bless their cowardly heart
I've just received a comment on an old blog which indicates that my son and I are mean. The subject matter was around laughing about a rather wide woman who blocked the aisle at our local supermarket and yes, it probably was mean of me to say stuff but it seems strange to tell me I was wrong by 'name calling' my son and very wrong indeed to do so anonymously.I am who I am and I'm certainly not perfect in any way but I say what I say openly

A syndrome, no less!
you may remember last year that I told you my son had been diagnosed with a heart condition called long Q-T syndrome.Well, the news is that I have found out today that I have it too. It is a hereditary condition and we now have to find out whether it started with me or whether one of my parents has it. My main concern is for my children as the condition can cause sudden death, they will be tested but it takes a while for the results to come through.The hospital have given me a long list of drugs i should avoid (I've had quite a few lol) and advised against strenuous exercise (you've got to laugh, I've been a runner for years).At least now Jack has someone else in the

running?
Having once again managed to finish the great north run I am in a state of great stiffness but feeling pleased with myself.People often ask me how I achieve such commendable style and speed in my running (well, ok they don't but they could if they wanted to).It's all down to a lifetime of living life on the edge and never having a moment to spare. I don't actually run at all, what i do is fall continually and constantly manage to get a leg out in time to save me from complete collapse.But seriously, The run (and others like it) at a great social occasion and I always meet and chat with some great and inspirational characters from the teams running for a massive charity to

give a little whistle
Just the other day, whilst enjoying some very un-British sun, I got wolf whistled!The whistler then shouted that I had nice legs lol.Now, OK. this was all a joke, probably a dare but it made me feel good.No big deal to many of my friends because I'm sure they are frequently desired but (and this is how genuinely sad I am)I haven't been wolf whistled since 1996 (it was October on Headingley Lane in Leeds at about 16:30 for some reason I don't recall the day).I felt good for two reasons.1. in the pretend area of my brain someone noticed and liked what they saw2. By parading around in my shorts I brought a little fun into someones day.I thanked t