying! Second announcer I can only describe as "camp with menace" in fact I have never heard the word "pannini" uttered with such disdain!! Third announcement was interrupted by loud female voice "hope you enjoyed travelling with us" accompanied by much giggling and raucous laughter as she was (a) egged on by her mates and (b)swiftly cut off in her prime from the PA system. Someone obviously had a liquid...

Well, that's another year over. Another xmas and another new year's eve. Have decided not to make any resolutions this time round - let's be realistic they would be the same as always: be thinner, be healthier, be nicer; and somehow I never manage to achieve them. This year the festivities have been very quiet - just me and husband- so have had time reflect, relax and generally lounge about. I am often asked why I don't go out on new years eve - with the assumption that I am being bah humbug! So I have decided to share previous experiences which should go some way to illustrating why I now stay in!! 1988 - went to stay with a friend and her partner. They fell out and we ended up walking through the villages of lincolnshire in the snow trying to find where he'd gone. Didn't see in the new year - too busy trying to keep warm. 1989 - went out the night before on a blind date (as it happens this was to be my future husband!). While I was out I was burgled. Ne...

 I am not known for my cultured ways - in fact my plebian tendencies have been well documented (believing that there is "too much dancing" in Swan Lake and looking aghast at any food which does not have the look of either comfort or nursery food!). However, this weekend I found myself at the MEN arena (as high up as you can get without having a nosebleed!) listening to the Halle Orchestra and the Leeds Festival Chorus in a Classical Spectacular. What a treat. The programme, the acoustics and the space gave rise to a thoroughly great evening, rounded off with some magnificent pyrotechnic displays, gun salutes and cannon fire - which, by the way made us jump so much we could almost hang from the lighting rigs! All this was of course enhanced by good company and the fact that we treated ourselves to a taxi door to door (£50!!!!) well - it was snowy! All this reminded me of the last time I was at the MEN and I realised that I hadn't shared this experience with you - so befo...

A number of you have been asking where my diary has gone and whether the boy ever wrote back - apologies I have been rather tied up of late but I have dug out my diaries again for the next installment. Just a quick note to those of you coming into these as a new reader - these are diary extracts from a 17 year old A'level student. Names have been changed to preserve a semblance of anonymity - but you know who you are!!!! Tuesday December 11th 1979 Well I'm back again. The boy I wrote to hasn't written back yet (sob!) but there's still hope yet. Well. I have another exciting instalment of my life ready to tell. As usual I'll start off from the previous date. Tuesday I had a play reading for St Peter's Hill Players. They want me to play Emma in The Edge of Darkness but I decided I couldn't do it coz it required too much involvement and I wouldn't have been able to give my best so I said no. Thursday it was belinda's birthday and a whole group of ...

Monday December 3rd 1979 I've got loads to catch up on as I've been so busy with my spanish o'level and going out places etc....... The play finished ( that I was doing coffee for ) and then the party after. We had great fun and a good old knees up. Then we decided that midnight was too early to go home so after loads of suggestions me and SJ ended up at CB's house for coffee. We weren't allowed to make any noise as his parents were in bed but he put on a Monty Python LP and it was really hard trying hard not to laugh loud. Sunday we had a rehearsal for our group - it was absolutely rubbish, me and SJ were tired so we left early and had an argument on the way home mostly about boys. The next friday (23rd Nov) we had our 6th form disco. We raised £264 from 80p a ticket so you can imagine how packed it was. It was quite good really except that the police came about half way through to check on licensing etc which upset S coz she organised the disco and they took...

Through most of my life I have considered myself to be a rather private person. I overcame a level of shyness as a young teenager which still occasionally surfaces today in certain circumstances. I wonder why then that I have recently taken to exposing more and more of my life to the world? My diary extracts and recently my professional portfolio are all in arenas that invite public scrutiny and comment. A month or so ago my Dad gave me a suitcase that belonged to my Mum in which she had ferreted away momentoes and souvenirs that were important to her during her lifetime. I knew of its existance but was never allowed to look through the things - Mum always saying "you can look when I've gone". Inside were a treasure trove of letters, cards and a couple of dairies covering the year she met my Dad and the year they got engaged. I hadn't realised she had kept diairies, and it is this discovery that sent me to dig out my own (which I have begun to share here). On readin...